10:52 AM – Outer District, Sector Delta-12
The neighborhood was quiet.
Too quiet.
Old apartments leaned like tired skeletons over cracked sidewalks. Streetlights flickered even in the daylight, and broken vending machines buzzed like angry insects. A thin mist lingered along the ground not from weather, but from the city's broken infrastructure — a smell of rust, wires, and something rotting underneath it all.
Leo Foster adjusted his mask, the subtle golden glow of his web-suit humming as he scanned the rooftops.
"We're close. I can feel it."
Amy Croft moved beside him, her ponytail bouncing with each step. Her gauntlets shimmered faintly with icy-blue energy, and the wind reacted to her presence like it knew her name.
"How do you know?" she asked, eyes scanning the broken alleyways.
Leo paused, kneeling by a nearby trash bin.
A swarm of dead bugs.
Burnt.
Some still twitching — their exoskeletons cracked like scorched metal.
