The rain hit harder now, like it was trying to catch up. Each drop smacked the concrete with purpose, carving silence into the ruined street.
Jung Min walked with Azari draped over his shoulder, one arm cradling the dormant relic, the other wrapped in her weight. She was light. Too light. Like someone hollowed her out.
He didn't stop walking.
Not when sirens wailed in the distance.
Not when the streetlights flickered like nervous eyes.
Not when a holy drone passed overhead and didn't see him.
Not yet. Too soon. Too loud. Too much heat. Need a shadow deeper than theirs.
He ducked into a parking garage three levels down, set her against a rusted vending machine, and took off his coat to lay over her. His hands shook once, briefly, before he lit a cigarette to stop them.
"You okay?" he asked without looking.
A weak cough. "No."
"Good. Means you're still human."
She smiled. Barely.
"Did I do that?"
"You did more than that," he muttered. "You glitched time, knocked a Saint unconscious, and made a relic afraid to glow."
Azari leaned her head back. "I don't remember all of it."
"You're lucky."
He turned to the relic. It rested against a collapsed signpost, still quiet, no longer humming, no longer whispering.
But it was watching. Even with no eyes.
What the fuck are you?
Sword of God? Final weapon? A failed prototype He threw away?
He crouched and ran a hand across the etched name again.
Deus Machina. Machine of God.
Or maybe just a mistake He never fixed.
Azari stirred. "Why did you help me?"
He exhaled smoke.
"Because if I didn't, someone else would've killed you in the name of something holy."
"That's not a reason."
"It is for me."
The garage went quiet again.
Just drips. Echoes. The faint hum of the city overhead.
Azari shivered under his coat. Her voice came again, quieter.
"I saw your memories."
Jung Min's jaw tensed.
"You weren't supposed to."
"They weren't good."
"No shit."
She leaned toward him.
"There was a girl in a red dress. She smiled at you."
Jung Min didn't move.
"I shot the man who made her stop."
"Did it help?"
"No."
A long silence stretched between them.
Finally, she asked, "What now?"
Jung Min looked out toward the sliver of city sky above.
"They'll send more."
"How many?"
"All of them."
He stood up and reloaded his gun, slow, deliberate. The sound echoed.
"We're not running anymore," he said. "Next one that shows up…"
He snapped the cylinder shut.
"…we bury."
Azari nodded. "Good."
Her eyes were clear again. Not glowing.
But her hands wouldn't stop shaking.
Neither would his.