The earth still trembled faintly, long after the light had faded.
A low hum coursed through the air like the aftermath of a thunderstorm, distorting the fog around Blinding Town's outskirts into swirling ribbons of white.
Two figures moved quietly through the mist — cloaked, careful, and alert.
Timothy crouched low, one hand pressed to the damp earth. The ground was still warm, radiating faint pulses of energy that climbed up his arm like static.
He glanced at Hughes beside him. "You felt that too, right?"
Hughes nodded slowly, eyes sharp behind his hood. "Hard not to. That wasn't a normal tremor. Whatever that blast was—it came from the heart of the fog."
They both turned toward the distant hillside, where the faint glow of collapsing stone still shimmered beneath the haze.
That was where the explosion had come from.
Timothy narrowed his eyes, squinting past the drifting layers of fog until he caught sight of faint silhouettes—three of them.
