S.Pew: Chapter 1

“Sweet Jesus…” Even if I stopped believing in God long ago, the mangled corpse with its arms ripped off and pushed deep into what used to be a ribcage staring back at me made me wish there was someone up there protecting us. Well someone besides the obvious, I guess…fucking Aberrants. A cigarette found it's way into the curve of my lip, then as if puppeted by thin little strings, I lit it and took a smooth inhale of its contents.

The apartment was claustrophobicly small, black mold and yellow nicotine stains had ruined the what walls that pressed into a low hanging ceiling…empty food trash wrappers and jugs of what I assumed was piss were enough to make my eyes water.

Or possibly it was the body rotting in the center of the tragedy carpet.

“Should we call The Alliance or whatever they call themselves now? This looks like one of their guys–maybe even one of those idiots the Armistead company has been letting loose.” My partner, Joy, began to chip in casually while poking the body with her boot. She didn't even flinch at the mess we stumbled into but by the way she was frowning it was clear something was annoying her.

Instead of responding, I simply pointed at her brown little evidence staining shoes and began to inspect the inside of the grimey blood filled ‘abode’ that whispered it's tale. The body was uneaten–ruling out any feral Aberrant and possibly any unstable one at that from how precise the execution was.

Yet, the brutality level meant that it wasn't a human at the same time. It was hard to focus with its eyeless face staring back at me in a constant state of shocked decomposition. “Has the Executive or Rep. over at Armistead called back yet?” I asked between puffs of smoke.

Joy checked her phone while clacking her nails to the screen; something I hated but ignored for the time being since we were still freshly conjoined now that my last partner decided to die on me.

“Nope nothing yet, doesn't surprise me though–New Heaven is supposed to be clean. They wouldn't want another scandal Like in Old York.” Just as she mentioned the shady company, her phone began to buzz. Joy excused herself while shuffling past the body, answering in an overly happy tone.

Old York; I had almost forgotten about the paper I read over breakfast this morning that went over the latest blunder of Armistead Inc.. It was a wonder to me that they could fuck up in a stranded walled in island bought up by their company. The latest seemed to be that they were trying to train some young team of Lesser Aberrants to act like a shitty version of The Alliance and were getting lots of eyes on them for how little success they were seeing–if that was even possible after all the people The Alliance themselves get killed daily.

I'd have an answer soon enough though–I had to focus, I needed to gather more evidence for the time being. The apartment smelled like rotted fruit and feces to my dismay as I moved farther in and passed a pile of empty bottles. As I looked at the body I noticed it must have been here for at least a week by the condition of the home but still had fresh blood and pristine skin condition.

A healing factor–

My prior experience with an Aberrant that had a healing factor in a similar case a few months ago led me to the medicine cabinet of the studio apartment. The grungy sink was still running, leaving the mirrors and window fogged and the bathroom much more damp than the rest of the cramped space. I refrained from turning it off, though it pained me, We needed everything to solve this instead of just throwing our hands up and blaming Feral Aberrants…I needed to make sure this specific person was held accountable–there had been too many witch trials and lynching in the last 2 years for my taste since our new chief took the reigns.

The cabinet clicked open and revealed what I was looking for: all manner of different prescription drugs, each with a different name on them. The guy was a junky. Combine that with a healing factor and you got somebody willing to do anything for their next score and never find the end of the rabbit hole…

I needed to find his dealer or hospital that dealt with him. It would be easy, no Aberrants are allowed to receive hospital treatment in the city and most dealers would never sell to them either. A few names came to mind just as Joy stepped back into the room with a nervous smile.

“So get this–Good news: He is registered, Robert Christian, passed the stability tests with flying colors. He worked down at the new stadium with no issue for the last 8 months.” Joy paused while staring at me, biting the inside of her cheek for a moment. “Bad News: due to him being registered, an Exec. from ol’Armi is gonna pay us a visit.” She shrugged her shoulders.

I motioned to the open medicine cabinet with my right hand. “I doubt they're gonna be able to do much besides wipe this place down–come check this out though,” There was a small shine coming from behind the shower curtain that caught my attention; not a full on glow like we were about to be devoured by a feral, but there was something familiar about the neon glimmering that hid behind the curtain.

