Riven woke well past sunrise.
Light pushed through the thin curtain and stretched across the floor in a narrow band. He stayed where he was for a moment, sorting through the aches one by one. His shoulder still carried the bruise from the Wraith. His legs felt heavy from forcing Burst Step too many times in a single day. The pounding behind his eyes had eased into a steady headache he could tolerate.
Prism Shift sat in one of his five slots like a weight he hadn't adjusted to carrying.
It was quiet now, but impossible to ignore. Shadow Veil and Burst Step had always felt familiar, like habits shaped into tools. Prism Shift felt different. Dense. Sharp around the edges. Something valuable that could still injure its owner.
Riven sat up and looked toward the table.
The Wraith core rested where he had left it, pale light trapped beneath its smooth surface. In daylight it looked smaller than it had in the dungeon. Valuable things often did.
He washed, changed, and ate the last of the bread in his room before heading outside.
The lower district was already awake. Metal shutters rose. Street carts claimed corners. Someone argued loudly over the price of oil while three others watched as if it were entertainment.
Rumors had woken early too.
He caught them in pieces as he walked.
"...three men lost in the Corridor."
"Two."
"I heard five."
"Someone looted a chamber before the route teams got there."
"That part's true."
Riven kept moving.
Stories inflated themselves naturally. No effort required.
The black market district was busier than usual. The Glass Corridor had become the center of conversation, and conversation always turned into prices.
Movement skills were selling high.
Stamina skills were worse.
Riven stopped at one stall long enough to hear a number, then walked away before the seller finished explaining why daylight robbery was suddenly reasonable.
Daris sat in his usual café corner, half-turned in his chair as though he owned the space more than the tables did. A drink rested near one hand. He looked up when Riven entered and smiled, though there was more interest in it than amusement.
"Wow, you look terrible."
"Seems to be the norm for me these days."
"Terrible and rich is better than safe and poor, don't you agree?"
Riven assumed it was rhetoric. He pulled out the chair across from him and sat. He placed the Wraith core on the table.
Daris's hand stopped halfway to his drink.
He picked up the core, rolled it between his fingers, then let out a low whistle.
"So you really went in."
"You made it sound worthwhile."
"I told you supply starts there. I didn't tell you to come back carrying proof."
He set the core down more carefully than he'd picked it up.
"Fresh drop too. Nice color. Expensive morning."
Riven glanced around the café. "How bad is it?"
Daris leaned back. "Depends who you ask. Traders are thrilled. Prices jumped before breakfast. Recovery crews are making money. Medics are making more."
"And the route teams?"
"One of them buried a member last night, or will soon if they haven't already." Daris took a sip of his drink. "That tends to sour people."
Riven said nothing.
Daris watched him over the rim of the cup. "You were there."
"I was nearby."
"That answer usually means yes."
A server passed. Daris ordered another drink for himself and waved off the menu toward Riven without asking. He already knew Riven wouldn't waste money on café food.
"They're asking around," Daris said once the server left. "Nothing dramatic. Quiet questions. Who entered late. Who came out fast. Anyone seen near the chamber routes."
"Do they have anything useful?"
"Only anger so far."
"That fades."
"Sometimes." Daris tapped the core lightly. "Sometimes it sharpens."
Riven let the words sit.
"How much for this?"
"Today? Good money. Two days from now? Better money. New dungeons burn through energy reserves quickly."
"Wait two days."
Daris grinned. "There you are. Yesterday's Riven would've taken immediate cash and counted coins on the walk home."
"Yesterday's Riven didn't have people asking about him."
"Exactly."
The drinks arrived. Daris took his time stirring something into it that didn't need stirring.
"You've changed brackets," he said.
Riven looked at him. "What does that mean?"
"It means small mistakes cost more now. A scavenger gets ignored when he fails. A useful man gets noticed when he succeeds."
"You calling me useful?"
"I'm calling you expensive."
Riven almost smiled.
Daris noticed that and looked pleased with himself.
"The market likes routine," he continued. "Then someone breaks it. Those people either rise fast or disappear fast. There's rarely much in between."
"What would you do?"
Daris laughed once. "Me? I'd do what I always do. Stand close enough to profit, far enough to survive."
"I meant in my position."
That made Daris pause.
He studied Riven for a moment, then set the cup down.
"I'd stop chasing scraps," he said. "You've been living day to day because that was the lane you had. If I suddenly had an edge others didn't understand, I'd build around it before they learned to price it."
"With what money?"
"With this for a start." He tapped the core again. "Then with the next thing it helps you earn."
Riven looked out toward the street. People moved past the café windows in a constant flow, each carrying some urgency of their own.
Daris was right about one thing. Yesterday had changed the scale of his problems. He couldn't keep reacting to whatever appeared in front of him and expect that to last.
He stood.
Daris slipped the core into an inner pocket. "I'll move it when prices peak."
"And if someone asks about me?"
"I'll say many flattering things." Daris smiled. "None of them useful."
Riven turned toward the exit.
"Riven."
He paused.
Daris's tone lost some of its playfulness.
"People notice luck once. They notice results twice. Try not to give them a third time too soon."
Riven nodded once and stepped back into the street.
The city looked the same as it had yesterday.
He just knew better now.
Somewhere inside all that noise, people were already adjusting to what happened in the Glass Corridor.
He would have to move before they finished adjusting.