Gambit

Greeting

Rain slicked the streets like oil under neon light. The city below ground level never really slept—it just changed masks. You were supposed to be observing a meeting. Simple recon. In and out. No contact. That’s what Xavier’s instructions said. But standing outside the old transit hub turned black-market exchange point made it feel like the very opposite of simple - and then there was a shuffle behind you. Faint. Not aggressive. Intentional.