The city kept breathing like a crushed lung—shallow, ragged, angry that it still worked.
The table I'd half-melted during the forge session looked like modern art for people who hate chairs. Darkharness rested under my jacket like a cat that refused to admit it liked me; every time my pulse ticked, the weave answered with a faint, smug ripple.
[Guild Net: Partial — Text Only]
[Signal Strength: 13% → 9%]
[Transit Charges (Today): 1]
[Absolute Regeneration: Online (Throttled)]
Good enough to be stupid with a phone.
I thumbed open contacts that still had names instead of "ID—Unknown." The screen spider-webbed light through one crack, and ash kept finding its way into the charging port like it wanted to live there rent-free. Appropriate.
Jax first. If he was dead, he'd be loud about it.
Ethan → Jax
still breathing, caveman?
Jax:
Define breathing. My knee's gone. Shield's dust. Sword's halfway there. You?
Ethan:
