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Another volley of fire hit her—red pulses of heat and blue streaks of electricity. She walked through the storm, each hit ringing out like a hammer on an anvil. She wasn't just surviving; she was reflecting. The city's attempts to destroy her were only proving how indestructible she had become.

The Enforcer raised his rifle. A beam of concentrated sound—a sonic bullet meant to shatter bone—erupted from the barrel. It struck her square in the chest. The air rippled with the impact, and the pavement beneath her cracked. But Elara didn't fall. david_guetta_titanium_ft_sia_lyrics

The city was a machine of cold glass and grinding gears, and Elara was the grit that it tried to spit out. They called them "The Hollowed"—those whose spirits had been deemed inefficient for the Great Cog. The Enforcers, draped in chrome and carrying rhythmic pulse-rifles, tracked her through the neon-slicked alleys. Another volley of fire hit her—red pulses of

"You shout it out," Elara whispered to herself, her voice a raspy tether to her fading courage. "But I can't hear a word you say." The city's attempts to destroy her were only

A faint, metallic shimmer rippled across her skin. The energy of the blast didn't tear through her; it washed over her like water against a cliffside. She stood taller, her skin glowing with a dull, silver luster.

"I’m talking loud," she said, her voice rising above the hum of the city. "Not saying much."