The bronze coin hummed against Clek's chest.
He stood in the garden, his hand pressed against the coin, feeling its warmth seep through his shirt. The air was still, unnaturally quiet, as if the city itself was holding its breath. The survivors were scattered around the safehouse, their faces pale, their eyes filled with a fear that had become all too familiar.
The storm was coming. He could feel it in his bones, in the pulse of the coin, in the whispers that had been growing louder in his mind for days. The darkness was gathering, not as a single force, but as a convergence—a joining of shadows that had been scattered across the world.
Aria's presence flickered in his mind, soft and concerned. "Clek. You need to tell me what's happening. I can feel your fear."
"I'm not afraid," he sai
