Day turned to night, and night rose to a loud morning.
Kael didn't feel the hours the way he used to back on Earth, no yawning hunger, no heavy eyelids from a drained body, but the Tower still had a rhythm, and it still ground time into you.
One moment he was hunched over leather and scale, palms blackened with soot and powdered shell, listening to distant shrieks fade into the city's hollow silence. The next, the darkness outside thinned into that ugly early light again, and the world sounded wrong, too many feet, too many throats, too much movement for a place that had been quiet yesterday.
The circle of flames had finally covered the entirety of the train station. Kael could see it from his mini-map.
