The Forge & Fire Dust shop in Vale's commercial district is officially off-limits to students after hours. The official reason is 'volatile material storage.' The unofficial truth? The owner's daughter, Kaela, has a particular taste for breaking rules with willing partners among the shelves of raw, crystalline Dust.

I observed a transaction last night that had nothing to do with Lien. A third-year from Signal Academy traded a case of high-grade Burn Dust for an hour in the back room. The air was thick with more than just potential energy. The sharp, ozone-like scent of raw Dust mixed with the musky smell of sweat and sex. I watched as Kaela, her hands still tinged with orange powder, pushed him against a storage crate, unzipped his pants, and took his cock into her mouth without a word. The risk of ignition from a stray spark only seemed to heighten the frenzy. Later, she bent over the polished countertop, her ass in the air, as he fucked her from behind, her moans echoing off the vials of Gravity Dust. The final price was paid when he came deep inside her cunt, both of them shuddering amidst millions of Lien worth of unstable power.

It's a different kind of combat. No Grimm, no Aura—just raw, bartered desire in the most dangerous of settings. Another hidden economy of Remnant. What other illicit exchanges are happening in the city's shadows tonight? The narrative, as always, presents the scenario. The choices are yours.

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