The silence was worse than the roar.
The city, once deafening with the collapse of towers and the shriek of resonance, lay still. Dust swirled in lazy currents, thick enough to sting the eyes and coat the tongue with grit. Fires burned in distant husks of buildings, but even they seemed muted, as if the world itself dared not disturb what had just passed.
Min-joon lowered and Lin carefully onto the cracked pavement, his chest heaving, his face streaked with blood and sweat. Lin's body convulsed in his grip, black runes pulsing faintly across his chest and arms, flickering with the remnants of abyssal energy. Chains slithered beneath his skin like worms struggling is to burrow free.
"Stay with me," Min-joon whispered, his voice trembling but firm. "You're not gone. You're still here. I've got you."
