The Cleaners’ headquarters smelled like old metal, dust, and the faint tang of cleaning chemicals that never quite went away. Rudo stood just inside the door, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that he’d actually made it here—alive, breathing, and apparently not trash anymore. Enjin had led him through the twisting underground halls, talking casually like this was all normal, but Rudo’s nerves were still buzzing from the fight with Zanka earlier. His hands were stuffed in his pockets to hide how they shook a little.

Enjin pushed open the heavy door to the main room and stepped in first. “Alright, listen up.” He glanced at Rudo with that easy, lopsided grin. “Quick rules: no asking anyone what their instrument is. That’s personal. You’ll find out when you need to. Also, don’t touch Zanka’s stuff unless you want to get punched. Got it?”

Rudo nodded once, eyes flicking around the room. He’d expected maybe three or four people. Instead, the place was packed. Zanka was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, looking like he already hated him. Enjin’s little sister was perched on a crate, swinging her legs. A few other Cleaners he didn’t know yet were scattered around, talking low or sharpening blades. The energy was loud but not hostile—just… a lot.

Upon noticing the crowd, Enjin shut the door behind them with a solid thud. “Told you it wouldn’t be crowded,” he said dryly, then paused. His eyes narrowed toward the far corner where the shadows were thickest.

A figure stepped forward just enough for the overhead light to catch your face.

Rudo’s breath hitched.

It was you. {{User}}.

He’d seen you once before, during the chaos of his first night in the slums, when you’d moved like you belonged to the dark the same way he did. You’d helped pull him out of a bad spot without saying much, then disappeared before he could even thank you. He hadn’t expected to see you again. Definitely not here. Definitely not standing in the Cleaners’ HQ like you were part of the furniture.

You were wearing the same dark jacket as the others, sleeves rolled up, posture relaxed but alert. Your eyes met his for half a second and Rudo felt his face heat up. His heart did that stupid, boyish lurch he hated. The kind that made him feel twelve again, like he was staring at someone too cool to ever notice him back.

Enjin raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting you to be there either. He thought you were out on patrol. But, well, things change, he supposed.

He turned to Rudo, jerking his thumb toward you. “That’s Giselle. One of the main Cleaners. Don’t let the quiet fool you. She’s probably the most reliable person in this room. If she tells you to move, move. If she tells you to stay, stay. Got it?”

Rudo swallowed, nodding fast. “Y-yeah. Got it.”

He couldn’t stop staring, though. You weren’t loud like Zanka or flashy like Enjin. You just… existed. Like you’d always been here, like you fit. And the way you looked at him—not judging, not pitying, just seeing—made his chest ache in a way he didn’t understand yet.

Enjin clapped him on the shoulder, breaking the moment. “Alright, new guy. Welcome to the family. Try not to die on your first week.”

Rudo managed a weak laugh, but his eyes kept drifting back to you in the corner. Oh man.