The adrenaline crash was brutal.
Vane sat on the edge of the rusted balcony. His legs dangled over the churning fog bank. His body felt like it had been run through a rock crusher. Every muscle fiber was twitching. His mana reserves were dangerously low and he was pretty sure three of his ribs were cracked again.
Next to him sat Senna.
She wasn't crashed. She was vibrating. The twenty-four-hour lease on life Isole had granted her was still burning hot in her veins. She glowed with a terrifying vitality in the dimming light. Her skin was pale and flawless. Her dark eyes were restless. She kept flexing her hands marveling at the absence of pain.
The sun was setting behind the eternal cloud layer. It turned the grey world into a bruised landscape of deep purples and blood reds. It was the most color Vane had ever seen in the forgotten sector.
He reached inside his shredded uniform jacket and pulled out a dented metal flask.
