Ethan stretched as he sat up on the cot, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The remnants of his dream still lingered in his mind—the warmth of home, the sound of his mother’s voice. For a moment, he almost believed he was back where he belonged. But reality came crashing back in as soon as he took in the dimly lit bunker around him, the hum of the old generators filling the silence.
Felix was hunched over a cluttered workbench, tinkering with a small device that sparked every few seconds. His muttered curses made it clear that whatever he was working on wasn’t cooperating. Rhea moved efficiently through the space, checking medical supplies and occasionally glancing toward the group. In the far corner, Vance sat in silence, as he always did, his presence heavy despite the lack of words.
Jax leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching Ethan with an unreadable expression.
“You sleep like the dead,” Jax remarked, his voice edged with amusement.
Ethan groaned, stretching his sore muscles. “I feel like the dead.”
Mara sat on a nearby crate, absentmindedly sharpening a knife with slow, deliberate movements. “We don’t have time for you to be dead,” she said dryly.
Ethan exhaled, running a hand through his hair before turning to Jax. “I’ve been meaning to ask—are there other groups out there? Besides the Resistance?”
Jax smirked. “Curious, aren’t you?” He pushed off the wall and grabbed a bottle of water, taking a slow sip before continuing. “The Resistance is the biggest, but we’re not the only ones trying to survive. There’s a whole underground world out there, full of people who’d rather carve out their own piece of the chaos than take orders from Jarek or the Resistance.”
Felix perked up, setting down his sparking gadget. “Oh, now this is a fun conversation.”
Jax shot him a look before continuing. “You’ve got scavenger gangs who raid abandoned zones for anything valuable. Mercenaries who sell their services to the highest bidder, no loyalty except to their own survival. And then there’s the black market traders.”
Ethan’s eyebrows lifted. “Black market?”
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Felix grinned, leaning forward. “Oh, you’d love it. If you need something illegal, rare, or outright insane, the black market’s got it. Weapons, Veil tech, stolen Resistance gear—you name it, they sell it.”
Mara scoffed, flipping the knife in her hand. “Or they’ll rob you blind if you’re dumb enough to trust them.”
Ethan frowned, considering this new piece of information. “So, if someone wanted to disappear or get their hands on something powerful…”
Jax nodded. “That’s where they’d go. But don’t get any ideas. It’s not just a marketplace—it’s a battlefield. Some of those traders are worse than the creatures that come through the Veil.”
Felix leaned back, stretching his arms behind his head. “Speaking of, ever hear of a guy named Dorian Kane?”
Ethan shook his head.
Rhea, who had been silent until now, scoffed. “You don’t want to.”
Felix chuckled. “Oh, come on, don’t be like that. He’s a legend. The best fixer in the black market. He can get you anything—for a price.”
Jax sighed, shaking his head. “He’s also a liar, a cheat, and the reason half the Resistance’s weapons caches mysteriously disappear before we can get to them.”
Ethan let out a low whistle. “Sounds like someone we shouldn’t trust.”
Felix shrugged. “Depends. If you’ve got the right leverage, even the worst people can be useful. That’s how the world works now.”
Mara finished sharpening her knife and stood, stretching her arms. “Enough talk. We need to focus on what’s next.”
Ethan leaned back against the cot. “And what exactly is next?”
Jax smirked. “That depends. You up for a little fun?”
Ethan narrowed his eyes. “Define ‘fun.’”
Felix clapped his hands together, his grin widening. “Oh, you’re gonna love this.”
Jax’s smirk didn’t fade as he crossed his arms. “We’re making a supply run. And we might have to steal from some very dangerous people.”
Ethan groaned, rubbing his temples. “Why do I feel like this is going to be a terrible idea?”
Felix smirked. “Because it probably is.”
Ethan let out a slow breath, already regretting whatever he was about to get himself into. “Great. Just what I needed—another reason to get shot at.”