The next morning, under a light shower bathing the unknown city, eyes opened, spirits awakened.

  Darkness still clung to the early hours. Lampposts and neon signs glowed across the streets, cutting through the gray haze.

  Olivia, already awake, wasn’t the first to step outside. Unsurprisingly, four women slipped quietly from their lodgings, cloaked in a veil of stars that made them vanish from the citizens’ view.

  Their gazes lifted skyward, ready to begin their mission.

  Alisa and Noelle, acting independently from Keleanos’ group, moved carefully through the shadows and narrow alleys, straining to catch any snippet of conversation.

  The drizzle fell in fine threads, coating the bricks in a slick sheen. Every puddle reflected the neon glow where the alleys met the lifeless streets, making the area twice a bright, twice as empty. Alisa’s fingertips brushed against the cold wall, searching for stability, while Martha calmly found a stable footing, as distant footsteps echoed, soft but insistent.

  “The city's as shitty as always, huh?” A monotone voice, belonging to a grimy man with a beanie pulled low over his eyes, forced them to freeze.

  Pressing their backs to a rain-slick brick wall, they listened.

  “You're speaking as if you aren’t part of the problem.” The old man tried to shield a fire in a metallic barrel with a lid, protecting it from the rain.

  A dog howled somewhere in the alleys, snapping the two eavesdroppers’ attention. Alisa’s head turned sharply, her eyes instinctively scanning the darkness. Noelle clenched her fists. This only made the situation more nerve wracking.

  “Pops, you know how it is. We’ve got to eat somehow.” The younger man’s words carried a sharp edge.

  “Can’t you just get a job? Plenty of crimes out there—you could make a living solving them.” The old man rubbed his hands over the fire. “It sure is cold today…”

  With nothing more approaching, Alisa exhaled quietly, tension coiling in her chest. The dripping rain and the crackling fire offered no comfort.

  “I can’t do that, pops. I’m already on the list. If I show my face to the federal agency, I’m dead meat.” The younger man pressed himself against the wall. “I’ll be tortured, maybe worse.”

  The old man shot him a brief glance and sighed. In the distance, a siren wailed.

  They turned toward it, unease written across their faces.

  “I should go. Don’t want to bring trouble to your door. Here—have some of the food I bought today.” The man placed a plastic container on the wet pavement and walked off.

  Only the older man remained. Noelle’s stomach tightened, a chill running down her spine. The warmth she usually carried had vanished, replaced by the cold edge of survival.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  The cold nights, the furious voices, the quiet theft to survive—all of it reminded her of the streets she’d once walked with Kate, Alma, and Serena. Memories she thought were behind her stirred again, leaving a sting she hadn’t expected.

  “Son… I hope you don’t get into more trouble than you already carry.”

  The old man said nothing more. They slipped further into the shadows, careful not to draw attention.

  As they left, a shadow shifted near a corner, disappearing before they could see it clearly. Every step in that alley felt watched, heavy with the city’s silent scrutiny.

  Across the city, window grids glowed like tired eyes. Citizens, umbrellas over their heads, stared at the wet pavement. Zara and Martha moved cautiously through the streets.

  After hours of careful observation, the second group of maids uncovered crucial details inside an apartment complex.

  “Madam, would you please move aside?” A rough voice cut through the hall.

  A man in an ink-black uniform shoved a woman aside, indifferent to his own harshness.

  Lights flashed from red to dim at steady intervals, illuminating the building’s entrance. Uniformed men poured in, pushing aside civilians as they secured elevators and stairwells.

  “What is the meaning of this?!” The woman who had been shoved glared at the officer.

  “Do not make this harder than it needs to be. Please, do not hinder our investigation,” he said, his tone polite but false.

  Zara, walking confidently in the middle of the hall, crossed her arms. Her void veil rendered her nearly invisible, but she remained alert.

  “Investigation? Another crime again?” The woman sighed, unaffected. “Who is it this time? Room 507 last week.”

  Frowning, the officer looked down. “I am under no obligation to answer. Remain quiet, or you will be placed under suspicion of murder.”

  “What?! Again?!” The woman’s shock barely registered before officers handcuffed her and led her outside. Other guests followed in silence.

  Zara watched until the hall emptied, leaving her at its center. Her crimson hair clung to her wet cheeks as she tracked a group of officers carrying a body bag down the stairs. The squeak of boots and the rustle of plastic clashed with the soft curtain of rain outside.

  Everything—the arrests, the indifferent officers, the bagged body—screamed that corruption had seeped into the very enforcers meant to uphold the law. The scene reminded her of the late Lord of Noctelagia—authority drenched in immorality.

  She analyzed the scene with cold precision, connecting threads to past experiences.

  With measured steps, Zara rejoined Martha, who had observed a similar scene a few blocks away. Each movement demanded caution. One misstep could reveal them—and in this city, that could be fatal.

  They exchanged information and moved to the next district, repeating the process carefully.

  Street vendors lazily packing up after fulfilling their last order, men returning home drenched with little care for an umbrella, and officers making rounds in open areas were their main sources in this slow paced city.

  Around noon, Martha and Alisa switched groups to consolidate their findings.

  In a luxury hotel suite overlooking rain-slick streets, Olivia sat quietly in a chair.

  "Why aren't they here yet?" Her right leg nervously shook up and down as she groaned.

  Silently waiting, the maids kept their thoughts from spilling out.

  Not long after, the front door faintly opened, and Zara, followed closely by Alisa, entered the room, joining the present maids.

  Zara, Alisa, Alice, Helen, Helena, Claire, Angie, Kate, Serena, Alma, Laure, Marisa, and Rene all surrounded Olivia, their Master.

  At last, Olivia breathed a sigh of relief.

  The remaining maids protected Keleanos and Eden, who coordinated their intelligence.

  “Well, these are interesting pieces of information.” Olivia rose and moved to the large glass window, watching red lights streak across the streets below. She heaved a long sigh and folded her arms.

  “This city… it’s far too bleak for my taste.” Her gaze lifted to the perpetually clouded sky.

  “Martha.” Olivia glanced over her shoulder, issuing an order. “Return to Keleanos and Eden. Tell them this…”

  The reserved maid nodded, anticipating the message.

  “Ask them if we’ve accidentally stumbled upon a Devourer’s lair.”

  A long silence followed, the maids’ wide-eyed shock filling the room.