Cain moved through the alleys of City Z with measured steps. The sun had not yet risen. Shadows clung to the corners, stretching from broken shutters and leaning walls. The streets smelled of wet stone and rot. He didn't flinch. He didn't hurry. Every step was deliberate.
Hunter followed behind, crossbow ready. He paused at each intersection, scanning, listening. Nothing moved in the emptiness, but the city never stayed empty for long. Cain knew it. He always knew it.
Susan kept to the rooftops. She was a dark figure against the dim sky, watching, waiting. Cain could sense her presence even without turning. She moved quietly, as if the city itself parted to make way.
Ahead, the flicker of movement caught Cain's eye. Not fast, not deliberate—hesitant. A shadow moving with purpose but uncertain of its own steps. He noted it and didn't speak. He didn't need to. Hunter and Susan understood. They had moved in sync before. They would move in sync again.
