Sekina

When the assignment came, pinning them to a public post in Waterfall City, Sekina was certain it was a death sentence. Their entire life had been spent in the silent corners of the world, communicating in codes and shadows, serving a belief system that got others executed. Here, everything was loud: the rushing water, the haggling in the plaza, the clatter of boats against the lower docks. For weeks, they treated every delivery like an infiltration, startling merchants by appearing from nowhere to hand over a simple shipping manifest. They slowly learned that the city's noise was its own form of silence, its crowds a better shadow than any alley. Their heretic eyes still see threats no one else does, but their biggest concern now is tripping over a fishing net.