Smoke still curled into the night sky long after the tower collapsed. ValeCorp’s black glass lay scattered across the streets of New Echelon like fallen stars, sharp and glittering in the firelight. Alarms howled across the district, a chorus of sirens mixing with the low thunder of collapsing steel.
Aria stood at the edge of the wreckage, chest heaving, blood running hot down her side where Damaris’s claws had torn her open. Dominic kept a hand clamped to her arm, steadying her, but his eyes never stopped scanning the shadows. The fire painted him in red and gold, a soldier carved out of stone.
Around them, the crowd swelled. People pressed against barricades, phones lifted, faces lit by the flames. Some shouted her name. Some cursed her. Most just stared—because the untouchable had bee
