The streets east of Market were bones.
Jax limped beside me, cleaver strapped across his back, armor humming each time the weight shifted. "You sure this is the right way?"
"If it's not," I said, "we'll die faster. Saves time."
Hana didn't even try to smile. She kept one thread unspooled, brushing the ground like a blind man's cane. Every time it touched rubble, it twitched—alive, nervous.
[Quest Progress: Evac Lanes Σ + 2 %]
Somewhere ahead, a drone wailed orders it didn't understand."Corridor Lambda unstable… fallback to Command Row…"Then it looped, static drowning the rest.
"That's encouraging," Jax muttered.
"Better than silence," I said. "Silence means everything's already dead."
We passed what was left of a tram stop. Bent rails, broken screens, a vending unit still blinking insert credits like it expected someone to care. The air smelled like metal fat.
