The inn served breakfast on the ground floor, the smell of fresh bread and something simmering drifting up the stairs before Dominic even reached the bottom step.

It was simple food—bread, soft cheese, something hot in a clay pot that turned out to be a decent enough stew—and Dominic was halfway through it when Theresa came downstairs. She’d changed into the same white garment from the night before, the only clothes she had, and she moved through the morning room with that same unhurried certainty. A few early risers glanced up from their plates. One man’s spoon hovered halfway to his mouth and stayed there. She sat across from Dominic without ceremony, folding her hands on the table.

Dominic caught the innkeeper’s eye and signaled for another plate.

"Sleep well?" he asked.

"Not bad," she said. "You?"

"Well enough."

Her meal arrived just then, set down quietly by the innkeeper’s wife, who lingered a half-second longer than necessary before blinking and hurrying off.

They ate in comfortable quiet for a moment. Outside the window, the city was already moving—carts creaking over cobblestones, a baker’s boy sprinting past with a covered basket, voices calling out morning trade.

Dominic set down his spoon and looked at their funds on the table. What the cores had brought in, minus two nights at the inn and two rooms, was still a reasonable amount. Not comfortable, but workable.

"So what are our plans for today?" she asked.

"First, we get you some new clothes," he said. "Then the guild."

Theresa glanced at the little stack of coins, then down at her worn garment, and back at the coins. Her face was the perfect picture of someone doing quick mental math.

"Do we have enough coin?" she asked.

"It’s manageable," he replied. "If things go well, we should be able to get some more today."

"Alright then," she said. 𝓯𝙧𝙚𝒆𝙬𝙚𝒃𝙣𝙤𝒗𝓮𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

***

They found a decent clothier two streets over, a narrow shop wedged between a cobbler and a bakery. Dominic waited outside, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed while the morning crowd drifted past. The baker next door pulled a tray from the oven; the smell of warm rye rolled into the street.

Theresa came out twenty minutes later in a deep burgundy tunic, dark fitted trousers, and sturdy boots, her gold accessories back in place, the white garment folded into a bag under her arm. She caught him looking and raised an eyebrow.

"Functional," she said.

"Looks like it."

The remaining coins felt very small now.

***

The Caldmore Adventurers Guild in the morning was a different place from the previous evening. Quieter, more functional. The card players and the noise were gone, replaced by people studying request boards and speaking in low, professional voices. The receptionist from the night before was not on duty. The young man at the desk recognized Dominic, checked something behind the counter with a careful expression, and told them the branch manager was expecting them.

He led them down a short corridor to a meeting room. It was modest in size but well furnished. A long table of dark polished wood sat at its center, two high-backed chairs facing each other across it, and a smaller chair at each end. A window overlooked the side street. On the wall behind the head chair hung a framed map of the Caldmore dungeon floors, the explored sections marked in careful ink down to the twentieth level. It was the kind of room that spoke of how seriously the guild took its business.

The receptionist offered tea, which Theresa accepted, and left them to wait.

Frank Castle arrived three minutes later.

He was exactly the kind of man you’d expect in that position—broad across the shoulders, grey at the temples, with a particular stillness in his step that expressed his authority and experience. He looked at Dominic first, then at Theresa with brief open curiosity, then back at Dominic as he sat down.

"Kane," he said. "I’m glad the report was wrong."

"So am I," Dominic said.

Frank set a folder on the table. Didn’t open it. "Please walk me through yesterday. Everything that happened."

Dominic walked him through it. Cleanly, sequentially. The run. The wraith. The floor. Reyes met his eyes and the decision that followed. His teammates left him to die. He kept his voice level the same way he’d always done it, and he watched Frank Castle’s face while he talked.

The branch manager’s expression didn’t change much. But something behind his eyes did. A slow, settling kind of anger that didn’t need to be announced.

When Dominic finished, Frank was quiet for a moment.

"I found it strange that they filed the report two hours after the run started," Frank said. "Before the standard missing time had even elapsed." He said it to the table more than to Dominic. Then he looked up.

Dominic met his eyes and said nothing.

Frank nodded once. "The report is being voided as of this morning. The team has been suspended from further activities for the next three months." A pause. "But that’s all I can do. I hope you understand."

"I do."

Frank looked at him steadily. "Do you want to tell me how you got out?"

"I’d rather not get into the specifics yet," Dominic said. "What I can tell you is I wasn’t alone on the way out."

Frank’s eyes moved to Theresa, who had been sitting with her tea throughout the entire conversation, paying close attention while appearing to do nothing at all.

"Your companion," Frank said.

"Yes. Which brings me to something I need to discuss with you."

Frank leaned back slightly. "Go on."

"She doesn’t have identification. No crest card, no adventurer registration. She’s from a region very far from here." Dominic kept his voice even. "What I can guarantee she does have is ability. Considerable ability."

Frank looked at her again. "So you’re a foreigner."

Theresa met his gaze without shifting. "Yes."

"Where from?"

"Somewhere that no longer exists in any form worth referencing," she said, with the calm of someone stating a weather observation. "So I’m afraid verification will not be possible."

Frank was quiet for a moment. Then he looked at Dominic. "You understand what you’re asking. Issuing any official card without documentation is irregular at best and a significant liability at worst."

"I understand. And I’ll bear full responsibility if anything goes wrong. Formally, in writing, whatever you need."

Frank tapped the closed folder once with two fingers. Weighing the request before him.

He looked at Theresa. "Can you fight?"

"Yes," she said.

"How well?"

She considered the question with what appeared to be genuine thoughtfulness. "Well enough."

Frank looked at her for a moment. Then the corner of his mouth moved. "I’ll need to see that before I put anything official behind it. A supervised dungeon raid. I’ll have one of the receptionists go with you as a witness and assessor."

"Agreed," Dominic said. He paused for exactly one beat. "One more thing."

Frank raised an eyebrow.

"We’ll take the raid without a team. Just the two of us."

The room went quiet. The young receptionist, who had come back in to refill the tea, stopped refilling the tea. The pot hovered mid-air, a thin stream of steam curling from the spout.

Frank looked at him. Then at Theresa.

Theresa was drinking her tea.

She had the expression of someone sitting in a garden on a pleasant afternoon who happened to also be in a guild meeting room. Unbothered by the specific way of someone for whom the subject under discussion presented no meaningful problem.

Frank looked back at Dominic.

"You’re F-rank," he said.

"Yes."

"And you want to take a supervised dungeon raid without a full team."

"Yes."

"With her as the only other teammate."

"Yes."

Frank Castle sat back in his chair and studied him for a long moment with the eyes of a man who had seen a great many things throughout his life and was now in the process of adding one more to the list.

Then he exhaled slowly through his nose.

"Fine," he said. "But if this goes wrong, it’s on you. All of it."

"Agreed," Dominic said.

Frank stood, which signaled the end of the meeting. "Alina will take you down in an hour. Be ready."

He left.

The young receptionist finished refilling the tea, pretending he hadn’t heard any of that, and quietly followed him out.

Dominic looked at Theresa.

She set down her cup.

"An hour," she said. She glanced at the tea in her hand, then back at him. "I suppose that’s enough time to finish this at least."