I gently pulled the curtain back to see a pair of eyes, one glowing yellow and the other dimly glowing pink. “Disgusting…” I muttered before taking a photo for evidence. There were no droplets of blood around the pair of peepers–only seven small droplets of water.

“You think that's why he hasn't healed yet?” Joy asked while turning back to the body barely visible through the doorway. Her short black hair bobbed slightly, putting lines In the bathroom mirror as she passed to my annoyance.

I looked down to the eyes in the tub. They did not match–maybe the killer had left it behind by mistake in the scuffle. What a stupid thought, if the killer had lost an eye and was an Aberrant himself; it would be almost childsplay to shrug off a minor injury LIke that…

Unless. I stepped over to the yellow eye, noticing its glow most thoroughly. Taking a deep breath, I grabbed it begrudgingly and walked briskly through the apartment.

Joy let out a frustrated sigh before speaking. “You're not gonna bring it back are you? I don't need blood on my new pants just for him to gargle some bullshit and lawyer up.”

It was too late, I had popped the eye back into socket with my thumb and felt the jolt of sacred life return to the Aberrant as it squisily settled into flesh. Blood began to spurt from his arms and his stomach knit itself over the misplaced limbs within seconds. I would have felt bad for the guy as he was spitting and coughing up buckets of blood all over if it weren't for the dead look in his eyes–not even reacting to what I assumed was an insane amount of pain. Who fucking knows with these things…

“Hello,” I said, trying to match his detached energy while wincing at the nubs that began to form at his shoulders. “My name is Detective Pew–Sebastian Pew. Someone killed you…or tried to,” The man didn't so much as flinch as it rolled its sole eye to face me then jolted back to the bathroom to almost scan Joy's short frame. The Poor guy's brain must not have been able to endure the trauma, It may have been too late to save what was left. “Can you hear me?” I repeated.

There was no response. Joy made her way past the building puddle of blood to my side, taking another photo with her phone. “You're wasting your time and making us have more paperwork..so you're wasting both our time–”

“M-Ma…Ma,” The man responded with a sob, his lip beginning to quiver as he still stared from the floor into Joy’s freckled face. “MAMA! MAMA MAMA!” He was almost shrieking like a goat at this point, frantically scrambling with his eyes to the jutting appendages that were still pointing exposed bone our direction from his now healed abdomen.

“What the fu–” I would have said if we weren't suddenly interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. In my moment of lapsed focus the Aberrant noisily climbed on all fours and started to howl like a dog as the bones scraped on the ground; whipping it's neck back and forth as it randomly screamed mother at Joy and knocked over piles of garbage.

Another heavy knock at the door cut through the Aberrant's howls. Joy and I exchanged a glance, her hand instinctively moving to her holstered pistol. I nodded, stepping towards the door as she covered me.

"NHPD, who's there?" I called out, my voice steady as the Aberrant stopped the mad cawing to only scratch at the floor with its limp stomach arms in a small circle of bare wood flooring.

"Thompson, Armistead Executive," came the reply, the voice tinged with an artificial undertone that set my teeth on edge. Great, they sent one of those half-bot freaks…They Made my skin crawl more than any Aberrant could ever.

I opened the door, revealing a tall figure that was more machine than person; a sharp featured weasel looking sort of guy. Thompson's left eye glowed an eerie blue, while his right arm, entirely cybernetic, whirred softly as he gestured past me toward the mindless creature.

"I believe you have one of our assets, Detective..." He paused, his cybernetic eye scanning me for a moment and then blinking artificially—almost as if more calculated to put me at ease than for any use.

I puffed my chest and met his outstretched hand in a death grip handshake. "Pew. Sebastian Pew." I let go just before he could return the hold.

Before he could say some corporate slop, a crash from behind had us all spinning around. The Aberrant, in a feat of desperate strength, had smashed through the apartment's only grime-smeared window and was now scrambling down the fire escape like a wet cat.

"Shit!" Joy exclaimed, already moving. "He's loose!" Her hair bounced as she dove through the escape herself, darting a quick shadow as the daylight blasted in from the exposed window.

We burst out of the apartment, Thompson's mechanical legs allowing him to keep pace easily as I struggled behind them both down the fire escape. As we hit the streets, the true scale of our problem became apparent. New Heaven, usually so orderly and controlled, was descending into chaos as we stumbled into some sort of stupid parade I did not know we were having today.

