"Valor wanted me to sell you a dream," she said. "But dreams are passive. You consume them in your sleep. I want to sell you a weapon ."
She held the silence for exactly two beats. Then she unbuttoned the silver coat and let it fall.
Beneath it was nothing she'd shown Valor. A bodysuit of shattered mirror tiles, each shard reflecting a different fragment of the awakening city. It was dangerous—sharp edges that could cut if she moved wrong. It was also a direct violation of her contract, which specified no alterations to the garments .