mcgreavey

The world came back in fragments. First: The hiss of fire, then the sting of smoke in her lungs, and then pain, sharp and bright, lancing through her ribs like broken glass. Lyra Vale forced her eyes open. The sky above her wasn’t a sky at all. It was a fractured jagged dome of steel and holograms, flickering with corporate ads that shimmered against the night. Somewhere overhead, a swarm of drones buzzed like angry insects, but the only one that mattered lay ruins beside her, its metal shell twisted and burning.
Lyra had woken in a foreign land without a memory of who she is or where she had come from.