The world had gone strangely quiet.
Yunfeng, half-unconscious and barely hanging on, was supported between Lu Zhi and Muchen as they rushed through the empty streets.
The air was thick with the scent of damp concrete and something metallic—blood, or perhaps rust from the abandoned cars left haphazardly along the road.
Behind them, Hana carried Yuki close to her chest, the child's small fingers clutching her jacket in silent fear, while Kailun and Qiu Yue brought up Zei from the rear, constantly checking for signs of pursuit.
The city was eerily still, as if holding its breath.
Somewhere in the distance, a siren moaned and died, its echo swallowed by the oppressive silence.
No other soul walked these streets—only them.