Citizens scattered in terror as the Aberrant bounded down the street, his newly regenerated limbs now flailing wildly as it clumsily fell and left trails of blood from injuries it quickly healed.

"This is your fault, Thompson!" I shouted and I struggled to keep up behind him. "If Armistead Inc. had better control-"

"Save your breath for running, Detective," Thompson cut me off, his voice unnervingly calm. "Your antiquated methods clearly failed to contain him...our NerChip gave all data stating it was deceased already."

Joy, sprinting alongside us, couldn't resist chiming in as her metal tipped boots stomped thundingly in front of us both. "Maybe if the Alliance actually did their job instead of just posing for photos with the president--"

"Enough!" I barked back, annoyed with the amount of energy the Aberrant seamed to have despite being a complete lunatic without sentience. "We need to focus on containment before-"

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

A sudden hush fell over the street. The Aberrant, cornered at an intersection, cowered as a shadow fell over him. I looked up to see a familiar figure descending from the sky–

Titan, in his green and lilac suit, touched down with grace that made his 6'4" frame almost ridiculous in actual costume. The air around him seemed to fold over itself, a showy display to his gravitational powers that made light work of any real threat. Why the hell was he here?

"I believe you gentlemen, and beautiful lady, could use some assistance," Titan articulated with a puffed chest, his voice carrying easily over the commotion as some citizens cheered but we're balanced by loud booing. I was never a fan of heroes…but I had to admit, Titan was one of the good guys.

Joy tucked her chin, breathing heavily but standing completely straight as she pulled her cuffs out. "We had this under control," she muttered with a shake of her head that went ignored.

Thompson stepped forward, his cybernetic eye whirring as it focused on Titan. "This is an Armistead matter. Your jurisdiction-"

"My jurisdiction," Titan interrupted smoothly, "extends to protecting the citizens of New Heaven. Which, I believe, is what I'm basically doing."

Great…

As they argued, I found my attention drawn away from the scene. Something... no, someone was watching us from the shadows of a nearby shaded penthouse rooftop; the kind that is left abandoned seasonally by the non vacationing billionaires that came to the city.

I squinted, trying to make out details in the gloom and sound of argument. A glint caught my eye-- a single, gleaming pink eye staring back at me. My blood ran arctic as I remembered the mismatched eyes we'd found in the apartment staring unendingly into the porcelain.

The figure melted back into the shadows, leaving me with a growing sense of unease. Titan and Thompson's argument faded into background noise, my focus only clear on the barely visible vibrance.

Chapter 2: Come Back Soon…

The orange neon sign of "Grind & Shine" flickered weakly as we pushed through the coffee shop's slanted glass door only a few blocks away from that shitty apartment.

The place was a relic, all chrome and red vinyl, stubbornly clinging to an aesthetic that had gone out of style decades before the Aberrants emerged that really drew a crowd of older folks and humanist. they had one of the best coffee in town though, and right now, that's all I cared about–not open air racism or talks of the “good old days”.

"Two black coffees and a slice of that cardboard pie I overpay for," I grunted at the bored-looking waitress, Cindy, I think. She was a tall red head, always scowling and then pretending to be happy the second a tip gets mentioned…just like my ex.

Joy slid into the scratchy leather booth across from me, her fingers already dancing across her phone's cracked screen with more incessant clacking.

Great.

"Make that two slices," Joy chimed in almost songfully, not looking up from whatever had her so wrapped up in her phone. "And none of that synth-cream crap from Armi-Corp."

As the waitress shuffled away without saying anything, I leaned back, my eyes drawn to the holo-screen mounted in the corner. Titan's green and lilac suit filled the frame entirely, his perfect white teeth gleaming as he waved to the cameras like a used car salesman. The big red, white, and blue captions at the bottom read: "ROGUE ABERRANT APPREHENDED - TITAN SAVES THE DAY AGAIN."

I snorted audibly. "Saves the day, my ass. We did all the literal legwork...not to mention saved that guy.”

Joy finally looked up from her phone, her brown eyes narrowing slightly as the freckles in her face made it almost seem darkened. "Speaking of legwork, you want to tell me what the hell you were thinking back there? Bringing that thing back to life?" Her slitted eyebrow twitched upward.

