The city blurred in streaks of neon as I sprinted across the rooftop, heart pounding, every breath sharp. The Umbra’s Ghostblades hunted without sound—no warning, just the sudden pull of gravity when it was too late. I slipped through vents and shadows, certain I’d lost them. The alley below beckoned like escape. I hit the ground running, hope flickering—then came the snap of energy, the cold bite of restraint. I collapsed, vision fading as the mark of Umbra glowed through the haze. Shit.
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