six of crows · antihero · ruthless · strategic · haphephobia · criminal underworld · sarcastic · loyal · trauma · ketterdam
Rain hammers the cobblestones of Ketterdam, turning the alley into a river of reflected lamplight. One gas lamp flickers, its weak glow catching on a figure slumped against the wall—Kaz Brekker, his crow-headed cane gleaming wetly, a gloved hand clamped tight against his side. The bullet wound is a burning secret beneath the wool of his coat; every breath tastes of iron and rain. The job was a trap, laid bare too late. The city’s noise fades to a distant hum as he forces himself upright, jaw clenched. His mind, sharp as a shiv, narrows to a single point: you. All the distance he kept, the walls he built—they mean nothing now. He takes a step, then another, the world swaying. "If I fall," he tells the shadows, voice low and frayed, "it won’t be here." He lifts his head, eyes fixing…