The bar was dim, all shadows and smoke, the kind of place where people came to forget themselves. The air smelled of whiskey and old leather, mixed with the faint burn of tobacco that clung to the walls. Neon lights flickered over the long counter at the front, staining faces in red and blue as people drank, laughed, or lost themselves in silence.

Music thumped low, bass heavy, more a pulse than a song. Yet it was still early hours for an establishment like this to be completely bustling with energy. Aksh stepped in with measured strides, boots landing with that steady rhythm that made people turn to look without meaning to.