Run: 2026-05-27-01KSMEK074RJQ4YNJYKNTZ1AM1

The flickering neon sign caught her eye as she stood on the bustling London sidewalk, a sense of nostalgia already flooding her. The Green neon 'The' and black 'Raven's Nest' looked the same as the night eight years before, when she had last stepped foot in Silas' bar. Back when the world seemed bigger, younger, and her heart felt whole. Aurora, one of her earliest aliases Laila came to mind, took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and tugged open the heavy wooden door. She scanned the dim interior, waiting for her eyes to adjust. The smell of stale cigarette smoke and cheap ale clung to the red-upholstered booths along the walls. It smelled no different than she remembered. The scars of time refused to diminish this place. She had forgotten that about bars. The way they stayed stuck in time, waiting to catch ghosts in the smoke they breathed out. An old man at the bar smiled at her then, and she smiled back. "I'm sorry, there's only bar seats," he said softly. She had forgotten his voice, too. No, that wasn't all. She had forgotten so many things, like the dim orange light that always lingered and the excited rush of finding her best friend. "But you can sit with me!" Rory forced another thin smile as Silas - no, she couldn't call him "Silverton" in the future, Silas, she told herself- led her over to the booth in the corner. It was lit by a single overhead light that was disturbingly dim, but then, the room itself was dark as hell. But as she slid in, it felt like she'd returned home after a lifetime. "I was hoping to find you here," he said as he settled across from her. She had forgotten about his persistent eyes-spotting grey flecked through his blond hair, kind intelligent eyes that challenged her to hold back. "I didn't think I'd ever come back," Rory confessed, looking down in her trembling hands. "I knew you would." "Why?" The question was barely a whisper, more of an inward thought than something she'd said aloud. He hesitated. "You did leave," he said. "But a friend is forever, and you can never deny me. Even now." Rory didn't know what to say, so she kept silent. "I want to help," Silas continued. "I never stopped thinking about you, Aurora. And I believe I know who might've attacked you." She looked up at him then, startled. "Who?" He leaned in closer, his voice almost inaudible. "The Kraznios Syndicate. They're known for assassination attempts on high-profile targets, including politicians and celebrities." Rory felt a chill run down her spine. The Kraznios Syndicate. She had heard whispers about them, rumors of their ruthless tactics and global reach. But what would they want with her? Silas must have read her expression, for he added, "I know it sounds far-fetched, but trust me on this. I have sources that suggest they've been watching you for some time now." Rory shook her head in disbelief. "But why? I'm just a small-time thief, not exactly a high-value target." Silas leaned back, his hazel eyes twinkling. "Precisely, my dear. And that's what has made you so effective. You operate under the radar, slipping in and out of places without leaving a trace. It's admirable, really." Rory felt a flash of resentment at his tone. Admirable? Is that supposed to make her feel better? He raised a finger, "Yes, admire it, but understand I came to admire more than your craftsmanship... I came to admire the person you are. Maybe people snicker when I say it, but I don't give a shit. I came back here, just to see if I'd see you, and that's what's made me so effective." She squared her shoulders. Not exactly a good look, Rory. "Admirable? Is that what you'd call it?" Rory said. "Fanatic, Silas. Obsessive. I can't help but feel that the more you defend me, the more you damning yourself. And for what? You left me. You destroyed everything, and I had to pick up the pieces." Silas shifted as if he was trying to decide what to say. "I'm sorry. I should never have pushed you away. I didn't mean to hurt you." But Rory was already standing, backing toward the door. She couldn't stay here, not with him, not now. The ghost of the past was too much to bear. "Rory, wait!" Silas called out, but she was already gone, running out into the smoke-filled bar and losing herself in the crowd.