The descent was a grueling crawl through razor-sharp shale and frozen scree. Elian led the way, his boots finding purchase on the slick, wet rock by instinct rather than sight. The world felt raw, stripped of its synthetic sheen, yet every breath he took carried the unsettling sensation that the air was vibrating. It wasn't the hum of a server, but something else. A static electricity that seemed to manifest whenever he thought of the name 'Thorne'.
"Do you feel that?" Sarah asked, her voice hitching as she slid down a steep embankment. She shook her hand violently, the skin around her fingertips turning a bruised, deep purple. "The dust. It’s clinging to me, Elian. It feels… magnetic."
Elian stopped, grabbing her arm to steady her. He looked down at her jacket. The fine gray grit of the
