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CHAPTER 117: THE OBSIDIAN TAX
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2026-03-29 10:30:14The morning after the Icarus Protocol did not smell of ozone and burnt metal. It smelled of jasmine and damp earth.
The "Green-Ghost" forest had fully reclaimed Sector 3, its vines weaving through the shattered windows of the Spire and turning the grand lobby into a cathedral of emerald light. The people of the Gutter were no longer huddled in the shadows; they were walking through the new woods, their hands stained with the juice of the golden fruit, their eyes bright with a te
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