Chapter 230: COLLAPSE

The world lurched as the shadows spat them out—Alberto and Circe tumbling onto the cracked asphalt like two drunkards ejected from a bar fight.

The ground trembled beneath them, a low, grinding groan as the Black Site's guts caved in deep below. Dust plumed into the predawn sky.

Circe rolled onto her back, coughing up what felt like half her lung capacity. "Fuck," she wheezed, spitting blood. "I hate it."

Alberto sat up, wiping grime off his face. His coat was shredded, his knuckles split, and his divine glow flickering like a dying lightbulb. He took one look at the devastation—the collapsed earth, the sirens wailing in the distance—and sighed.

"Ah." He rubbed his jaw. "There goes my SC—my facility—gone."

Circe groaned. "Your facility? That's what you're mourning?"