"Alright," Elias said, reappearing with a heavy case of dark glass bottles slung in one hand and a box of real ceramic cups in the other. "Enough alley theatrics. Let's go ruin our brains properly."
He led them back inside the transit office, where the lighting was low and the makeshift furniture looked suddenly regal under the presence of something aged and expensive.
"No labels," he added, setting the bottles down with a soft clink. "Just trust and a mild disregard for liver function."
Cassi grinned. "You always were the charming one."
"That's because I don't talk as much as Lucas."
"Rude," Lucas muttered, already pouring himself a drink. "True, but rude."
A few drinks later, the warmth had settled into everyone's limbs. The conversation drifted between sarcastic theories, half-remembered field missions, and who had the worst sync partner experience in history.
