The silence was not peace. It was a vacuum.
One week after the Architect's defeat or its transformation, no one was quite sure what to call it the city was a patient in critical condition. The psychic storm had passed, but the aftermath was a landscape of devastation, both physical and psychological. The riots were over. The feral Avatars were dust. But the quiet that remained was heavy, thick with the ghosts of what had been lost.
Arden's team gathered in the ruins of the substation, their first real home, now a tomb of busted consoles and shattered screens. The war was over. But they were soldiers without an enemy, and the silence was a heavier burden than any battle.
