There was no sound.
No storm.
No war.
Just the soft rhythm of rain.
Leon opened his eyes slowly. Above him stretched a gray sky, the kind that hung over the slums after long nights of acid rain. He lay on cold pavement, the smell of oil and rust filling his lungs.
He blinked.
He was back in Sector Nine.
The same cracked street. The same flickering neon signs. Even the same mechanic’s garage where it had all begun.
But it couldn’t be.
Leon sat up, wincing at the ache in his chest. His armor was gone. His clothes were the same ragged work uniform he’d worn before the Reset — torn, stained with grease.
His hands trembled. No golden glow. No runes. No System interface.
For the first time in what felt like forever, his mind was… quiet.
He whispered, “System?”
Silence.
No response.
