I, the slave boy, awaken with the most potent seed!!

Zafron walked through the streets of the Undercity, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and strategies.

The weight of his recent victory against Draco and the Butcher felt hollow compared to the looming challenge of acquiring Raxus's staff. He clenched his fists, frustration etching deep lines across his forehead.

"There has to be a way," he muttered under his breath. "Something we haven't considered yet."

[Oh, my dear lord, still hung up on your little moral quandary?] Calista's voice dripped with sarcasm in his mind. [Perhaps we should make a list of all the things you're not willing to do. It might be shorter than listing what you are willing to do.]

Zafron gritted his teeth, Calista's words stoking the fire of his irritation. "Not now, Calista," he hissed.

[Oh, but now is the perfect time,] she continued, undeterred. [After all, we have nothing but time as we meander aimlessly through these charming streets. Shall we brainstorm? How about asking politely? Or perhaps a strongly worded letter?]

As Calista's taunting continued, Zafron's frustration mounted. He was so lost in thought that he barely registered the voices around him until a burly man clapped him on the shoulder, nearly knocking him off balance.

"There he is! The Slimy that took down Draco!" the man bellowed, his breath reeking of cheap alcohol or something close to that. "Never thought I'd see the day! You're alright in my book, kid!"

Zafron managed a weak smile and a nod, trying to extricate himself from the man's grip. As he did, he caught snippets of conversation from the crowd around him.

"Did you see how he moved? Like water, I tell ya!"

"Nah, more like slime. Fitting, ain't it?"

"I lost fifty units on that match. Damn slippery bastard!"

"You kidding? I made a fortune! Knew the underdog would pull through!"

The voices swirled around Zafron, but he paid them little mind. His thoughts were fixed on the task at hand, on the seemingly insurmountable obstacle of acquiring Raxus's staff without compromising his principles.

[My, my, quite the celebrity, aren't we?] Calista chimed in. [Though I must say, your adoring public seems rather... divided in their opinions. Perhaps we should consider a career change? Professional gambler, maybe?]

Zafron ignored her, pushing through the crowd with single-minded determination. He barely noticed the glares from those who had bet against him or the admiring looks from those who saw him as their new champion. His mind was racing, considering and discarding plans as quickly as they formed.

As he approached the Rusty Nail, Zafron took a deep breath, steeling himself for the inevitable confrontation with the twins. He pushed open the door, the familiar creak of hinges announcing his arrival.

Shadow and Whisper were lounging in the common area, their heads close together as they giggled over some shared secret. At the sound of the door, they looked up in unison, their eyes glinting with mischief.

"Well, well," Shadow purred, her lips curving into a sly smile. "Look who's finally decided to grace us with his presence."

Whisper leaned forward, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Tell us, champion, where have you been? Off celebrating your victory with Sakura again? Wasn't last night's... festivities enough for you?"

Zafron felt a flush creep up his neck, but he kept his face carefully neutral. "Just went for a stroll," he said, his tone deliberately casual. "Needed to clear my head after all the excitement."

The twins exchanged a look, their smiles widening in a way that made Zafron distinctly uncomfortable.

"A stroll, he says," Shadow repeated, her tone dripping with disbelief.

"How... quaint," Whisper added, her eyes roving over Zafron as if searching for evidence to contradict his story.

[Oh, stellar performance, my lord,] Calista chimed in, her mental voice thick with sarcasm. [They'll never see through that masterful deception. Perhaps next time we should try 'the dog ate my homework' approach?]

Ignoring both the twins and Calista, Zafron made his way further into the house. His ears strained for any sound from the kitchen or bathroom, Matilda's usual haunts. The silence that greeted him was unsettling.

With a growing sense of unease, Zafron checked Matilda's room, finding it empty. He returned to the common area, trying to keep the worry from his voice as he asked, "Where's Matilda?"

The twins shared another of their infuriating looks before Shadow answered, her tone casual but her eyes sharp. "Oh, our little Matilda received quite the surprise this morning. A summons from the Governor himself."

"Left in quite a hurry, she did," Whisper added, her smile growing wider. "It's remarkable how well she's getting along with him, don't you think?"

Zafron felt his stomach clench, but he forced his face into a mask of annoyance. "The Governor again?" he grumbled, hoping his act was convincing. "I don't like her spending so much time with him."

"Oh, don't be such a spoilsport," Shadow chided, wagging a finger at him. "You should be focusing on more important matters."

"Indeed," Whisper agreed, leaning forward with an eager glint in her eye. "Like the upcoming matches, for instance."

Zafron blinked, momentarily thrown off guard. "Matches? What matches?"

The twins' grins grew predatory. "Oh, you didn't think your little victory would go unnoticed, did you?" Shadow asked, her tone sweetly condescending.

"Quite the contrary," Whisper continued. "It seems every fighter worth their salt wants a piece of the famous 'Slimy' now."

More fights were the last thing he needed right now, not with their escape plan hanging in the balance. But he couldn't let the twins see his true thoughts. "I'll... think about it," he said noncommittally.

As the twins launched into a detailed discussion of potential opponents and betting odds, Zafron's thoughts drifted.

Why had the Governor summoned Matilda so urgently? Had he discovered the cart already? The possibilities made his head spin.

[Well, isn't this a delightful turn of events,] Calista remarked dryly. [Nothing says 'subtle escape plan' quite like becoming the Undercity's most sought-after gladiator. Brilliant strategy, my lord.]

Tuning out both Calista and the twins' increasingly animated discussion, Zafron made his way to the kitchen to get something for himself to eat as Matilda wasn't around to serve him.

He rummaged through the cupboards, cobbling together a meager meal. As he sat down to eat, the twins' voices drifted in from the other room.

"No, no, the match against Scorpion won't bring in enough units," Shadow was saying, her tone dismissive.

"Agreed," Whisper replied. "But what about the Twins of Terror? Now that could draw a crowd."

Their voices grated on Zafron's nerves, their casual discussion of his potential fights, as if he were nothing more than a prized animal to be pitted against increasingly dangerous opponents. He pushed his food around his plate, his appetite gone.

[You know, my lord,] Calista mused, [for two individuals so obsessed with appearances, the twins seem remarkably blind to your obvious discomfort. Or perhaps they simply don't care. How... charming.]

Just as Zafron was considering retreating to his room to escape the twins' incessant chatter, the sound of the front door opening cut through the air. The conversation in the other room died abruptly, replaced by the soft sound of footsteps.

Zafron's head snapped up, his body tensing. He knew those footsteps.

Matilda entered the common area, her face a carefully composed mask. The twins pounced immediately, their voices overlapping in their eagerness.

"Matilda, darling!" Shadow cooed. "How was your little tete-a-tete with the Governor?"

"Did he find you as... charming as we said you'd be?" Whisper added, her tone suggestive.

Zafron remained silent, his eyes fixed on Matilda's face. He searched her expression for any hint, any clue as to what had transpired. Had she secured the cart? Or was this summons about something else entirely?

Matilda's eyes met his for a brief moment, and in that instant, Zafron saw a flicker of... something. Excitement? Fear? He couldn't be sure.