I woke up to the sound of the world coughing.
My back screamed, my head spun, and the taste of soot in my mouth was stronger than any bitter medicine. The sky was too bright. Bluish, indecent, like it was mocking what had just happened.
We were in the middle of a street. Me, lying at an awkward angle, and Thalia thrown a few meters away, wrapped in a tarp that probably belonged to the cart now... well, scattered into dozens of splinters across the pavement.
People began to gather. First the curious. Then the anxious. And finally, the self-appointed justice seekers.
[STATUS: Conscious]
→ Physical Trauma: Moderate
→ Fatigue Level: 73%
→ Posture: Misaligned (Charisma -2)
→ Public Detection: High (Surrounded by civilians)
→ Hostile Attention: Rising...
I tried to stand. My body obeyed, but with the slowness of an old man carrying sins on his back.
"Hey!" someone shouted. "He's alive! That one — over there!"
"Look at the girl! She's hurt!"
