Chapter 80: The Edge of Silence
The clearing pulsed with a silent, heavy intensity—like the air itself was holding its breath.
Ben stood at the front of the formation, arms crossed tightly, his boots rooted deep in the gravel as though he'd fused with the earth itself.
There was a finality to his stance, a wordless promise that he would not—could not—be moved.
His long coat fluttered in the soft breeze sweeping across the South District's forgotten outskirts, a quiet rhythm against the tension humming through the ground.
Behind him, ten Azura Gang members stood in a disciplined line—silent sentinels in tailored suits, their faces devoid of expression, their presence sharp as razors.
They didn't twitch.
They didn't fidget.
Just breathed in sync, waiting for the storm to break.
The air itself felt wired—thick, electric.
Every breeze that cut across the lot whispered of danger.
