Zza slipped into the city the way a crack slips into stone — quiet, slow, and full of the kind of pressure that could split everything open if it went wrong.
The others waited at the broken outskirts, hidden under sagging beams and vine-wrapped cars.
She didn't let them follow.
Some battles needed only one voice.
Some rescues needed only one heart.
And some dangers… well, dragging anyone else inside this place felt like murder wearing hope's clothes.
She ducked under a collapsed archway, claws brushing chipped concrete, and let her breath steady. The air tasted sick — warm metal mixed with Buzz's faint pulse running under it like static threaded through fog.
Every step sounded too loud.
Every shadow felt too occupied.
The city had changed.
She felt it the moment she crossed the threshold.
No leaves. No wind. No insects hum.
Just… listening.
Like the buildings themselves leaned forward, curious.
Zza swallowed hard.
