Kane stepped out of St. Aveline's Cathedral into Feilun's mist-shrouded streets.
The early morning air bit at his skin, crisp and clean after the cathedral's incense-heavy atmosphere.
His breath formed small clouds as he walked, hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets.
The absence hit him immediately. No familiar tug toward the corporate district. No constant awareness of Cyrus's location humming beneath his skin like a second heartbeat.
Kane paused at a street corner, amber eyes scanning the empty sidewalks.
A delivery truck rumbled past, its headlights cutting through the gray dawn light. The city felt different without that connection—larger, lonelier.
He pulled out his phone, his thumb hovering over Cyrus's contact.
He should text Cyrus an update—let him know he was heading to the BSA and that Cyrus didn't need to wait for him.
The words formed in his mind:
Going to headquarters. Catch up with you later, dragon.
But his thumb hesitated over the send button.
