The night had teeth.
Black clouds pressed low against the horizon, broken only by the jagged flashes of lightning that illuminated the steel monsters ahead. The fleet stretched wide across the sea, engines growling like chained beasts, cannons glistening with the hunger of war.
Cain stood at the prow, his cloak thrashing in the storm winds, rain streaking across his face like claws. His blade was unsheathed now, steel glimmering every time lightning split the sky. The sea churned below, restless, alive, answering his pulse with its own.
Susan gripped the railing beside him, pale but defiant, her ribs bound tight, her cigarette extinguished by the storm. "So this is it," she said, raising her voice over the roar. "The part where you make good on your promise and bring gods to their knees."
