The wind changed first.Jake felt it before he saw anything—the sudden drop in temperature, the way the air sharpened as if the atmosphere itself were bracing for impact. The lights in the safehouse flickered once, twice, then steadied with an uneasy hum. Outside, the sky churned with slow-moving darkness, a mass of shadow rolling across the clouds like ink spreading through water.Kael sat on the couch, still pale but breathing more evenly. His shirt clung to his back from sweat, and his hair stuck to his forehead. But his eyes were clearer now, focused, even with the echo of fear lingering beneath the surface.Jake knelt in front of him, hands on his knees, steady and grounding. “Tell me exactly how you feel.”Kael exhaled, shaky at first, then steadier. “Like something let go,” he said. “But not peacefully. More like it wanted to take a piece of me with it.”Lyra stood by the window, hands pressed to the cold glass. “It probably did.”Jake didn’t look away from Kael. “Can you stand

The morning light slid through the blinds in pale stripes, falling across the polished floor of the medical wing. Jake stood at the coffee machine near the end of the hallway, waiting for it to finish its slow drip, when Lyra appeared beside him with a tablet tucked under her arm and an expression that meant news, and not the kind that lets you breathe easier.He didn’t look up at first. “Tell me it’s breakfast options.”Lyra shook her head. “I wish. We’ve got a visitor.”Jake finally lifted his gaze. “A visitor?”“A woman asking for you specifically,” Lyra said. “She signed in as Mira Hale.”Jake froze.Lyra noticed it instantly. “You know her.”His jaw worked once before he answered. “Yeah. A long time ago.”“Long enough for concern or long enough for danger?”Jake didn’t answer right away. He stared at the coffee dripping steadily into the paper cup, each dark drop landing with the softest thud.“Both,” he said finally.Lyra straightened. “She wants to talk to you alone.”“Of cours

The city had shifted under the fading sunlight, the industrial district glowing faintly with the amber reflection of broken windows and scorched metal. Jake Sullivan moved through the streets with a slow, deliberate pace, his mind replaying the events of the day. Kael had survived the first wave of the shadow’s probing, but Jake knew better than to assume the danger was over. It never was.Lyra hovered beside him in silence, drones flitting above and around like protective sparks of light. “The western sectors are calm for now,” she said. “But there are disturbances in the eastern corridors. Could be residual energy signatures—or reconnaissance from the shadow itself.”Jake didn’t answer immediately. His gaze swept the fractured skyline, noting collapsed rooftops and faint smoke trails. “We can’t wait,” he said finally. “We reinforce Kael, yes. But we also need to ensure the city doesn’t weaken under the shadow’s probing. It learns from hesitation.”Lyra’s fingers hovered over her con

The southern sector smelled of burnt metal and wet concrete, a lingering residue from fires that had raged days before. Jake Sullivan moved carefully through the fractured streets, boots crunching on glass and twisted rebar. Every sense was attuned, every instinct alert. Even without visible movement, he felt the city’s pulse—the subtle tremors of distant footsteps, the faint hum of residual energy, the nervous breaths of civilians who had begun to trust him but were not yet fully anchored.Kael walked beside him, silent and controlled, eyes sweeping rooftops and alleyways. Mira followed slightly behind, her device humming softly, projecting light pulses that reinforced Kael’s mental anchors while monitoring for unseen energy signatures.Jake’s voice cut through the silence, calm but firm. “The shadow’s testing patience now. It wants to see how far we can stretch before the first fracture. It’s probing weaknesses—small, calculated, psychological. That’s how it learns. That’s how it ma

The city was quiet in the early hours, but the calm was deceptive. Shadows stretched along the fractured streets, and the faint hum of residual energy from past clashes reverberated through the concrete skeletons of the industrial district. Jake Sullivan moved through the rubble-strewn avenues with measured steps, every motion deliberate. He had trained himself to read the pulse of the city—the subtle vibrations that signaled movement, fear, hope, and hesitation.Kael flanked him, silent and precise, his gaze constantly scanning rooftops, collapsed walkways, and the shadows cast by skeletal towers. Mira hovered above, her device projecting soft light cues that danced along the walls and floors, revealing hidden energy patterns and projecting phantom patrols to mislead any operatives lurking nearby.“We have multiple residual signatures to the south,” Mira said quietly. “Not just operatives—civilian movement disrupted in several key sectors. The shadow is testing the anchors, looking f