The subway tunnel didn’t just shake—it groaned, deep and awful, like the earth was getting squeezed by some invisible giant. Dust drifted down in heavy gray flakes, settling on Maya’s hair. She didn’t even flinch. All her focus was on Julian, on the bloody mess of his shoulder. Her hands, once so steady she could cut someone open and stitch them back together, now trembled so much she could barely rip the bandages apart.
“Julian, look at me!” Her voice came out sharp, loud, the same tone she used in the ER when things got bad. “Don’t close your eyes. I mean it. That’s an order!”
Julian tried to laugh, but it came out as a cough. He was so pale he almost blended into the dust. “Since when… do I take orders… from you?”
“Since I became the woman who broke a God,” Maya shot back. Her eyes s
