Actors - L'appel Du Vide -

"The call isn't about the fall," Jax whispered, her eyes reflecting the flickering blue of a billboard across the street. "It's about the fact that you could . It’s the only time you actually feel the weight of being alive—right when you're contemplating losing it."

She stepped closer, the clicking of her heels a sharp counterpoint to the synth-line in his head. She reached out and pulled one of the earbuds from his ear. The sound of the city rushed back in—the sirens, the distant shouts, the hiss of tires on wet asphalt. ACTORS - L'appel Du Vide

"Somewhere loud," he replied, handing her the other earbud. "Somewhere the void can't hear itself think." "The call isn't about the fall," Jax whispered,

Elias didn't turn. He knew the voice. It belonged to Jax, a woman who looked like she’d been carved out of shadows and cigarette smoke. She was leaning against the brickwork, her leather jacket shimmering with moisture. "Just listening to the music," Elias lied. She reached out and pulled one of the earbuds from his ear

In his ears, the driving, mechanical pulse of a synthesizer drowned out the wind. It was a rhythm he knew by heart—the sound of 1982 trapped in a digital ghost. He looked down.

The city of Ouroboros never slept; it only vibrated in a low, hum of neon and rain. Elias stood on the rusted fire escape of the 42nd floor, the soles of his boots gripping the wet metal. Below, the traffic was a river of blurred red and white lights, a circuit board powering a machine that didn’t care if he was part of it or not.