Chapter 5 · free to read
The crash hadn't burned my hearing out. It had knocked it four octaves down, into a register the league's equipment does not even sample.
Then the room came back. Not the way it used to — lower. Slower. Enormous.
Everything I was good at was written in a language I had stopped being able to read. So I learned to read again, from the alphabet, at seventeen, on a garage floor.
The lower band wasn't empty. It was busy — and it was carrying somebody's orders.
Artwork and narration generated with AI.