1 — ASH AND MUSCLE
Rain falls like needles on The Nest's battered roof. Inside, Selene tests her stitched leg in the flickering hallway — sweat beads her brow as she flexes, winces, breathes through it.
Micah watches from the control rig — a donut balanced on his knee, headset slipping.
Micah (mock cheerleader):
"Walk it off, champ. Maybe next time don't pick a fight with Iron Bird Mark II, yeah?"
Selene breathes deep — rolls her shoulder. The fresh scar under her ribs pulls tight.
Selene:
"Shut up, Micah."
She steps forward — slow, steady, cloak dragging like a wounded shadow.
She whispers to herself, quiet enough he can't hear:
Selene (a promise to her father's ghost):
"Keep moving. Wings don't heal if you stay on the ground."
---
2 — THE CITY NEVER SLEEPS
Meanwhile, in a cracked office four blocks from the docks — Ward sits hunched over an old case board. Yellowed photos. Red yarn. Half-smoked cigarettes in a chipped mug.
Greer leans over his shoulder — her breath fogs the glass when she leans too close.
Her finger taps a new lead: an Ashfall Foundation donor's name circled three times in red.
Dr. Greer (dry, defiant):
"So the Flock's got claws in charity. Dead kids, fake funds. Who's surprised?"
Ward rubs his eyes raw — the city's rot tastes like salt and stale coffee on his tongue.
Ward:
"Just don't chase that thread too fast. Mendoza's already sniffing your trail — I can't keep her out forever."
Greer scoffs — flicks her pen at him.
Dr. Greer:
"She's a bloodhound with a badge. She'll catch a scent even if we lock the door."
Ward says nothing — but his eyes flick to the corner drawer, where Selene's secrets sleep in a battered file only he can open.
---
3 — MENDOZA'S HUNT
Outside, Mendoza paces the precinct's rooftop — rain drips from her lashes as she lights a cheap cigarette under the leaking gutter.
Below, the city's neon hums like a rotting beehive.
She watches Ward's window glow — knows he's shielding Greer, knows he's lying.
She breathes smoke through clenched teeth.
Mendoza (to herself, a vow):
"One slip, Raven — one slip. Then you're mine. And Ward can burn too."
A rumble of thunder answers her threat — the city shivers in the dark.
---
4 — THE FEED
Back at The Nest, Micah's screens flicker — old CCTVs, coded taps on the Flock's dark channels.
He slurps cold coffee — his fingers dance over keys like they're piano wire.
On one window — a spreadsheet leaks out: Ashfall Foundation donations. In the margin: a hush fund, blood money, old city contracts with names blacked out.
He whistles — low, a graveyard tune.
Micah (muttering):
"Well look at that — the Flock's buying friends in high places. Classic rich creeps — hide the rot in charity galas."
He keys up a line to Ward's burner.
Micah (grins):
"Hey Sheriff, our feathered freaks just paid off half the Ashfall board. You owe me a pizza for this."
Ward's voice growls back through static.
Ward:
"You get cheese. No toppings. Now delete the trail before Mendoza smells it."
Micah salutes his screen.
Micah:
"Copy that, cowboy."
---
5 — JESS AND THE WOUND
In the quiet of The Nest's back alcove, Jess strips off her gloves — her hands smell of antiseptic and old soap.
Selene limps in, dragging her cloak behind her like a broken wing.
Jess catches her, steadies her by the arm — their eyes lock: tired, afraid, in love with a promise that might kill them both.
Jess (soft, pleading):
"Stay down tonight. Please. For me. For once."
Selene brushes her hair back — leaves a faint smear of blood behind her ear. She kisses Jess's temple — brief, aching.
Selene:
"The city won't stay down, Jess. So neither can I."
Jess nods — but her eyes shine with fresh cracks.
---
6 — RAFI THE RAT
Across town — Rafi crouches in the old parking garage, laptop screen flickering blue across his face.
He's replaying the Dock 47 footage on loop — Talon falling, Raven's mask half-broken, blood slick on concrete.
He laughs to himself — manic, hungry.
Rafi (to the screen):
"You bleed like the rest of us. You break like the rest of us. One day, I'll break you too. And they'll thank me for it."
He kills the file — slams the laptop shut. He whispers a new vow to the cracked floor.
Rafi:
"Or maybe I'll wear your wings instead."
---
7 — THE HOLLOW CROW
Up in the velvet cage — Crow sits on his rotting throne, ringed by old suits, rusted guns, hush money, and hungry masks.
He holds an old feather in one gloved hand — black with oil.
A masked lieutenant kneels at his feet — voice like sandpaper behind a silver filter.
Lieutenant:
"Talon's dead. The street rats whisper fear. The city's watching for her wings."
Crow laughs — raw silk splitting on teeth.
King Crow:
"Good. Let them watch. Let them think they see hope — let them cling to feathers like prayers. Then we pluck the sun out of the sky. Phase Two waits under the ash."
He crushes the feather in his palm — black powder drifts to the marble floor.
Crow leans forward — eyes gleaming like a raven's hungry for bones.
King Crow (a whisper to the ceiling):
"Fly, little Raven. Fly till your wings rot. We're the nest you can't burn."
---
8 — THE RAVEN'S EDGE
Back at The Nest — Selene stands at the old warehouse window. Rain bleeds neon down the glass — the city is a blur of bruises and false light.
Jess sleeps on the couch behind her — Micah snores at his rig.
Selene slides her mask back on — tests the cracked edge. She tightens the talon gauntlets on her wrists.
She whispers to the dark city — a promise and a curse:
Selene:
"One more monster. One more lie. One more flight into the fire."
Outside, sirens wail like wolves in the rain — and feathers drift through the gutters like secrets the city can't drown.
---
END OF CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN