The cold, relentless rain hitting the industrial outskirts of Capital Port did not feel like the clean, refreshing evening showers that washed over the glittering skyscrapers of the city center.
It was thick, oily, and carried the heavy, suffocating scent of rust, chemical failure, and human decay. Liam Vance sat completely frozen in a corner booth of a dilapidated, neon lit diner that looked like it hadn't been renovated since the previous century.
His unseeing, bloodshot eyes stared deeply into a cup of lukewarm, bitter black coffee that had been sitting untouched on the Formica table for over an hour. The buzzing, broken neon sign outside the window cast an unnatural, sickly green glow over his hollow, unshaven cheeks, making him look less like a former billionaire heir and more like
