After their meal, the warmth of good food still lingering in their bodies, Ethan and Mia stepped back into the street, weaving through the shifting currents of Valeron Cross. The district buzzed with quiet intensity, the kind of hum only places adjacent to Labyrinth zones had—low-grade tension mixed with the weariness of those who survived it.
Ethan checked his phone. "Agency's five blocks out," he muttered.
"Let's hope they don't make us fill out a hundred forms," Mia replied, tugging her hoodie closer. "I've had enough paperwork in the infirmary."
Ethan didn't respond, but the corner of his mouth lifted.
When they reached the building, a solid gray structure marked with the sigil of the Valeron Cross Settlement Oversight Division, they were greeted by tall reinforced glass doors that slid open with a hiss. Inside was a wide lobby fitted with crystal-lit panels, mana scanners embedded in the walls, and an oddly sterile scent of polished steel and mana-stabilizer fluid.
