Chapter 47

The bathysphere ground against the rusted shoreline of Scrapheap Town, the only patch of Olympus City that wasn’t currently being pulverized by orbital strikes. Jake stepped out onto the sludge-slicked bank, the filters of his mask hissing as they struggled against the thick, acrid air. Above, the sky was a bruised tapestry of orange and charcoal. To the east, Emerald Island was nothing but a silhouette of rising smoke and secondary explosions. He tapped his comms again. Static. He’d...