Location: Unknown
The wind was still.
Shattered stone and scorched soil littered the battlefield—what remained of the skirmish between Crow's elite and the ragtag group of defiant Hope members.
Bodies lay strewn like fallen statues.
Vernon Slade, the iron mountain, lay collapsed on one knee steam rising off his back from the burns.
Elaine, her cold stare dimmed, was crumpled against a broken pillar, unconscious.
Miguel, face smeared with dried blood and a grin still half-etched on his lips, muttered nonsense in his sleep.
Vera, twitching, murmured dark things beneath her breath even as she lay still.
And Harry Two, Crow's imitation soldier lay motionless, a trickle of blood leaking from his nose.
Footsteps echoed across the charred floor.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
