The road bled into the tramline district a few blocks later.
We followed the rails east until they simply stopped—melted into the street like someone had poured the city through a strainer.
The tramline ended in a jagged cut through Arcadia's ribs.
We picked our way down, boots crunching glass, the sound too loud in the quiet. Somewhere in the smoke, something heavy collapsed with the sigh of an old building giving up on being vertical.
Arcadia didn't look like it was dying—it looked like it had already decided to stay dead and was just waiting for us to notice.
Jax trudged ahead,breath rasping like gravel in a tin."Everything just feels wrong," he muttered. "Even the air's heavy. And it's like something is watching us."
"Yeah it's creepy i feel it too." Hana said. Her voice was steady, but her hands weren't. Threads glimmered faintly at her fingertips, guiding her step through the ash.
