The smoke still hung over downtown Eidolon three days later, a gray shroud that refused to lift despite the meteorologists' promises of clear skies. From the twenty-third floor of a commandeered hotel—one of the few buildings left standing in the blast radius—Azrael watched the cleanup crews work below. Tiny figures in hazmat suits moved through rubble that had once been office buildings, searching for survivors they wouldn't find.

The news helicopters had finally stopped circling. ...