The smoke hadn't even settled yet. It still clung to the ruined street in heavy, choking sheets, drifting in slow, lazy curls that tried and failed to hide the damage I'd already done.
Chunks of concrete were still rolling and bouncing down the broken asphalt, clattering off twisted rebar and the skeletons of shattered cars. Somewhere, something metal creaked and gave way, collapsing with a tired groan.
Corvus stepped out of a shadow like he'd just taken a casual walk through a doorway.
Not a scratch on him.
Not even dust on his coat.
Well... other than the small cut I managed on his cheek that stubbornly refused to heal.
He looked like he'd simply strolled in from a different scene entirely, untouched by the destruction I'd just carved into the district. Like this was a minor detour in his evening, not the aftermath of a war crime.
"…You're actually insane," he repeated.
His voice wasn't mocking this time.
It sounded… impressed.
That annoyed me more.
