The Spire was gone, but its ghost remained in the form of a black, carbon-dust rain that coated the Dead-Zone for three days. It turned the white salt into a grey, slushy wasteland, masking the footprints of the thousand people who were currently wandering aimlessly, waiting for a command that would never come.
"They're standing in line, Leo," Mara said, wiping grey sludge from her forehead. "They've been standing in line for four hours in front of the cargo lift. They're waiting for the 'Log-Out' prompt."
I sat on a rusted crate, my body feeling like it had been hollowed out by a vacuum. The white scars on my arm were no longer glowing, but they throbbed with a dull, rhythmic ache every time the wind picked up.
"There is no log-out," I rasped. My voice was still recovering from the scr
