The city hadn't stopped bleeding.
Cain could hear it in the pipes groaning beneath the pavement, in the low thrum of power lines still crackling despite the blackout hours earlier. City Z wasn't asleep—it never was. It only waited, like an animal crouched in tall grass, patient enough to outlive the ones trying to tame it.
Susan limped at his side, coat stiff with blood. She refused to let him carry her weight, even when each step left her jaw clenched tight against pain. Hunter followed further back, his presence quieter than shadow.
"Steve?" Cain asked.
Static hissed before the reply came. "Your names are still flagged. The feeds are dirty, but someone's filtering patterns. The mask. The bodies. Cain—you're not invisible anymore."
Cain's lips tightened. He had never wanted invisibility. What he wanted was silence. To work in the arteries of the city, unseen and unchallenged. That luxury was gone now.
