I lower myself onto the makeshift bench—a long beam salvaged from a collapsed ballista mount—and let the weight of the last few hours settle into my bones.
I check my post-battle experience.
[Reward: +2% to Rank Advancement (Kill Assist)]
[Reward: +24% to Rank Advancement (Kill)]
[Current Rank Status: 40%]
Rank D…
I touch the Pearl through the fabric of my pocket. Cold and smooth. Just waiting.
Not yet. But close.
Boris is building the fire. No ceremony. Broken equipment, splintered wood, strips of carcass too damaged to salvage. He stacks them fast, efficient, not thinking about it.
The flames catch. Small at first—then climbing, pushing the desert cold back in a growing circle of orange light.
"You can rest, kid." Boris feeds a cracked shield panel into the fire. "Next Red Tide won't come for fifteen, maybe twenty days. And since I know nothing's going to keep you from going back to that tower—"
"Go on," I say.
