The burger place's glass door swung shut behind them with a soft pneumatic hiss.
The afternoon light hit Hoshimi's face, thin and gray, filtering through clouds that had gathered while they ate. The street was the same as before.
Neila stepped out last, her white coat pristine despite the grease-laden air of the restaurant. She paused on the sidewalk, tilting her head back to examine the sky with the critical eye of someone who had opinions about weather.
"Finally," she announced. "Fresh air. Well, city air. Marginally less contaminated than the chemical warfare they were conducting in that kitchen."
"It was a burger place," Hoshimi said.
"Exactly."
Neila was still wiping her mouth with a napkin she'd stolen from the dispenser. "I can't believe you made me eat that. I can feel my arteries clogging. I can feel the peasant grease coating the insides of my throat."
Kira's grip on his sleeve had loosened slightly during the meal but hadn't released. Her fingers were still curled into the fabric, her knuckles pale, her breathing shallow but steady. She was counting under her breath, Hoshimi could hear the faint rhythm of it.
Sam emerged from the restaurant behind them, his red hair catching the gray light in ways that made it look almost artificial. His smile was still fixed in place, that unnerving expression that seemed to exist independently of whatever he was actually feeling.
"We're moving," he announced. "Same formation. Two ahead, two behind. Keep your heads down and your mana suppressed. We don't want to attract-"
White Scene.
One moment the city was gray and indifferent, the next it was a sheet of pure, blinding radiance that seemed to come from everywhere at once.
The shockwave hit first.
Hoshimi felt it in his chest, a pressure that compressed his lungs and rattled his teeth and made his vision blur at the edges.
Hoshimi's hand found Kira's shoulder, pulling her down by instinct. She was already ducking, her body folding into itself like paper, her grip on his sleeve so tight he could feel the fabric straining.
"W-what???" Her voice was barely audible over the ongoing thunder. "What's happening? What's-"
The sky turned orange.
Not the gentle orange of sunset. The violent orange of fire reflected on smoke, of buildings burning and fuel igniting and something fundamental breaking in the machinery that kept the city alive. The clouds themselves seemed to catch light, becoming a ceiling of flame that stretched from horizon to horizon.
"Excuse me!?" Neila started.
The second explosion came from the east. Then the third from the south. The fourth from somewhere too close to pinpoint, a rolling thunder of destruction that seemed to be circling them like wolves around wounded prey.
Smoke rose in columns across the cityscape. Black and gray and the dirty orange of things that should never have been burning. Sirens began to wail, too many to count, a chorus of mechanical desperation that rose and fell and rose again.
People were screaming.
Not the controlled panic of a fire drill. The raw, animal terror of prey that had just realized the predator was already among themPeople were screaming.
The street erupted into chaos. A mother grabbed her child and ran, not looking where she was going, just running. An old man stumbled and fell and was nearly trampled before someone—Hoshimi couldn't see who—hauled him up and pushed him toward a doorway. Shopkeepers were pulling down metal shutters, their faces blank with the practiced fear of people who had lived through this before and knew they would live through it again.
"Move!" Sam's voice cut through the noise. His hand was on Hoshimi's back, pushing, guiding. "Now. Go!"
The other government agents were already moving, forming a loose perimeter around the group, their weapons drawn, their eyes scanning the chaos for threats. One of them, Hoshimi couldn't remember his name, a young man with a forgettable face, grabbed Edward's arm and pulled him toward the narrow gap between two buildings.
Edward's metal legs clanked against the pavement. His face didn't change. He moved like he was being pulled through water, slow, resistant, but not fighting.
Lucy drifted after them like a ghost. Her empty sleeve swayed with each step. Her crimson eyes remained fixed on something only she could see.
The alley was dark, barely wide enough for two people, lined with dumpsters and cardboard boxes and the accumulated grime of years. The walls were old brick, stained with decades of city grime and the faint, acrid smell of things that had died in the darkness and been forgotten. A single bulb flickered overhead, casting everything in pulses of sickly yellow light.
The smell hit Hoshimi immediately.
Dirt. Not the clean dirt of a garden or a forest floor. The thick, cloying dirt of a place that had never been cleaned, that had accumulated layers of filth and decay and the quiet desperation of people who had nowhere else to go.
It coated his tongue, his throat, his lungs. It made his eyes water.
Kira pressed against him, her face buried in his shoulder, her whole body shaking. Her breathing was too fast, too shallow. He could feel her heart pounding through the fabric of her jacket, could feel the faint thrum of her mana beginning to destabilize.
"Breathe," he said quietly.
"I'm trying. I'm trying. I'm—"
"Shh." He covered her hand with his. "Just breathe."
Neila almost threw up, she covered her nose to mask the smell.
"I can't even stand looking at this putrid place, can we go somewhere else?"
Edward's prosthetics clicked against the uneven ground, a mechanical rhythm that was too fast, too irregular. Lucy stood at the edge of the group, her remaining hand raised, blood already beginning to pool at her feet.
Sam positioned himself at the alley's entrance, his body blocking the narrow opening. His hand was inside his jacket, resting on something Hoshimi couldn't see. His eyes, those dark, empty eyes, swept the street beyond with professional precision.
"Stay put," he said without looking back. "We wait for the all-clear."
"Wait for what all-clear?" Neila's voice dripped with contempt. "Yea duh cause someone in an exploding city is going to come up to us and give us the all-clear."
"Then we wait for orders."
"Orders." She tasted the word like something foul. "You're going to get us all killed because you're waiting for—"
The light flickered.
Just once.
Just enough.
Hoshimi's hand tightened on Kira's shoulder. Something had shifted in the air, a change in pressure, a presence that hadn't been there a moment before.
She was there.
One moment the alley was empty except for the group and their escorts. The next, she was simply there, landing in a crouch between Sam and the others, her boots making no sound on the dirt-caked ground.
She was shorter than Neila, her frame compact and efficient, built for movement rather than presence. Her dark hair was pulled back in a severe ponytail, not a single strand out of place. Her eyes were the color of wet stone, gray and cold and absolutely still.
Jiyeon
She wore black. Practical clothing, reinforced at the joints, designed for combat rather than fashion. Her boots were scuffed but well-maintained, the leather worn smooth in patterns that spoke of years of use. Her hands were gloved, the fingers wrapped around the hilt of a sword that gleamed in the strobing light.
The edge caught the flickering light and held it, transforming each flash into a line of silver that seemed to cut through the air itself.
The blade in her hand was a single-edged straight sword.
Sam moved.
He was fast, faster than Hoshimi had expected from someone who smiled like that. His hand went for the weapon concealed beneath his jacket, his body already shifting into a defensive stance.
Jiyeon's sword moved.
Not fast. It was in one position and then in another, with no apparent transition between the two states. The blade traced an arc through the air that was almost gentle, almost tender, like a lover's caress.
The agent nearest to her, the young one with the forgettable face, the one who had pulled Edward into the alley, didn't even have time to scream.
His head separated from his body.
"Alain!"