Rivyn stepped out of his house, his usual stoic expression set in place. The air was crisp, the atmosphere surprisingly quiet for the bustling streets of the 21st-floor residential area. He adjusted the collar of his tunic, his mind wandering to his recent success in the white space against the manticores. Though the battles had been grueling, the satisfaction of improvement filled him with a quiet determination.
However, his moment of reflection was cut short.
An earsplitting boom erupted nearby, the force of the explosion sending debris flying in all directions. Rivyn barely managed to brace himself as a shockwave tore through the street, throwing him back a step. His tunic, sturdy yet flexible, now bore several tears, his skin underneath scratched and bruised. Dust and smoke filled the air, obscuring his view of the source of the attack.
