The sun was coming up, the sky shifting from black to a bruised purple that cast weird shadows through the holes in what used to be an office building.
Nox sat with his back against a chunk of concrete that was probably a wall once, his legs sprawled out in front of him, covered in dust and dried blood that wasn't all his, the revolver sitting in his lap, still warm from the last bugs he'd put down an hour ago.
He was exhausted, bone-deep, soul-crushing fatigue that came from running on empty for too long, and his regeneration skill kept him alive, kept his wounds from killing him, but it didn't give him back the energy he burned through fighting and walking and just existing in this hellscape.
The map marker for the princess was still blinking in his vision, had been shifting all night, jumping from one location to another, either she was moving or the system was playing games with him, either way he hadn't found her yet.
