Damien stepped out of the airport, the rhythmic click of his shoes momentarily blending into the city's steady hum—honking cars, distant conversations, and the ceaseless buzz of movement—but it all washed over him like a distant echo.
He glanced upward.
Skyscrapers reached into the sky, their glass and steel façades glinting under the midday sun. The streets were chaotic—cars were jammed bumper to bumper, and pedestrians darted through the frenzy, all seemingly pursuing something elusive.
Yet, to him, it was all inconsequential.
'Main city, huh?' A faint smirk tugged at the corners of Damien's lips as his gaze swept over the scene. Amid all this hustle and bustle, he found amusement; to him, it was merely noise.
'Are there any major plot points activated?' His thoughts shifted. Without pausing, he reached out to his system. His voice, cool and detached, fell from his lips as if it were an afterthought.
[No. There's no plot triggered yet.]
