The transport moved west through the gray morning, its wheels grinding over roads cracked and damaged by the Cleansing's earthquakes. Nathan sat near the front with Moonlight across his knees, while the Tyrant's Eye moved restlessly.
The eastern sector was now behind them. Its fires were slowly dying as the TCA's teams worked to contain the damage.
But the western front was still burning and the party was heading straight into it.
Smithy sat away from the others, his Void Eel resting in his lap. Its ghostly body passed through his legs as it moved restlessly. He hadn't spoken since the debriefing.
He seemed to understand that the others tolerated his presence but didn't trust him yet.
If he wanted their trust, he would have to earn it. If they ever gave him the chance.
Nathan's three summons were in their small forms—Mirko on his shoulder, Kuro in his jacket pocket, Shiro perched with regal stillness on his head. Their presences hummed through the link, alert and focused.
