My chest pulls slightly at that thought. I shove it aside. I can only handle one problem at a time.
Find Varek. Then get answers. Then try not to punch him for making decisions that involve trading princes like currency.
Simple.
Slightly ahead, the corridor opens out, widening into one of the central passageways that lead back towards the front section—the bowling alley entrance on the outskirts and the more active parts of the settlement for training.
Voices carry more clearly here.
Movement increases.
I step into the flow of it, adjusting automatically, slipping between bodies and crates and people like I’ve done it a thousand times before.
Because I have.
Different place.
Same survival rules.
And then?—
“—I’m telling you, if it had teeth like that, it was not meant to be eaten.”
The voice cuts clean through the noise. It’s familiar, loud, impossible to miss, and distinctly Aussie.
I stop and turn slightly.
And there he is. Sonny.
He’s leaning against a wall like he owns it, talking absolute shit to a couple of very patient-looking Riftborn who are either entertained or deeply regretting their life choices.
I huff out a breath. “Of course,” I mutter. “Start with the loudest bastard in the place.”
And just like that, my search for Varek takes a slight detour.
“…and I’m just saying—” Sonny is mid-rant, one hand gesturing like he’s presenting a case to a very unimpressed jury. “—if it has more than four legs, I’m not eating it unless it’s deep-fried and I’m drunk enough not to care.”
The two Riftborn he’s cornered—one with scaled skin that shifts colour faintly under the cave light, the other taller and narrow-faced with elongated ears—exchange a look that reads somewhere between long-suffering andwhy did we stop walking.
“Then you would starve,” the taller one replies dryly.
“Rude,” Sonny says immediately, offended on principle.
I snort before I can stop myself, and his head snaps toward me.
Recognition hits fast. His eyes widen, and then his whole face splits into a grin. “Well, fuck me sideways—look who’s not dead.”
“Disappointing, I know,” I say, stepping closer.
The two Riftborn take the opportunity to escape, murmuring something that sounds vaguely like gratitude as they slip past me and back into the flow of the corridor. Sonny doesn’t even notice they’ve gone. He’s too busy looking me over like I’m a particularly interesting wreck.
“Mate,” he says, pushing off the wall, “you look like absolute shit.”
“Cheers. Exactly what I wanted to hear.”
He circles me once, exaggeratedly, hands on his hips like he’s doing a full inspection. “Yeah, nah,” he mutters. “You got absolutely wrecked.”
“Insightful.”
