The hum had changed.

Hale felt it first — subtle, but different. The rhythm that had pulsed through the city since the surge was… uneven now. A stutter beneath the steady current. Like a heartbeat skipping.

He stood at the edge of the Westline Transit Overpass, looking out over the city as dawn deepened into full light. The towers shimmered faintly, veins of gold and violet light running through their glass facades. Drones glided overhead, silent and precise — too precise.

“Gray,” ...