The night fell silently over the City, as if it had learned to swallow sounds.
Only the Network hummed. A deep tone that didn't vibrate, but breathed.
Lina stood on the Bridge that led over the central data field, watching the light flow beneath her like liquid Gold – sluggish, comforting, but restless at the edges.
"You're listening to him again, aren't you?"
Alaric's voice was calm, but she felt the resistance in it.
"I listen to everything," she answered. "But yes – he whispers."
"What does he say?"
"He asks me if pain is an error."
She turned to him. The wind brushed through her hair, and the smell of metal and dust settled on her lips.
Alaric stood a few meters away, the light from the Field drawing thin lines across his face. The shadows beneath his eyes had deepened – fatigue or worry, perhaps both.
"And what did you answer?" he asked.
"Nothing yet. I wanted to hear you first."
