The chaos consuming downtown San Diego continued spreading through the night like a living storm, and Ryan Cruz moved through the smoke-filled avenue with weary determination while emergency lights reflected across broken windows and abandoned vehicles. His uniform carried fresh scratches from the battle, and dried blood stained one sleeve where a ghoul had nearly reached him earlier. Every muscle in his body protested with exhaustion, yet responsibility remained heavier than pain. Too many innocent people still depended upon someone refusing to surrender.
