His mask back on, Dasha walked with measured steps through the decaying veins of the Slums, a world both forgotten and alive in ways most would not notice. His eyes, keen as a predator's yet calculating like a scientist's, scanned his surroundings with the relentless curiosity of a man who dissected everything—ideas, bodies, even the laws of nature.
'Look at these buildings. Everything is patched up. Everything is constantly in repair.'
The Natural Qi here was thick with rot, but after spending a day sucking it up, there was something beneath it. A Qi that wasn't quite death, but transformation—the natural decay of a world abandoned by order.
