Cain's boots sank into the damp grit of City Z's lower district, where the stench of rust and mildew clung to the walls like a second skin. The alleys here were narrower, darker, carved like wounds through the city's bones. He moved without sound, yet his presence filled the space, an unspoken warning to any who lingered.
Behind him, Susan's breathing was steady, deliberate, each inhale controlled as though she feared the city itself might notice her. Steve followed last, the soft clatter of his case a discordant note against the hush. Even Hunter, silent as he was, seemed to carry weight in the gloom.
Cain raised a hand and the group froze. Ahead, a light swayed, faint and uneven, as though fighting against the night. It wasn't torchlight. Too pale, too cold.
"A probe," Steve whispered, crouching low, his eyes narrowing behind his lenses. "Not theirs. The city's. Grid's shifting its eyes down here."
