The following evening, Zen stood in the center of the newly restored penthouse.
Nyx's construction drones had worked tirelessly through the night, replacing the blasted concrete and shattered windows with seamless, high-strength smart-glass and sleek metallic paneling.
The scent of ozone and smoke was completely gone, replaced by the faint, sterile hum of top-tier servers.
In the middle of the pristine room, Zen was securing the straps of his familiar, matte-black tactical suit.
"We need a gift," Zen announced, adjusting the clasps on his forearm guards. "Aurelia is the Empress. Walking into the Zenith Gala empty-handed is a political insult she will definitely use against me. I need high-grade materials to craft a proper tribute, so I am hitting a Mid-Tier D-Rank Fracture Zone in the lower sectors tonight."
He looked up. "Maya, you are coming with me."
Instantly, the temperature in the room dropped.
