“Deal,” Kaelen whispered.
In the neon-drenched underbelly of Veridia City, there was a shop that didn't appear on any map. It existed in the wet gaps between alleys, behind a door that smelled of rust and regret. The sign above flickered: XXXPAWN . xxxpawn
“I need enough for a new cortex spike and a clean ID,” he said. “Deal,” Kaelen whispered
The inside of XXXPawn was a cathedral of broken things. Violins with snapped necks. Wedding rings fused into single, weeping knots. And in the center, behind a counter of cracked glass, sat the Pawnbroker. She had no face—just a smooth, porcelain oval where features should be. Her voice came from everywhere at once. weeping knots. And in the center