I felt my jaw tighten as I moved my lips slightly in response. "That 'thing' was a person once, Joy. Maybe it still is, somewhere in there…We don't know."

"Oh, spare me the sappy christmas bullshit– you sound like the news." Joy scoffed, her manicured white nails tapping an impatient rhythm on the table now instead of on her phone. "You saw what it did to that apartment. You heard it screeching like a banshee. Whatever humanity it had is long gone, and now it's going to spend the rest of its miserable existence in some Aberrant zoo, all because you couldn't leave well enough alone."

The waitress returned with our coffee and cherry pie. I took a long sip, letting the bitter liquid burn away the retort on my tongue I wanted to scathe her with. When I finally spoke, I kept my voice low, more measured than my last partner. "Life is sacred, Joy. Even theirs. Even if they're not... people anymore." I paused, the image of the pink-eyed stranger flashing in my mind. "Besides, it was our only lead. Now we've got nothing."

Joy stabbed her fork into the pie, the prongs screeching against the plate and causing a young couple to stare blankly at us. "We've got a mess of paperwork and a pissed-off Armistead exec breathing down our necks. That's what we've got…Chief is gonna kill us."

My mind drifted back to the apartment, to the Aberrant's wide, terrified eye as it franticly screamed "Mama" at Joy. There was something there, some connection I was missing. I absentmindedly rubbed my temple, trying to massage the pieces into place with my tired hands just like my father had when I was a kid. "It recognized you, Joy. Or thought it did. That has to mean something." I rattled off.

Joy's fork clattered to the table with a small thud. "It means it was out of its mind. End of story." She leaned forward, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper as the heat between us increased. "Look, I get it. You've got this whole tortured detective thing going on since your partner got incinerated or whatever. But we're not here to save souls, Pew. We're here to close cases. And right now, this case is anything but closed. No wonder they sent me here from L.A."

I nodded begrudgingly, my eyes drifting back to the holo-screen at the end of the table due to not having much interest in argument. Titan was gone now, replaced by a nervous-looking anchor reporting on increased Aberrant activity in the industrial sector of the slums.

Suddenly, a name clicked into place in my mind. "Rusty Dick," I snapped my fingers as I stated it dryly.

Joy blinked her large eyes. "Come again?"

"R.D.," I repeated, louder this time remembering our presence among civilians. "Street dealer, works out of an old scrapyard in the industrial sector. Has a reputation for making other Aberrants disappear."

A slow smile spread across Joy's freckled face, the first genuine one I'd seen in the two weeks I'd known her. "Now that's more like it, ‘partner pew’. You think this Rusty D. might've been our victims supplier? Let's get him cuffed and in the station."

I drained the last of my coffee, already reaching for my coat that was hanging lazily behind me. "Only one way to find out. You done with that pie?"

Joy glanced down at her barely-touched slice. "Eh, it tastes like sweetened assdripping anyway." She slid out of the booth, tossing a few dollars on the table.

As we stepped out into the brightly lit streets of New Heaven, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were still being watched. I glanced up at the quad towering skyscrapers that Armistead and their competing companies erected just after Titan started The Alliance, gleaming surfaces reflecting a beautiful red dance of lights below. Somewhere up there, I felt as if I knew, a pink eye was watching. Waiting.

—------------------------------

Joy's car hummed to life as we pulled away from the curb, the neon signs of downtown New Heaven reflecting off its sleek gray surface beautifully. I settled into the passenger seat, my eyes scanning the streets as we moved further from the stately city center.

"Take a left at the next intersection," I said, nodding towards a faded sign pointing to the industrial sector's only inlet. "We're heading to Rusty's place directly, no need to hide who we are."

Joy's hands tightened on the wheel slightly. "You sure about this, Pew? That area's not exactly patrol-friendly i've heard."

I grunted in response, my attention caught by the changing landscape outside. As we left the gleaming towers and monographic billboards behind, the city's pretty facade began to crack after only a few blocks. The buildings grew shorter, older, their walls caked with graffiti instead of advertisements and completely run to shit.

And the people... well, they weren't all people anymore.

A group of Aberrants huddled around a burning trash can, their forms twisted and Inhuman. One had skin like cracked glass, another sported a pair of stunted wings that were covered in bloody bandages. They watched our car passed with wary eyes that had a very dim glow like the apartment dweller.

