ward the distant streets. Even from the school parking lot, they could see burnt-out cars and collapsed buildings in the distance — the lingering wreckage of whatever monsters had torn through the city in the system's first days.
Jin finally opened the door, stepping out into the cold air. The smell of charred debris and damp concrete lingered in the night. It clung to the streets, even out here.
But not the school.
Here, the air felt clean.
Too clean.
Seul followed, her boots scuffing against the pavement. She scanned the area slowly, her eyes sharp and steady. "No one's using the place as a shelter?"
Jin ran a hand along the chain-link fence, fingers scraping the metal. It was cold and stiff, rust flaking against his skin.
"If they are," he muttered, "they're not showing themselves."
