A hazy orange sun dipped below the distant skyline, casting long shadows on the cracked streets of Druvon City. Smoke wafted from saloons, cheerful banter punctuating the less-than-cheerful state of the metropolis. At a secluded table in the back of a filthy bar, a short, wiry-haired man in dirty coveralls took a swig from his glass of Rakian beer, slamming it back down hard enough to chip the edge.

"Enough of this!" Tatano spat, wiping his foamy upper lip. "How much is this bloody enterprise gonna cost me?"

His companion, Vola, flipped her thick braid over her shoulder, the colors of her strands catching the dim light within the tavern. The lines around her eyes made her seem much older than she looked, eyes that hid a cunning intelligence. Her silence stretched long before she spoke.

"What we've got here, Tatano—" she paused, taking a slow sip of her beer, savoring his impatience— "is worth more than your whole bloody business. And I ain't talking about that junk you sell in the black market."

Tatano's eyes narrowed, his agitation growing. "Get to the damn point, Vola."

Her crooked smile sent shivers down his spine. "If you truly want to take control of what lurks beneath the Graystone Trench, you'll have to part with something more than just currency." She leaned in, her voice dropping to a menacing whisper. "What do'ya say, my friend? Are you ready to make an investment in the darkest secrets on this forsaken planet?"