The world was healing—slowly, unevenly, impossibly.
For the first time in years, the skies above Haven-9 weren’t choked with ash. Silver light threaded through the clouds, painting the horizon in pale hues of dawn. Drones moved between the gutted skyscrapers, planting seeds and welding supports. Children played in the ruins where once there had been screams.
From a distance, it looked like peace.
But Leon Vale knew better.
Peace was just the pause between storms.
He stood on the balcony of the restored command tower, wind brushing through his hair. His eyes glowed faintly silver as he gazed at the city—his city now. Below, his people worked under the quiet hum of the Balance network, every action subtly guided by its invisible hand.
Kiera joined him, data pad in hand. “Energy grid’s
