Morning came silently. No wind, no bird, only a barely perceptible humming that permeated everything—metal, skin, breath.
Alaric awoke in the golden-blue shimmer that had spread over the city. He recognized the sound by now: the deep pulsation that meant Lina was somewhere in the frequency. But this time it sounded different. Softer. More human.
He sat up. The air tasted electric, like just before a thunderstorm. Above the ruins, where chaos had reigned yesterday, a new web was growing—golden lines, interwoven with silver-blue threads. It looked like light that had begun to think.
Rhea stood a few meters away, arms wrapped around herself. "It's still growing."
"Yes."
"And you think that's good?"
He shrugged. "It feels... right."
"Right?" She shook her head. "Alaric, we don't know what it is. Whether it's still Lina or something that just feels like her."
