The corridor reeked of smoke and iron. Blackened walls glistened where blood had dried, the shapes of the fallen pressed into the stone like grim signatures. I slowed my pace, tracing a jagged scar on the wall where Kara had fallen.
Crackle… hiss…
I muttered under my breath, "Lesson learned: humanity is expensive." My fingers hovered over a scorched beam, half-expecting it to snap and remind me of how fragile everything was. Trust got you killed. Lesson underlined.
Clang… drip…
The few survivors crawled through the wreckage, some muttering prayers, some muttering threats. I noted their patterns the ones likely to betray, the ones likely to whine and smiled faintly. If the city demanded pawns, at least I knew who would move for me.
Rattle… pop…
A shattered console blinked weakly. Its light was half-dead, like the hope in the eyes of anyone still breathing. I stepped around it, careful not to touch anything that wasn't mine to manipulate. Every misplaced step, every twitch of shadow, was a signal. I cataloged it all.
Soft groan… hiss…
Kara's absence weighed heavier than the smoke. The echo of her last moments lingered here, in the scorch marks, in the silence between the groans of survivors. I reminded myself: emotions were liabilities. Sarcasm was cheaper. Smarter. Deadlier.
Click… clink…
I scanned the corridor again, eyes catching every twitch of movement, every slight scuff on the floor. Trust? Already overdrafted. Betrayal? Practically an art form. Every heartbeat I heard was either a threat or a tool.
Whisper… scrape…
The city was silent around me. No alarms, no cries just the faint echo of chaos fading. And me, standing in the middle of it, calculating, observing, surviving.
I tilted my head at the charred remains of the corridor. "Oh look," I said, voice low, dry, sardonic, "ambition bleeding everywhere. How quaint."