The morning after the storm did not feel like morning at all.
The sky was gray, the color of smoke and dust, and the city below looked like it had forgotten what light was. Aria stood at the broken window of the bunker, staring out at what used to be the heart of power, now only ruins, wires, and ashes. The empire that once belonged to Sebastian Draven was gone.
Or so she thought.
Elias came up behind her quietly. His hair was messy, his clothes covered in soot. "They've stopped fighting for now," he said softly. "The other factions pulled back. Everyone's waiting to see what happens next."
Aria didn't answer. Her fingers touched the cracked glass, tracing the spiderweb lines that ran across it. The city reflected faintly on the surface, smoke, empty streets, the ghosts of buildings.
She whispered, "It's strange, isn't it? He built this whole city to be untouchable. Now it's begging to fall."
Elias looked at her, worried. "You haven't slept."
