The city curled in upon itself. One beat, the streets were tangled alleys heavy with smoke; the next, they flung wide like visions of wide boulevards lined with empty statues.
Every blink was a reformation. Every step betrayed them, leading them deeper into the maze that lived within the dragon's broken breath.
Kaito leaned against a wall that felt both cold like stone and warm like skin. It trembled once under his hand before solidifying again into icy glass. He jerked back fast, teeth hissing.
Nyra went first, her sword exposed now, its blade casting black fire that refused to settle. She turned on him when she caught his hesitation. Her eyes looked older here—brittle, tight.
"Is it forcing harder," she answered, her own voice a soft murmur. "Sounds like the air is trying to burrow in."
