The jets descended like silent hawks into the dead city.
The sun had vanished beyond the horizon, and twilight cloaked the ruins in a gloomy veil. The air was dense with the scent of saltwater, decay, and something fouler—something dark and unnatural.
From above, the ruined coastal city was nothing but a skeleton of steel and shattered concrete. Half-submerged buildings tilted like drowning corpses toward the sea. Cars rusted in place, vines crawling over them like forgotten memories. Somewhere deeper in that graveyard of civilization, the Class 12 Shadow Beast stirred.
Grace stood at the edge of the southern cliff, overlooking the disaster zone. Her dragon—a majestic, serpentine creature of shimmering white-gold scales and glowing blue eyes—hovered behind her in the clouds, cloaked by illusion spells.
"2025, confirm enemy positions," she murmured.
