The night was thick with fog as Selene navigated the back alleys of Harrow City. Every shadow seemed to breathe, every distant footstep echoed like a warning. Calder followed close, scanning their surroundings with practiced vigilance.
"We need to find the Whisper," Selene said, voice low.
Calder raised an eyebrow. "The Whisper? You're serious?"
"The best source of inside intel we have. Nobody knows who they really are, but their information has saved me more times than I can count."
They stopped outside an abandoned record shop, its windows cracked and dusty. Selene knocked three times on the chipped wood door in a specific rhythm.
After a long pause, the door creaked open a crack.
A voice, muffled and wary, whispered, "You're late."
Selene slipped inside, the door closing behind her with a soft thud.
The room was cluttered with stacks of papers, old tech, and a single dim lamp casting long shadows. At a desk covered in maps and coded messages sat a figure shrouded in a hood.
"You came," the Whisper said, voice like wind through dry leaves.
Selene nodded. "I need everything you have on Harrow's current operations. Especially any signs of internal conflict."
The Whisper's eyes glinted. "You're not just running from Harrow anymore. You want to burn the whole tree down."
Selene smiled grimly. "If that's what it takes."
The Whisper pulled out a data chip. "This came from inside Harrow's mainframe yesterday. Someone's leaking secrets. They want you to see this."
Selene took the chip, fingers trembling. "Thank you."
As she turned to leave, a sudden noise made her freeze—a faint, almost imperceptible click behind her.
Calder was already moving, gun raised.
A shadow darted past the cracked window.
Selene's heart hammered. The game was escalating.