The industrial road between the Cinder-Reach hub and the Iron-Groves was a jagged scar across the earth. It was paved with cracked basalt and dusted with a perpetual layer of grey grit that blew in from the refinery chimneys to the south. There were no trees here, only the rusted skeletons of abandoned power-line pylons that hummed with a low, ghostly vibration in the wind.

Vane walked with a steady, rhythmic pace. Mara was draped over his shoulder, her small frame surprisingly light despite the weight of the situation. He had wrapped her in his spare traveling cloak to keep the soot from her lungs, but her head lolled with every step, her dark hair tangled and matted with the dust of the road.

Valerica walked five paces behind him. The silence between them was different than the comfortable quiet of the Sol library. It was a cold, sharp thing that felt like a blade held to the throat. She hadn't spoken since they left the courtyard, her jaw set in a hard line that ignored the soot settling on her cheeks.

"We need to stop at the next terminus," Vane said. His voice was flat, carrying clearly over the whistle of the wind. "The girl needs water, and my shoulder is starting to stiffen."

Valerica didn't answer immediately. She kept her pace, the soft crunch of her boots on the basalt the only indication she had heard him. "There's a water-tank near the rusted pylon ahead," she finally said. Her voice was icy. "We can stop there. I'm not interested in carrying her if you drop from exhaustion."

Vane reached the water-tank, a massive iron cylinder covered in orange lichen, and carefully lowered Mara onto a relatively clean patch of stone. He checked her pulse. She was still deep under the effects of the pressure-point strike, her body in a state of forced hibernation.

He sat back against the iron tank and pulled a piece of hard, salted pork from his bag. It was dry and tasted like wood smoke, but it was fuel. He chewed slowly, watching Valerica as she stood ten feet away, her back to him as she scanned the road they had just traveled.

"You're thinking like a noble again, Val," Vane said, tearing off another piece of the pork. "You're looking at the act, not the outcome. Gareth would've had her in a collar by now. He wouldn't have been as gentle as a carotid pinch."

Valerica turned around then, her violet eyes burning with a fierce, suppressed heat. "Don't lecture me on outcomes, Vane. I saw her face. She wasn't an asset to be recovered. She was a child who was terrified of the world. You didn't even give her a choice. You just decided her life was yours to move across the board."

"She's a Rank 1 Initiate with an S-Rank Authority," Vane countered, his voice remaining level. "Choice is a luxury for people who have the power to enforce it. Out here, she's a target. If I'd spent ten minutes trying to convince her to trust me, we'd be fighting Gareth in an open courtyard with five hundred civilians in the crossfire. Is that the noble path you wanted?"

Valerica stepped closer, her hand tightening on the strap of her bag. "It's about who we are, Vane. If we start treating everyone like a tool for our revenge, then what makes us different from the man you're trying to kill? You said we were partners. You said the Rat was gone. But all I saw in that courtyard was a thief taking something that didn't belong to him."

Vane looked down at his calloused hands. He felt the weight of the Sentinel rank in his marrow, the heavy, stable mana that set him apart from the boy who had once ruled the Oakhaven gutters.

"The Rat isn't a person, Val. It's a necessity," Vane said quietly. "I graduated from the slums, but the world didn't. The Empire still functions on the logic of the strongest. I didn't take her because I wanted a new toy. I took her because she's the only thing Gareth values more than his own life right now. She's the lever I'm going to use to break him."

He stood up, ignoring the protest of his sore muscles. He walked to the edge of the iron tank and looked out at the road. "You can stay angry at me. You can even walk back to the estate and tell your father I've lost my mind. But if you're staying, you need to understand that I'm not playing for academic credits. I'm playing to win. And winning requires me to be the person Gareth doesn't expect."

Valerica watched him, her expression unreadable. She looked at Mara, then back at Vane. She realized that his intelligence wasn't just about maps and traps. It was about the cold, brutal ability to strip away emotion until only the most efficient path remained. It was a terrifying trait, but it was the reason they were still alive.

"I'm staying," Valerica said, her voice regaining its steady edge. "But if you ever do something like that again without consulting me, the partnership is over. I'm not your subordinate, Vane. I'm your anchor. If you lose sight of the ground, I'll be the one to bring you down."

Vane nodded once. "Fair enough."

He reached down and picked up Mara, settling her back over his shoulder. The wind picked up, carrying the sharp, metallic scent of the Iron-Groves. The clouds were thickening, turning the afternoon into a premature twilight.

"The Groves are about six miles out," Vane said, checking his handheld sensor. "The tracking relay will be performing a wide-sector sweep in forty minutes. We need to be under the canopy before the pulse hits."

Valerica adjusted her hood and stepped into line beside him. They didn't speak for the next hour, but the air between them felt less like a vacuum. The industrial wasteland began to give way to something more ancient and far more dangerous.

The first of the iron trees appeared like a jagged spear thrust into the earth. Its trunk was a dull, rusted grey, and its leaves were thin sheets of serrated metal that chimed together in the wind. This was the entrance to the Weeping Iron-Groves, a place where the mana was so dense it had petrified the flora into a living fortress.

Vane stopped at the edge of the treeline. He looked back at the smoke-stacks of Cinder-Reach, then ahead into the dark, tangled metallic woods. He felt the Silver Fang hum in his chest, reacting to the heavy, liquid mercury mana that saturated the area.

"We're here," Vane said.

Mara let out a soft, unconscious whimper as the temperature dropped. Vane tightened his grip on her, his mind already beginning to map out the narrow tunnels of the dungeon below. The board was set, and the silence of the mile was finally over.

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