The artificial sun hung suspended over the northern aqueduct arches, casting a harsh, unnatural cerulean glare across the upper terraces of Ouro.
Unlike the gentle warmth of the municipal core, this stolen star pulsed with coercive radiation that forced every mortal eye to look toward its zenith.
Hajin crouched behind the iron reinforcement brace of the transit arch, feeling the blistering heat radiating off the metal girders.
Beside him, Juna stood under the narrow strip of brace shade, raising her gauntleted hand to shield her vision from the blinding glare.
"Can the cores hear us through this frequency?" the vanguard whispered, her wings pulled tight against her back to minimize exposure.
"You designed the question to expose the answer," Hajin replied softly, tracking the flickering mana conduits looping into the chassis above.
"If they could hear through the glare, they wouldn't need six scrying relays pointing at our terrace."
