Traveller Of Two Worlds
The machine of Aeternum was already moving, and nothing in Lone Star could stop its march.
The air I breathed was thick with the scent of ozone and the damp earth of Star City’s forgotten underbelly. My comms unit crackled with static, a faint echo of the chaos brewing above. This was it. The final act. Below, in the suffocating dark, the rebels were amateurs — bakers, smiths, washerwomen, apprentices. Their blades were dull, their hands trembling, but their hearts, I knew, pounded with a conviction stronger than any steel. They were not alone, not truly.
Sikat na Kabanata