The car slid through the city with silent, predatory grace—its mana-drive humming low beneath the polished floorboards, gliding effortlessly down one of Vermillion's elevated arterial lanes. Sunset had begun to stretch across the skyline, casting deep amber light across the chrome and glass that defined the city's bones. Below them, Vermillion pulsed—hover-trams weaving through neon-lit veins, traffic streaming like data across a circuit.
Damien sat reclined in the rear passenger seat, jacket unbuttoned, one arm draped along the leather edge. He watched the world blur past for a long moment, then shifted his gaze to his mother across from him.
"So," he said casually, "shouldn't we do the driving lessons today?"
Vivienne didn't look up from her data-slate right away. "Today?" she echoed, tone flat.
He shrugged. "Why not?"
