The walk back to their rented apartment was a study in contrasts. The neon-drenched streets of Neon Spire were a chaotic, vibrant symphony of life, a stark, almost obscene counterpoint to the cold, heavy silence that had settled over the party. The weight of their new knowledge, the two-day deadline hanging over their heads like a guillotine, was a palpable thing. They were no longer just adventurers on a quest; they were a bomb squad, and the fate of the world was the ticking clock.
They filed into the sterile, minimalist apartment, the door sliding shut with a soft hiss that seemed unnervingly loud in the tense quiet. Kenjiro walked to the center of the room, the data slate from Nexus clutched in his hand. He looked at his friends, at the small, dysfunctional family that had followed him into the neon-lit heart of the dragon's lair. Their faces were a mixture of exhaustion, anxiety, and a grim, unwavering resolve.
