The blood-red sky didn't just hang overhead; it pulsed like an open wound, bathing the ruins of Lyra in a sickly, crimson light that made every shadow look like a pool of drying gore. Jeremy stood at the edge of the shattered bunker, his hand still white-knuckled around Elena’s. The ground beneath them wasn’t just shaking; it was vibrating with a deep, subsonic frequency that made Jeremy’s teeth feel loose in his gums.His eyes darted to the top left of his vision, searching for the familiar blue flicker of the status bar. He needed to see his HP. He needed to know his System points. He needed the comforting, clinical certainty of a digital prompt telling him what the hell to do next.But there was nothing.The void where the System interface used to be felt like a fresh amputation. It was a terrifying 'phantom limb' sensation—his brain kept trying to scroll through a menu that no longer existed, reaching for a weapon wheel that had vanis