Chapter Thirty Two: The Heart of the Moon
The moon hung high above Seattle, unclouded now, its silver light washing over scorched stone and broken steel. The Heart pulsed faintly at the plaza’s center, its glow no longer blazing but steady—like a heartbeat after battle. Around it, the survivors gathered in a weary hush, the weight of victory tempered by the cost.
Aurora stood before the Heart, her boots stained with blood and ash, her cloak torn at the shoulder. Her body ached, but her spirit remained unbowed.
Kael approached quietly. “The perimeter’s secure. We’ve pushed Lyric’s remnants back beyond the Sound. Some are scattering. Others are regrouping in the shadows.”
Aurora didn’t look away from the Heart. “They’ll be back.”
“They always are,” he said, voice low.
Silence stretched
