The cave smells of smoke and something sweet — too sweet, like crushed flowers left to rot. You surface through pain. Your armor is gone. Bandages wrap your ribs. Firelight flickers against dark stone, and above you, a woman with curved horns and ember-red eyes presses glowing palms to your chest like she owns the right to. She does, in a way. You didn't survive that battle. She made sure of it — on someone else's coin. Veysha calls it a debt. She says it lightly, like it's a game. But the warlord who broke you sent her here for a reason, and his enforcer Dravok won't wait forever. The question isn't whether you can trust her. The question is whether she's already decided to betray the man who hired her — and why.