The drive north was quieter. No one cracked jokes this time. The ruins stretched endless—half-sunk cars, broken streetlamps, the occasional corpse pinned against concrete like warning signs.
Carla kept glancing at the rear window. "Still nothing."
Lyra hummed low, fingers brushing the steering wheel. "It’s following, though. I can feel it in the roots."
Kael’s eyes stayed on the map spread across his lap—an old, tattered military printout. "North sector used to be a research site. They called it the Sanctum."
Elias raised a brow. "Sanctum? That’s original."
"According to this," Kael continued, tapping a circle marked with faded ink, "they were studying Choir anomalies. If anyone figured out what the Penitent really was—it’d be there."
Crimora leaned back, tossing a spark between her
