The city lay before her like a wounded machine — its skyline fractured by darkness, towers flickering with inconsistent power, reflections shimmering in puddles of acid rain.

Doran stood at the edge of what was once the central comm array, now a ruin of twisted metal and shattered glass. The hum of the network was faint but present, like a heartbeat echoing under concrete. The air smelled of ozone and static.

She lifted her wrist-link, and the faint holographic interface pulsed to life — ...