[POV: Sofia Lanka]

"Drop the shield, Lyon. Look at her hand. Look at the wrist. She doesn't have the burn from the rift-jump, and she definitely doesn't have the wedding band I forged from your old casing. You’re holding a ghost, and she’s leading you straight into a kill-box. Step away from her before the Sentinels finish what the fall started."

Sofia’s voice cut through the thick, ozone-heavy air of the shattered balcony like a serrated blade. She stood at the edge of the rubble, her golden silks torn and stained with the soot of the dying Spire. Her eyes, usually the sharp amber of a hawk, were now glowing...