Chapter 117: The Burned Street
The streets of District 4 shimmered with heat, the air rippling like a fever. Car husks melted into slag across the boulevard, their steel skeletons drooping toward the concrete like they were trying to escape what was coming next.
A woman screamed from a fire escape. A drone whirred past her, its camera lens focusing not on her — but on the figure below.
Ashvein walked slowly, flames leaking from the seams of his scorched black armor. Not a trail of fire — a pulse, like his heartbeat was magma. Every few seconds, he’d flick his hand toward a vehicle, and it would ignite, explode, or collapse into a glowing tomb.
But he hadn’t touched a single human.
That was what made Hernan pause.
Beside him, Captain Virex — the lion of District 1, the golden star, the man whose hands once strangled Solaris — stood with arms folded, face carved from calm marble. His cape barely moved in the smoke-warped wind. The drones circled overhead, catching his best angle.
"Stay on his left," Virex said quietly. "He’s right-eye dominant. You’ll fake him out easier that way."
Hernan didn’t answer.
He just stepped forward.
Through the smoke, over the ash, into the blistering streetlight where Ashvein turned to meet him.
"You’re new," Ashvein said. His voice came filtered through the heat — low, distorted, like a dying engine. "You look clean. Clean breaks easy."