Greyhaven slept uneasily.The Cathedral’s destruction had sent ripples through the entire magical network — wards flickered, creatures hid, and whispers filled every alleyway. Even the mundane city above felt colder, like its shadow had grown teeth.Rick kept his hood low as they crossed the rain-slicked rooftops. Lira and Marrek moved beside him, silent. None of them spoke about the fight in the Cathedral. None of them dared to.They reached a clock tower near the old quarter — one that hadn’t ticked in a century.Lira stopped before the door. “Once we go in, there’s no leaving until they dismiss us.”Rick looked up at the frozen hands of the clock. “Who are they exactly?”“The Silent Conclave,” she said. “Thirteen seats. One for each faction that survived the first war — humans, fae, vampires, wolves, and the others that pretend they don’t exist anymore.”Marrek snorted. “You forgot the murderers in suits.”“Those are the Archivists,” Lira muttered. “Try not to insult anyone this ti

Rick had seen illusions before — tricks of the Veil, memory fragments, even temporal echoes.But this… this felt real.The air was clean, the city whole, the distant hum of life perfectly ordinary.Too ordinary.He walked to the window, staring down at the street below. People moved normally — cars rolled past, vendors shouted — yet something in their rhythm was off. Every motion seemed to repeat, like a scene running on a loop that was just slightly out of sync.Lira stood behind him, watching silently. “This isn’t our world.”Rick turned. “No. But it’s wearing our skin.”He walked over to the calendar again: March 17, 2012.The day before the Cathedral fire — the day before everything had changed.Rick’s chest tightened. Why this day?Before he could answer that question himself, a knock echoed from the door.Lira tensed instantly, drawing her dagger.Rick motioned for silence.The knock came again — polite, steady, like whoever was outside already knew them.He opened the door.Sta

The floor beneath them pulsed like a heartbeat.Rick could feel it — slow, deliberate, steady thumps that echoed through the ground and into his ribs. The tunnel walls shimmered with faint blue veins, glowing in rhythm.Lira pressed her hand to the stone. “It’s alive,” she whispered. “The whole damn city.”Rick crouched beside her. “It’s not alive. It’s feeding.”He brushed away some dust and revealed more runes carved deep into the rock — names. Dozens of them. “These are people,” he said softly. “Every name... someone the city has taken.”They both fell silent. The tunnel stretched ahead, disappearing into faint fog. From far away came the sound of dripping — but when they listened closer, the droplets weren’t water.They were blood.Lira stood up, scanning the dark ahead. “If this is your reflection’s world, then he built it to remember pain.”Rick nodded grimly. “He’s feeding it what he lost.”As they started forward, the ground trembled again. Rick could feel the Echo pulsing fai

The silence after the Core’s pulse was suffocating.Rick’s heartbeat echoed in his ears like a drum — steady, unnatural, too loud. The air felt heavier, as if the entire cavern was waiting to exhale.Lira took a cautious step forward. “Rick… are you okay?”He nodded slowly, even though his mind screamed otherwise. “Yeah. I’m fine.”It was a lie. The moment he’d touched the Core, something had followed him back.The Archivist’s pale eyes reflected the dim light. “He feels it already,” he murmured. “The burden waking.”Rick looked up sharply. “What do you mean, burden?”“You carry guilt, Mercer,” the Archivist said calmly. “Enough to shape monsters.”Before Rick could respond, the cavern floor rippled. Shadows began to pour from the cracks — slow at first, then faster, twisting together into vaguely human shapes. Each one flickered with faint silver light, as if pieces of the Veil had bled into them.Lira drew her dagger. “Rick, we’ve got company.”Rick’s voice was barely a whisper. “No

The world didn’t shatter all at once.It peeled.Like two pages glued together for too long, reality tore itself apart one heartbeat at a time.Rick fell to his knees as the streets of Greyhaven twisted upward, meeting the mirrored spires above. Cars floated like paper. Shadows bled into light. Screams came from both sides of the Veil, overlapping until it was impossible to tell which belonged to the living and which to the reflection.Lira crouched beside him, shouting through the chaos. “Rick! Focus! If you lose your center now—”“I know!” His voice cracked with strain. “I can feel him — he’s trying to pull me in!”Across the collapsing street, Mirror-Rick stood calm at the heart of the storm. Every gust of wind bent around him like he commanded the air itself.His eyes glowed with silver fire.“You can’t hold both worlds together,” Mirror-Rick called out. “Let go, and it will stop hurting.”Rick pushed to his feet, every muscle screaming. “Not if it means you win.”“This isn’t abou