Garen drops into his chair hard enough that the pistons hiss in protest. Then a long, weighted exhale. His shoulders fall an inch. Whatever he’s been carrying about this just grew heavier, not lighter, and the weight is showing.

"Tell me, boy. How do you know about something that hasn’t even left my own head yet?"

"Before any answers... I want your guarantee that our partnership will be solid."

He looks at me. Doesn’t blink. His eyes saying he wants a guarantee as well.

"Then confirm what we’re talking about. What is Tide of Every Morning?"

"Easy..." I snap my fingers.

"It’s an integrated logistics and the formation of a contingent fleet, structured like a private armada, designed to standardize and sequence the WaterStrand harvest. You’d subsidize the Scale costs and the surface transfer overhead. The plan also covers a qualitative distribution model... WaterStrands routed to districts based on need, not bid."

The cigar drops out of his mouth.

It hits the floor and he doesn’t follow it down. He stays exactly where he is, jaw open by half a centimeter, eyes trying to assemble the math on how this is possible if he never told anyone any of it.

I keep going before he can recover.

"Your plan starts going on paper in about six months." I let the silence build. "And in two years, when you’re ready to launch—when everything is in place... the Deepwarden takes you off the board."

His hands slowly come together on the desk. The fingers of his right hand are pressing into the back of his left hard enough that I can see the white pressure points.

I let the sentence do what it has to do.

"Yes. You’re killed by Joseph. Right hand of Valerius. They take over the entire operation, but they run it inverted from your design. They concentrate the monopoly. They charge what they want. And the social inequality—the exact thing your model was supposed to solve—gets worse, not better."

"Inverted from what I planned..." Garen whispers, voice almost inaudible.

"Exactly."

"...that’s just like them."

He’s already known the shape of those people for a very long time. He just hadn’t put their hands on his throat yet.

He bends down. Picks up the cigar. Sets it carefully in the ashtray. The tremor in his hand is small, but the granite control he had ten minutes ago isn’t all the way back yet. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

"For me to fully trust you," he says, "I need to know how. How do you know all of this?"

"Let’s say it’s my Diver class ability."

I lie because the truth would make him reach for the mithril paperweight, and we’d both have a very bad afternoon.

"Like Valerius’s?" Garen mutters. "Fucking hell..."

The floor falls out from under me.

I keep my face exactly where it is. I don’t want to show him my surprise.

Valerius is a returnee? What does he mean?

In my last life, Valerius was classified as a Deep Diver because his rate of advancement was monstrous. Rumors said his class carried an experience multiplier. That his combat capacity was uncanny. That every plan he made unfolded like he’d already lived through the consequences.

I’d never let myself put the obvious word on it. Now Garen has.

He picks up the cigar. Lights it again. The hand trembles a fraction more on the second try.

"Quid pro quo," I say, an old phrase for exchange.

"What do you want to know?"

"Valerius. You said he knows the future?"

His discomfort shows. He runs a hand through the immaculate military cut, and for the first time it leaves a strand out of place.

"I’ll tell you what I observed. None of it is confirmed. He’s strangely sharp, in a way that puts him several steps ahead of you in any room you share with him. Like he’s seen the moves before you’ve made them."

"Reasonable for a Warden. He has access to information most people don’t."

"It’s not the same... Just—stay away from him, boy."

"Noted."

I let it die there. I’ll dig more later. Pushing now would tell Garen I’m hungrier than I want him to know.

He exhales smoke. Watches it drift toward the ceiling.

"What do you need from me right now? What’s the plan?"

"Protection in Thirstfall." I lace my fingers in front of my mouth. "Unlike you—who Dives at convenience and can leave whenever you want—I’m a low ranker without influence. I need to grow there. Live there."

"Fair. You’re already friends with my Veric, correct?"

The military bearing is climbing back into his shoulders. The shock is leaking out of him.

"Tell Veric this exact phrase. And under no circumstance do you say it to anyone else."

"Understood. What’s the phrase?"

"’Like the waters of Azurea, I’ll find a way—or I’ll make one.’ He’ll know what to do."

A family password.

I can already imagine Veric’s face when I drop that line on him.

Garen extends his hand. And for the first time since I walked through the door, the corner of his mouth moves up.

Not a real smile.

The blueprint of one.

I take it. Firm grip. The agreement settles into my arm like weight added to a pack.

"I save your life," I say. "And you make mine less complicated. That’s what I’m promising."

"I don’t know how you’ll do it. But after what you’ve shown me today, I trust you."

I turn to leave.

"Do you need anything? GNC? Sponsorship?"

I stop with my hand on the door handle. Don’t turn yet.

"I don’t want to make noise right now. The King of Azure Prime and the president of Masters Series Corp pampering a low rank Diver would attract attention I can’t afford. I’ll keep in touch."

"Of course."

The disappointment in his voice is small but real.

Garen is still an executive. He wanted to hook me with money and benefits—convert me into something he could call on later. Standard play. Nobody is one hundred percent benevolent.

That’s fine. I’m not either.

But if I think about it, there’s one thing Garen can do for me—and I’d be happy to trade a favor for it.

"You know what... for now, just look out for my family while I’m out. Can you do that?"

I look out the window and watch the rain start to come down over the horizon, right over District 4.

"Sure." Garen grabs a small sticky note and a pen. "Write the address here. Let’s keep it off the grid—it’s safer."

Old school, I think. I jot down my address.

"I want everything you’ve got on Alden Sands."

"You don’t think we’ve already looked? Your father vanished."

"Check the Deep Asylum, Sector 4."

I turn to leave. I just gave him the tip Rae shared with me before I died and came back.

"See you in Thirstfall."

I step through the door. The latch clicks behind me. The click is the only answer the room gives.