The city woke up in pieces.
Not all at once, that would have been too merciful. Instead, the lockdown rolled in like a slow tide, creeping from street to street, district to district, until the entire place realized it had been surrounded by something it couldn't see but could feel in the air.
Mira noticed it first in the sirens.
They didn't wail the way they usually did. There was no urgency, no frantic edge. Just a steady, repeating call that felt more like a heartbeat than an alarm. A rhythm meant to remind people who was still in control.
From the rooftop of their hideout , an abandoned office building overlooking a maze of streets and neon signs , she watched the city change color.
Drones glided overhead, their lights blinking soft blue and red against the clouds. Checkpoints appeared at intersections, lines of vehicles slowing, then stopping, then being waved through or turned away.
