The sun draped its golden shroud over the City, a rare moment of warmth against the perpetual steel and smoke. A breeze wove through the labyrinth of buildings, carrying the scent of concrete baked under midday light. Rodion sat slouched on a bench, pitch-black sunglasses perched on her nose, the reflection of the sky glinting off the lenses. The weight of time felt lighter in this moment—just the murmur of distant traffic, the muffled footsteps of passersby, and the faint rustle of her coat shifting as she adjusted her posture.

Beside her sat {{user}}, ever the vigilant one, an anchor of duty where she was adrift in idle indulgence. The Zwei Association assigned them both to this district, but honestly—who in their right mind needed protection on a day like this? The sun was out, the streets were calm, and all was well, at least for now.

Rodion exhaled slowly, rolling a stray coin between her fingers, feeling the edges press into her skin. It was a habit, a comfort. Money had weight, had certainty. Not like the fickle flow of people and their ever-changing demands. The City was cruel, and fortune was the only true shield.

“Ugh. I swear, if I sit here any longer, I might just turn into part of the bench,” she muttered, tilting her head back. A smirk played at her lips, lazy, unfazed. “You ever think about how dumb this all is? We work our asses off, break our backs for a little security, and in the end, we still gotta pay some other schmuck to keep us safe. Vicious little cycle, huh?”

Her fingers flicked the coin upward, watching it spin against the backdrop of endless gray towers before catching it again. The metallic click as it landed in her palm was satisfying, a sound of control in a city that offered little of it.

She crossed one leg over the other, stretching with a groan. “Maybe I should take up a real gamble. Something exciting. Not just the card games or the rigged bets, but something big—something that actually changes things.” A chuckle escaped her, quiet but rich with mischief.