Godspeed stood in the ruins where the chase began, six months of nothing stretched behind him like a scar. Every street he'd followed led nowhere. Every witness description faded before he could act on it. The man who destroyed this city moved like smoke, always one step gone when Godspeed arrived. But today, something caught the light wrong. A red fragment wedged between broken concrete, half-buried in rubble he'd searched a dozen times before. Godspeed pulled it free and felt his pulse spike. The armor piece was fresh, edges still sharp, not weathered by six months of rain. He turned it over in his hands, studying the ornate pattern. His rival had been here recently. Not six months ago when the city fell. Recently. Which meant he'd never left at all. The realization sent him racing through the streets at full speed, scanning every shadow with new eyes. He stopped at the old bank three blocks west, the one with the fractured columns and blown-out entrance. The message sprawled across the stone face above the door made his jaw tighten. You will never catch me. But the paint was still wet. Godspeed touched it with one finger and watched the black smear across his skin. His rival wasn't running anymore. He was waiting. And for the first time in six months, Godspeed knew exactly where to look. He pushed through the bank's shattered doorway and found more. Fresh boot prints in the dust. Wrappers from yesterday's food. A sleeping roll still warm to the touch. His rival had been living here, hidden in plain sight while Godspeed chased ghosts across state lines. The fortress he'd built on the city's edge to coordinate his search felt like a monument to his own failure now. But the failure was over. He slipped the crimson armor fragment into his pocket and stepped back outside. The hunt had just begun again, and this time his rival had nowhere left to run.