C8 The First Confrontation

The morning air tasted like rust and regret.

I sat on the edge of the narrow window ledge, staring down at the endless arteries of Arkwyn’s streets. The city pulsed beneath me—hover-carriages gliding low, cloaked figures haggling in the shadow of spire-towers, smoke curling from a dozen chimneys like the city was exhaling secrets.

My fingers brushed the flash drive tucked inside my coat. Heavy