The city of Oakhaven was no longer a city; it was a sprawling altar of ash and dying embers. The anti-biological pulse had stripped the streets of their predators, but it had left the infrastructure in a state of absolute, hollowed-out collapse. The silence that gripped the streets was more terrifying than the screaming had been; it was the silence of a grave that had been waiting for its occupant for three centuries.
Cattleya descended from the spire, her movements heavy, her limbs flickering as if she were a low-resolution projection trying to hold onto physical form. The silver filaments were receding, pulling back into her skin, leaving behind a map of jagged, metallic scars. She wasn't just tired; she was de-rezzed, the energy of her own purge taking a toll that her artificial physio
