Adam stopped before a run-down storefront bearing the faded sign: Havic’s Rentals.

  There’s nothing special about it…

  Which might be exactly why it’s what I’m looking for.

  His gaze traced the mismatched patches of blackened and unstained gray wood along the facade. The newer boards stood out clearly.

  A fight happened here.

  Covered up to look like fire damage.

  Adam lifted his head and glanced both ways before pushing the door open. A loud creak rang out, but it was swallowed by the noise of hawkers and foot traffic outside.

  The interior was small—barely thirty feet across—split in half by a wooden counter. Racks lined the first section, crowded with fishing rods, hooks, and nets. The other half was cluttered with deflated inflatable boats, mismatched paddles, and makeshift life vests.

  Adam lingered at the entrance, slowly surveying the desolate space.

  A jingle sounded.

  A door behind the counter creaked open, and a short man with a thick goatee stepped into view. He wore several dull sweaters layered over leather pants.

  “Welcome,” the man said. “How can I help you?”

  “Are you Havic?” Adam asked.

  “You can call me that.” Havic folded his arms. “So—what do you need?”

  Adam closed the door behind him. His boots creaked softly against the oak floor as he approached the counter, eyes flicking over the merchandise.

  Havic yawned and dropped onto a nearby stool. “Pick whatever you like. Just don’t steal anything.”

  “Sure.”

  “We’ve had trouble with thieves lately,” Havic added. “So the bait isn’t on display. You here for fishing supplies?”

  “It depends.”

  Adam stopped and met Havic’s gaze.

  Havic frowned. “Depends on what?”

  “The condition of the items.”

  The corners of Havic’s lips twitched. His brows relaxed.

  “…Are you asking if the conditions are perfect?”

  A faint smile touched Adam’s lips as he leaned against the counter. “Yes. Because this is a contract I’ve longed for.”

  Havic rose and lifted the removable counter panel. His tone shifted—now polite and measured. “Welcome. Please follow me. I’ll guide you to the order house.”

  The route was unremarkable. Just a red wooden door tucked behind the counter.

  That’s it?

  Aside from the spoken code, there appeared to be no safeguards at all. Adam couldn’t help but wonder what kind of people frequented a place this poorly concealed.

  “I heard a fight broke out around here,” Adam said as they approached the door. “What happened?”

  Havic glanced at him, then looked away. “Nothing important. Just troublemakers.”

  “I see.” Adam smirked faintly. “You might want to be careful. Big problems tend to grow from small rumors.”

  “Appreciate the concern,” Havic replied flatly. “But we’ll be fine.”

  Confident, Adam noted. They really don’t think they’ll be found out.

  They stopped before the door.

  Up close, it looked no different, no markings, no symbols, nothing hidden. If this truly led to the order house, then secrecy clearly wasn’t their priority.

  “Please go in,” Havic said.

  “You’re not coming?” Adam asked, suspicion creeping in. What was the point of a guide if customers were sent off alone?

  “Someone needs to stay here for the next guest.” Havic opened the door, revealing pure darkness. “Please proceed.”

  Adam frowned at the void beyond the threshold. He couldn’t see a single shape inside.

  A teleportation device?

  “I assure you there’s no danger,” Havic said with a chuckle, clearly reading Adam’s expression.

  Adam hesitated—then exhaled.

  The system hasn’t given an alert yet. So, it should be safe… I think.

  “Fine,” he muttered. “I’m going in.”

  The moment he stepped inside, his vision warped.

  The, he disappeared.

  After sending the man off, Havic shut the door and returned to the counter. He tapped his chin.

  “First customer in weeks and he’s a coward.” He frowned. “That stinky brat hasn’t come back either. Did she die during that Scavengers mess?”

  He shrugged and opened a drawer, pulling out a half-empty rum bottle. He took several long gulps.

  “She was trouble,” he muttered. “But a good kid.”

  The front door creaked open again.

  Havic’s dull eyes lit up.

  “Welcome!” he called cheerfully. “Here for fishing bait—or looking to rent a boat?”

  Adam reappeared in a cramped room barely five feet across. A rusty oil lamp cast dim light over bare stone walls and a single steel door.

  A teleportation device, alright… but where did it send me?

  He approached the door.

  Hmm… I can hear people.

  The knob turned easily. The door swung open with a shrill screech.

  A vast underground cavern spread out before him.

  Illumination crystals of every shape glowed from the stone, embedded in pillars and sculptures. A winding stream cut through the cavern, dividing it into multiple levels. Masked and unmasked figures moved everywhere, entering rooms, vanishing into tunnels, emerging from shadowed paths.

  This place is massive… Is this their headquarters?

  Adam took it in for a moment before approaching a masked man exiting a nearby room.

  “Hey—this is my first time here, and I—”

  “Fuck off,” the man snarled. “Come any closer and I’ll kill you.”

  Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

  Red eyes burned through the mask before the man stalked away.

  Adam stared after him, then sighed. I should’ve asked for more details before coming.

