Chapter 48 The Indexed

• The walk toward the city felt like walking into a funeral for a world that hadn't quite finished breathing.
• The outskirts of the Chrysalis District were blurring, the familiar edges of reality softening into something terrifyingly smooth. Where there had once been the comforting, messy landmarks of my life—the crooked wooden fence where a neighbor's dog used to bark, the cracked cobblestones that collected puddles after a rain, the sharp, pungent scent of the tanneries—there was now only a seamless, matte-grey substance. It wasn't stone, and it wasn't metal. It was a silence made solid. It swallowed the sound of our boots, muting the world until the only thing I could hear was the frantic, uneven thud of my own heart.
• "Stay close," Kaden whispered. His hand was white-knuckled on the hilt of his sword. I knew the blade was useless against a god, but seeing his fingers move—seeing the small, human tremor in his grip—was the only thing keeping me grounded. He wasn't a "variable" or an "anomaly." He was Kaden. He was warm, he was scared, and he was here. "Keep your hood up, Alina. If those things are looking for you, don't make it easy for them."