The explosion still roared in their ears as they stumbled into the open street. The alley behind them collapsed in a thunder of falling concrete and dust, flames licking upward like the jaws of some hellish beast. Min-joon coughed violently, ash smeared across his face, his small frame shaking as he clutched his side. Keller dragged him forward with brute strength, his own arm bleeding where shrapnel had torn through.
But Lin—Lin's eyes were elsewhere. They burned with the sight of the symbol left behind on the wall. A circle with a line slashed through. A message. Not just a warning. A claim.
"Lin!" Keller barked, yanking his attention back. "Street's open! Move before they close it!"
The night air outside was different. Open space should have felt freeing, but it was suffocating instead. The streets were wide, lined with gutted storefronts and half-toppled neon signs, but every window felt like a sniper's nest, every rooftop a shadow waiting to move.