  “Friendly advice,” a gruff voice said. “Masked folk here don’t want to be recognized. Best to keep your distance.”

  Adam turned to see another masked man—pot-bellied, relaxed, almost amused.

  “Thanks,” Adam replied. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “No need. I overheard your excuse of a conversation earlier.” The man laughed dryly, then gestured toward the branching paths. “Pick any cave. Information brokers are everywhere. They’ll answer whatever questions you have.”

  “Thank you,” Adam said.

  “I didn’t do anything.”

  With an amused grunt, the masked man turned away and disappeared into one of the many chambers branching off from the cavern. Despite the abundance of illumination crystals, it was unsettling how figures vanished into darkness the moment they stepped beyond the threshold of a chosen cave.

  “Adam, why waste time in this rotten place?” the demonic voice crooned. “Let’s leave. Find somewhere quiet and devour that essence. Don’t you want to grow stronger?”

  Adam moved.

  “Hey! You know I’m right. Ignoring me won’t change anything. Stay like this, and it won’t be long before someone else devours you.”

  He approached the nearest cave at an unhurried pace. A few figures spared him a glance, but no one initiated conversation. In a place where everyone hid behind mystery, his transformed face was unremarkable, almost mundane.

  The cave’s interior mirrored the main cavern. Darkness clung to every surface, held at bay only by scattered illumination crystals. Several doors lined the passage, evoking the sterile symmetry of a hotel corridor. Above each frame hung two crystals—one green, one red. Some doors shimmered faintly green; others pulsed with a dull red glow.

  Red means occupied, Adam reasoned.

  He paused, observing as someone slipped into a room marked by green light. The instant the door shut and locked, the green crystal dimmed, and the red one flared to life.

  I knew it.

  Adam advanced a few steps and entered an unoccupied room.

  Its interior was unlike anything he had encountered since entering the cavern. There was no dreamlike haze here—only an oppressive stillness. An opaque glass partition split the room evenly. On his side stood a single stool with a narrow backrest, stark and utilitarian.

  “Welcome. Please have a seat.”

  The voice drifted from the other side of the glass—smooth and mesmerizing. “Are you here to request a mission? Submit one? Or perhaps something else?”

  Adam studied the barrier. A vague, distorted silhouette moved beyond the opaque glass.

  “I’m here for information,” he said, sitting down while maintaining the frail posture of a middle-aged man nearing old age. “It’s my first time here. I’m unfamiliar with the procedures.”

  “Oh?” The figure chuckled softly. “Then allow me to welcome you properly. This is the central order house of Vohmir. Here, you may request or place missions. To place one, you must first present sufficient compensation before it can be listed. We also require a processing fee—which is not always monetary.”

  Adam nodded. “Anything else?”

  “There are two mission lists,” the woman continued. “The open list, available to anyone, and the restricted list, accessible only to those who meet specific criteria.”

  “Do I need to pay a fee to accept a mission?” Adam asked abruptly.

  “Yes,” she replied. “Unless you are a registered member of an order house.”

  Adam frowned. That sounds dangerous.

  “Aliases are permitted,” the woman added calmly, as though reading his thoughts.

  “Oh.” He inclined his head. “Please continue.”

  “We are also information brokers,” she said after a pause. “However, we trade information only for intel of comparable value. If you request knowledge, I will assess its worth before determining a suitable price.”

  She waited. “What would you like to know?”

  “Do you have any information on a demon named Korgrath?”

  Adam didn’t hesitate. His gaze lingered on the glass partition.

  If even the Council of Hollows has nothing on that bastard, then my chances of finding him—

  He shook the thought away.

  “Please give me five minutes.”

  “Take all the time you need,” Adam replied evenly.

  Five minutes was nothing compared to the years he had spent chasing fragments of Korgrath’s shadow. If this lead failed, he would simply begin again.

  “Thank you for your patience,” the voice returned precisely on time. “Our records contain no information on any demon by that name. Would you like to open a mission related to your inquiry?”

  Her tone remained unchanged—smooth, detached.

  Adam lowered his head and closed his eyes.

  So there’s no avoiding it. I’ll have to rely on that lunatic, Vicar, after all.

  “Would you like to open a mission related to your inquiry?” she repeated.

  “Yes,” Adam said, snapping out of his thoughts. He rubbed his face, venting a flicker of frustration. “What kind of compensation does that usually require?”

  “I’ll need some preliminary information before determining appropriate compensation.”

  “What do you need to know?”

  “First, the demon’s rank. Second, your desired timeline. Third, any preferences regarding delivery. Fourth, whether the mission should be listed publicly or restricted. Finally, are there any parties you wish to exclude?”

  Adam exhaled slowly. The questions only highlighted how little he truly knew.

  “I don’t know the demon’s rank. There’s no timeline—the sooner, the better. I have no delivery preference. The open list is fine. And I don’t care who takes the mission, so long as I get results.”

  The voice fell silent, as if recording every word.

