The violet mist clinging to the streets of the Gutter wasn't just a color; it was a physical weight. As Xin touched down on the cobblestones, the air tasted like ozone and old copper. Hundreds of Sleepers stood in his path, their movements synchronized and jerky, like dolls being pulled by the same invisible string. Their silver skin caught the flickering light of the streetlamps, making them look like statues come to life.
"Xin, they’re closing in on the main lift!" Mei’s voice crackled through his earpiece, strained by the sound of static. "I’m trying to scramble the frequency from the lab, but the source is deep—somewhere in the old drainage pipes beneath the roots. It’s a localized broadcast!"
"I see them," Xin said, his voice a low hum. He stood in the center of the street, his ha