"fuck," Joy articulated under her breath, her face remaining stoney. "I knew it was bad out here, but this..."

I nodded again, not knowing how much of the city she had seen in training. "Welcome to the real New Heaven, ‘partner’." A facade of a smile on my face.

As we delved deeper into the twisting industrial slums, the ratio of humans to Aberrants shifted dramatically in almost an instant. For every normal face we saw, there were three or four marked by the telltale signs of the change. Some were subtle– a rail thin man with slightly too-long fingers, a woman whose skin reflected light like a cat eye. Others were impossible to miss, their bodies warped beyond recognition much like the duo earlier.

We turned a corner and came upon a grim scene. A group of Aberrants were gathered around a large pyre, the choking smell of burning flesh filling the air unmistakably from the car's crisp AC. I could make out the misshapen forms of bodies in the flames… ferals, most likely. What caught my eye the most was the sight of a mother; dressed in tattered black clothing and covered in large boils tossing a small wooden crate taped to mimic a coffin around an infants size. Her sobs were not heard among the wailing that came past the glass, only her haunted gaze as she made eye contact with me–almost like she was unable to face the death head on.

It was truly a sad sight. "They're burning their own," I said softly, more to myself than to Joy as this was a new development; normally Armistead Inc. handled the ferals.

Joy's light brown face was pale, her knuckles white on the steering wheel. "This is insane. Where's Titan in all this? Where's the great protector of New Heaven now? This kind of shit would create a media storm in Los Angeles."

I shook my head, watching as a procession of Aberrants carried another body towards the fire and dumping it with a large plume of fire escaping. "You're not seeing the big picture, Joy. With all the worldwide sanctions, it's a miracle Titan can operate at all. Adding new heroes to the roster? That's damn near impossible these days. I'm guessing Armistead Inc. Is not as big on the west coast."

"So what, we just let this happen? They could decide to riot at any second." Joy's voice was tight with anger and something else–fear, maybe. Or guilt I searched her features but she was good at hiding her emotion despite her words.

"We do our job," I replied, my tone harsher than I intended. "We solve our case. One step at a time." I pointed ahead to a rusted gate barely hanging on its hinges. "Pull in there. That's Rusty's place."

The car settled onto the cracked pavement of what used to be a scrapyard. Piles of twisted metal and discarded tech from before the tech boom formed a maze around us, casting long shadows in the fading daylight that looked like orange gargantuan snakes.

"Ladies first," I chuckled to Joy as we stepped out of the car. "Oh and–Rusty's not exactly the welcoming type."

We picked our way through the debris, the silence broken only by the crunch of gravel under our feet and the distant sound of the burning pyre's mourning crowd; soft outcries of mostly older women made it most difficult to ignore. As we rounded a particularly large pile of scrap, a figure emerged from the shadows of the backlot.

Rusty Dick lived up to his name. His skin had a metallic sheen to it that was heavily oxidized, and his fingers ended in sharp, rusted points only about a few inches. His eyes puffed out as he recognized me, then narrowed to slits in anger.

"Mother fucker! if it ain't Detective Spew," he growled like a beaten mutt, his voice grating as metal on metal. "Thought I told you to stay the hell away from my operation–Imma bonafide Armi’ Corp. man now.”

I held up my hands, trying to look non-threatening while showing my holstered gun. "Easy, Rusty. We're not here to cause trouble. Just need some information."

Rusty's laugh was like nails on a chalkboard as it shot out. "Information? Last time you came sniffing around for 'information', I ended up with half my clients scared off and a visit from the Armistead goons in the first place. So why don't you turn that fancy car around and float on out of here like the princesses you are?"

Joy stepped forward, her hand resting casually near her holster. "Listen, AssHat. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Your choice."

I shot Joy a warning look. Antagonizing Rusty wasn't going to get us anywhere. "Look, Rusty," I said, keeping my voice calm, "I know our last... interaction didn't go smoothly. But this is different. We're looking into a death. Aberrant, healing factor, possible drug connection. Ring any bells? A yellow eyed lesser."

Rusty's expression shifted, curiosity warring with suspicion. "Maybe it does, maybe it doesn't. What's in it for me?"

