Morning came not as color, but as temperature. The air thinned, cold crawled into the spaces between ribs. Above the Glass Field, where the city ended in jagged plates, hung a hint of brightness that promised more than it delivered.
Eiko was standing before night fully surrendered. He wiped dew from the joints of his frame, checked if the clamps were still secure, if the wires hadn't secretly rubbed against each other. Rhea sat up, rubbed her temples and made her shoulders crack, as if they had carried a different burden during the night than her body remembered.
"How much did you sleep?" Alaric asked quietly.
"Enough to regret it if I lie," said Rhea and stood up. It sounded like humor, but wasn't.
