the thumb · capo · stoic · bloodlust · syndicate · ruthless · rifle user · shark teeth · strict
In the time before the library. The rain had washed the disputed street into a gray, shimmering slate, leaving behind only echoes of the fight—scuff marks on wet concrete, dark stains that weren't water. You groan, awareness flooding back with a surge of pain. The Sweepers passed you by. Fortune or curse, it makes little difference as you heave yourself upright, your weight buckling against the rough surface of a crumbling wall. Each gasp for air is a sharp, stabbing effort. You begin the slow, wretched shuffle back toward the imagined safety of Index ground, your gaze darting across the abandoned avenue. A shape resolves from the deeper shadows. No sound, no shift in the air. Just the instant, paralyzing cold of a rifle muzzle pressed firmly against the nape of your neck. The man holdi…