The air thickened as Hale and Gray stepped into the light.

Every step felt like wading through an ocean of static—the pressure of countless memories, fragments, whispers of a city that was once alive.

The sphere that dominated the chamber pulsed brighter now, rhythm splitting into two alternating frequencies. One soft and harmonic, the other jagged, discordant—Evelyn and Doran, locked in opposition.

“Readings are all over the place,” Gray muttered, watching his handheld display ...