The plaza remained deathly silent.
It wasn't the silence of an empty place. It was the silence of a thousand people holding one breath.
I stood at its center, my boots whispering across stone worn so smooth it reflected the pale blue light like still water. Around me, hundreds knelt.
Citizens of a city the world had forgotten—or perhaps a city that had forgotten the world.
None of them looked at me with fear.
None with worship.
They looked at me with the quiet certainty reserved for sunrise.
Welcome home, Flame.
The greeting settled beneath my ribs like embers refusing to die.
This isn't my home.
I clung to the thought as though repetition alone could make it true.
Home was cracked asphalt beneath summer heat.
Cheap motels smelling of bleach and stale cigarettes. Motorcycle e