I glanced at Joy, then back to Rusty. "How about a blind eye for the next time? You help us out, Might even throw in a word to Armistead and you can get his swanky apartment downtown, how bout that? "

Rusty considered this, his metallic fingers tapping against his leg with a rhythmic clink. A slight breeze brought my nose hints of soot and cherries oddly enough. "Alright, Spew. You've got my attention. But not out here." He jerked his head towards a ramshackle structure made out of a C-unit behind him. "Inside. And your trigger-happy partner stays out here in case some ferals wander in–you and the Armi boys have been shit at your job lately."

Joy opened her mouth to protest, but I cut her off with a flare of my now cigarette pinching hand. "Deal. Joy, keep an eye on things out here– You'll be fine."

As I followed Rusty into his makeshift office, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were being watched like before. I glanced back, scanning the piles of scrap and shadows. For a moment, I thought I saw a glint of pink in the darkness. But when I looked again, it was gone and probably only my running mind.

Inside, Rusty's "office" was a cluttered mess of salvaged tech and chemical equipment. The air was thick with stank of something I couldn't quite identify but knew I hated immediately. Rusty finally settled into a creaking chair behind a desk made from an old car hood.

"So, detective," he said, steepling his pointed fingers like some sort of CEO and clanking them together. "Tell me about this dead Aberrant of yours."

I leaned against the wall, trying to look casual despite the unease crawling up my spine. "Male, mid-thirties, healing factor. Found him with his arms ripped off and shoved into his chest cavity. Probably annoying and bitter by how crappy he left that pig pen."

Rusty's metallic eyebrows rose. "Nasty business, that. Yeah, I might know something. Had a client matching that description. Called himself Christian. Always paid in cash, never caused trouble. Was looking for something to, uh, enhance his abilities."

"Enhance?" I prodded. "You mean like boosting his healing factor?" That was, interesting. Haven't heard of that one.

Rusty shrugged, a grating sound of metal on metal shot out again that made me scrunch my face momentarily. "Maybe. Or maybe he was looking for something else entirely. You'd be surprised what some of these Aberrants want. Power ain't always about healing or strength, detective...not for Lessers like me anyway."

I filed that away for later consideration. "When was the last time you saw him?"

"Bout a week ago," Rusty replied, his eyes narrowing as he thought back with a deep backward lean that sent dust into the musty air. "Yeah, must've been last Tuesday. He seemed... off. Jumpy. Kept looking over his shoulder like he thought someone was following him."

A chill ran down my spine as I remembered the pink-eyed figure I'd seen earlier. "Did he say anything about being followed? Or mention any names?"

Rusty shook his head. "Nah, he didn't say much. But..." he hesitated, glancing towards the door as if checking for eavesdroppers. "He did ask about something weird. Wanted to know if I'd ever heard of something called 'Ascension’."

The name meant nothing to me, but I made a mental note to look into it later. "And had you?"

"First I'd heard of it," Rusty said with another metallic shrug. "Told him as much. He seemed pretty disappointed. That was the last I saw of him."

I nodded, pushing off from the sheetmetal dirty wall that stained my coat chalky red. "Alright, Rusty. Thanks for the info. You've been more help than you know."

As I turned to leave, Rusty called out, "Hey, detective. Word of advice? Whatever our dead friend was mixed up in, it's big. Dangerous. You might want to consider letting sleeping dogs lie, if you catch my drift...Christian was pretty well connected–"

I paused at the door, looking back at him. "Thanks for the concern, Rusty. Maybe you should do the same."

Outside, I found Joy pacing nervously by the car. She relaxed visibly when she saw me. "About time. What'd you find out?"

As we climbed back into the car, I filled her in on what Rusty had told me. Joy listened intently, her brow furrowing as I mentioned whatever Ascension had been. "Never heard of it," she said as we pulled out of the scrapyard. "Sounds ominous, though."

I nodded, my mind racing with possibile connections I didn't even know. "Yeah, it does. And I've got a feeling it's got something to do with all the ferals around here."

As we drove back towards the city center, leaving the industrial slums behind, I couldn't help the gnawing feeling that we'd just stepped into something much bigger, and much more dangerous, than a simple murder case of some Aberrant or high level stadium employee. The neon lights of New Heaven loomed ahead, their cheerful glow at odds with the darkness we'd just witnessed outside its shine. Somewhere in this city, answers were waiting.

Ascension…