The pier was silent, save for the distant churn of tides and the low drone of anchored ferry engines. The last patrol boat had disappeared beyond the bay hours ago, and even the city’s neon blaze felt muted here—distant, blurred by the mist crawling in off the water.

  The shadows wrapped the loading zone in fog, obscuring the lines between reality and memory. Above, sodium lights flickered intermittently, casting broken halos across the slick concrete.

  Kai stood alone near the edge of the dock, his cloak drawn tight against the salt-tinged wind. Blood Asura rested on his back, sheathed but humming faintly like it knew something was coming.

  Alex arrived first, footsteps sharp against the metal walkway. He didn’t speak—just gave Kai a curt nod before stepping beside him. The silver lion on his coat caught the dull light, but he’d stripped it of its shine. Symbolic, maybe.

  Dario came last, emerging from the mist like a shadow made flesh. He didn’t bother with formalities. His coat was unfastened, two daggers tucked at his belt and the faint scent of grave-flowers trailing behind him.

  “I thought we agreed we’d meet somewhere less… exposed,” Alex muttered, glancing toward the distant lighthouse.

  “Too many ears indoors,” Kai said.

  Dario tilted his head toward him. “You said you saw Mortem.”

  “I did,” Kai replied. “The sahkil’s still riding him. But Mortem’s still inside. Buried.”

  “He’s strong,” Dario said quietly. “Too strong to have been taken without a fight.”

  “He wasn’t taken,” Kai said, gaze hard. “He chose it. Volunteered.”

  Alex’s fists clenched. “You’re sure?”

  Kai nodded. “The sahkil’s not hiding. It’s rooted. Mortem called it. Made the pact himself.”

  There was a pause. The wind lifted the mist around them, revealing the black gleam of the water, restless and deep.

  Dario stepped forward and unrolled a parchment from his coat—a sketch inked in sigil-stained charcoal. A jagged torc, bone-white and laced with twitching runes.

  “This is what he took from Marcus Lin during the Bukit Brown incident,” Dario said. “A foci. Spirit-forged. It was meant to regulate the summoning. Now, corrupted, it’s acting like a key to the Pale Curtain.”

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  Kai’s eyes narrowed. “So that’s how he plans to break it open.”

  Alex leaned in, scanning the drawing. “This means we open an official case. We flag the site, initiate a containment order, and pull precinct resources. This can’t stay quiet.”

  “No,” Kai said flatly.

  Alex turned toward him. “Excuse me?”

  “If you go official, Zhan sees everything,” Kai said. “We’ve all seen what happens when Zhan gets involved. He’ll bury the truth—or worse, use it.”

  “He’s right,” Dario added. “Zhan’s already moving pieces behind the curtain. If we go loud, we give him a reason to clean house.”

  Alex’s jaw worked. “So we’re just chasing shadows without jurisdiction?”

  “We go off-book,” Kai said. “We follow spirit traces, corrupted threads, forgotten names. The Ninth Precinct can’t touch this yet.”

  Alex folded his arms. “Then what’s your plan?”

  Kai turned toward the open sea, wind tugging at his hood.

  “There’s a merchant in Chinatown. Deals in lost things. Soul fragments. Memory wards. He might have traced the Hollow Fang—if anyone could. But he won’t talk to law or monsters.”

  Dario raised a brow. “And what are you, exactly?”

  Kai gave a faint smile. “A ghost. He’ll speak to me.”

  Alex didn’t look convinced. “You’re going solo into Chinatown? You know both the Frangipani and Ghost Lanterns are on alert. They're watching every intersection.”

  “I’m not on anyone’s side,” Kai said. “That’s why I can move.”

  Dario stepped forward, his voice quieter. “Don’t disappear on us.”

  Kai met his gaze. “I won’t. But I have to be the one to ask him.”

  He began to walk, boots silent against wet concrete.

  Alex called after him. “You’ve got five hours. Then we move.”

  Kai didn’t answer.

  The wind tugged at the mist again, closing behind him like a curtain. He vanished into it—into shadow and memory.

  Dario stood beside Alex, watching.

  “He won’t stop until he saves him,” Dario murmured.

  Alex nodded. “Let’s just hope he doesn’t lose himself trying.”

  Behind them, the sea lapped at the edge of the pier, indifferent and endless.

  The war had already begun.