  “Thank you for your cooperation,” she said at last. “Once the necessary information is compiled, you will be informed of the required compensation. Should the Hollows request additional payment beyond the standard fee, you will be notified.”

  A narrow section of the glass slid open. A bronze amulet floated toward him.

  “That is a Hollow Token,” the woman explained. “It allows you to locate any order house within Outworld. We will also use it to contact you when there is progress on your inquiry. Will that be all?”

  Adam caught the amulet. Several skulls were engraved along its sleek surface. He tossed it lightly in his palm, weighing it.

  Heavy—for something so small.

  He slipped it into his pocket and looked back toward the glass partition.

  “No. I also require information on someone named Vicar Reeves—along with Eight Gates and Mxyrath.”

  “I apologize, sir, but those requests require specificity.” The voice carried a rare hint of strain. “There are thousands of individuals named Vicar Reeves, from the first—who died millennia ago—to members of the current generation. As for Eight Gates and Mxyrath, much of the information concerning them is embargoed. You must clarify precisely what you seek.”

  “All right, then. I need information on Vicar Reeves associated with Eight Gates—”

  “I’m sorry, sir. That information is embargoed.”

  Adam’s brows creased. She hadn’t even allowed him to finish. “Why?”

  “I apologize, but I don’t have access to that knowledge. Only a Hollow Elder may retrieve it.”

  His teeth ground lightly together. “Then what exactly is a Hollow Elder, and how can I—”

  “I’m sorry, sir. That information is embargoed.”

  Adam exhaled heavily, his frown deepening.

  Just when I thought I might finally learn something about that sadistic bastard.

  Then why even mention the Hollow Elder if you knew I couldn’t ask about it?

  “Fine,” he said after a pause. “What can you tell me about Eight Gates that isn’t embargoed?”

  “Only superficial information commonly traded in the markets.” Her tone returned to its usual mesmerizing calm. “Eight Gates consists of eight gate masters who collectively lead the guild. Unlike most organizations, its members span numerous species and include those awakened through methods other than Omens or Blessings.

  “Although united under one banner, the gate masters themselves are not always aligned. There are recorded instances of massacres between their own factions. They represent the ultimate hegemony beyond the walls—and exert comparable control within them. Finally, there are currently only seven gate masters.”

  Adam’s brows lifted. “What happened to the eighth?”

  “He perished in the most recent war against Varidan Academy,” the voice replied. “I regret to inform you that further details regarding the incident are also embargoed. The most reliable means of obtaining such information would be to ascend to the upper echelon of Eight Gates, become a Varidan Elder… or a Hollow Elder.”

  Adam stared at the glass partition, disbelief tightening his expression. His gaze slowly drifted to the floor.

  That explains it.

  No wonder they warned us against joining Eight Gates. If a gate master fell, then countless others from Varidan must have died alongside him.

  He lifted his head once more. “What about Mxyrath? What information is available?”

  “Unfortunately, most records concerning Mxyrath are also embargoed.” The voice faltered again. “However, limited access may be granted should you upgrade your Hollow Token to the silver variant. Such an upgrade requires the completion of a feat deemed worthy by the Hollow Council.”

  His frown returned. “Can you be more specific?”

  “I apologize, sir. That is all I am permitted to disclose.” Her tone settled back into neutrality. “Will that be all?”

  Adam rose from his seat, feeling as though he had expended half his energy for nothing. If anything, he was leaving with more questions than answers.

  “Yes,” he said curtly. “What do I owe for the information on Eight Gates?”

  “As a bronze Hollow Token holder, you are entitled to basic intelligence of that nature at no cost.” There was a polite finality to her words. “I bid you farewell, sir.”

  Adam exited the room without sparing the glass partition a second glance. The door sealed behind him.

  The crystal above the door did not shift from red to green.

  Behind the opaque glass, the voice spoke again, as though addressing another unseen presence. “Sir, someone has come seeking information on Korgrath—just as you predicted.”

  A man’s voice replied calmly, “Enact Protocol Sixty-Nine. Depart for Eight Gates once you’ve concluded matters here. There’s no reason to remain in Vohmir.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And what else did he inquire about?”

  “Eight Gates. Mxyrath… and you, sir.”

  A quiet chuckle followed. “I wish you a safe return.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Adam emerged from the cave at an unhurried pace. His clear eyes drifted across the masked and unmasked Hollows scattered throughout the cavern. There were so many of them—and yet none had offered him the answers he sought.

  “Adam. Oh, Adam.” The demonic voice purred. “Ignoring me won’t change anything. Devour the essence. Let us grow powerful together. Nothing can stop us—not even that Vicar.”

  Adam cracked his knuckles, rolling his shoulders as his head tilted from side to side.

  I should return to Dratol, he decided.

  Several months had passed since the doppelg?nger replaced him. Who knew what that thing had done in his absence? And then there was X. What happened to her? He pondered.

  He stopped before the steel door he had emerged from earlier and pressed his hand against its surface. Familiar darkness swallowed his vision.

  So that’s how it works.

  Adam stepped forward and vanished into the black.