The silence didn't last long.
A low, resonant hum rolled through the wrecked plaza, nothing like the usual sterile chime of a system notification. This one felt deeper, almost vibrating straight through their bones rather than simply appearing in front of their eyes.
Jin flinched at the sound, his chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven breaths as he lay sprawled against the rubble. His fingers still twitched weakly around the staff, every inch of his body reduced to a shredded mess of pain and exhaustion.
Then the system's voice arrived, and it didn't sound detached the way it usually did. It sounded almost amused, like something watching a show it hadn't expected to enjoy this much.
[Well. That was not supposed to happen.]
Joon groaned, rolling onto his back like a dead fish. "Why," he wheezed, "does that sound bad."
