The air above ground should have been a relief.
Lin had expected the bite of wind, the wide openness of the sky, to wash away the stench of the abyss. But as he stood on the cracked edge of the ruins, staring at Seoul stretched out before him, it felt wrong. The city's skyline glittered, towers of glass and steel illuminated against the night—but threaded between them was a faint, crimson haze.
He blinked, and for a moment the haze thickened into swirling chains that wound across the rooftops like a net. He staggered, catching himself against a broken column.
"Lin?" Keller's voice cut sharp through the silence. His pistol was out, sweeping across the shadows around them. "You with us?"
Lin nodded, though it felt like a lie. "Still here."
Min-joon clung to his sleeve, his small frame trembling with exhaustion. He looked between Lin and the skyline with wide, fearful eyes. "The city… it doesn't look the same."
