Elias did not move. The woman in the doorway watched him with pale eyes, her expression unreadable. The pocket watch in her hand gleamed, its hands frozen. The threads around her were unlike anything he had seen. They did not twist or break. They curved toward her, as if she were a weight pressing into the fabric of reality. “Who are you?” he repeated. His voice sounded too loud in the quiet room. She took a step forward. “I told you. Seraphine Vale.” “How did you get in?” “The door was unlocked.” She tilted her head. “And I am very good at not being seen.” Elias’s hands curled into fists at his sides. “What do you want?” Seraphine did not answer immediately. She moved past him, into the room, her dark coat brushing the edge of his desk. The threads around her shifted, bending to accommodate her presence. “You’ve been busy,” she said. “The Hollow District. The impossible house. The school hallway.” She turned to face him. “You’ve drawn attention.” “Whose attention?” “Ev

The observatory was locked. Elias stood at the base of the old stone steps, staring up at the domed roof. The building was dark, its windows like empty eyes. The threads around it were strange. They did not pulse like the threads around other buildings. They circled, spiraling inward toward the door, as if the observatory itself was pulling at the fabric of the world. “Are you sure he’s here?” Adrian asked. “He’s always here,” Seraphine said. She produced a small silver key from her coat and slid it into the lock. “The Observatory is his life.” The door swung open. Inside, the air was cool and still. The smell of old paper and dust filled Elias’s lungs. The threads were brighter here, stronger. They ran through the floors and walls like veins, all converging on a single point somewhere below. “He’s not in his office,” Lyra said quietly. “No,” Seraphine agreed. “He’s in the lower levels.” She moved toward a door at the back of the lobby. “Follow me.” They desc

The training room was beneath the safehouse. Elias had not known it existed. Neither had Adrian. Seraphine had revealed it that morning by pressing a hidden latch beneath one of the kitchen cabinets. There had been a soft mechanical click. Then the floor moved. A section of the kitchen slid aside, revealing a narrow stone staircase descending into darkness. Adrian stared down the stairs. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Seraphine glanced at him. “What?” “You had a secret underground training room this entire time?” “Yes.” “And you never mentioned it?” “You never asked.” Adrian stared at her. “How exactly was I supposed to know to ask?” Seraphine turned and started down the stairs. “You’re learning.” Adrian muttered something under his breath and followed. Lyra smiled faintly before following them. Elias came last. The moment his foot touched the first step, he felt the threads. They were everywhere. Thick. Dense. Much stronger than those above. They wrapped a

Seraphine did not explain. She turned and climbed the stairs, her dark coat moving behind her as she disappeared toward the apartment above. Elias and Lyra exchanged a look before following. They found Seraphine standing near the window. The afternoon light poured through the glass, illuminating her silver-white hair. The pocket watch rested in her hand. Its hands were still frozen. It still did not tick. “You shouldn’t have touched it,” she said without turning. Elias stopped behind her. “I didn’t have a choice.” His voice was steady, but his heart was still hammering. “It was like it wanted me to.” “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.” Lyra stepped forward. “What was it? The door?” Seraphine turned. “A thin spot.” She walked toward the table and placed the pocket watch on its surface. “A place where the boundary between our world and something else has worn thin. They appear in places where reality is weak.” She paused. “But they’re not doors. Not really.” Elias

Lyra did not move. The footprints were small. Fresh. They led from the cracked sidewalk into the alley, straight toward the brick wall at the end. And they did not stop. They continued into the wall. Her breath caught. The morning air was cold, and her fingers were beginning to numb around her notebook. She had come to the Hollow District alone because she needed to understand. Because Elias could not be the only one carrying the weight of what was happening. Because the disappearances had been gnawing at her ever since she found those old newspaper articles. And now she was standing in front of a wall that had swallowed someone’s footprints. She pulled out her phone and called Elias. He answered on the second ring. “Lyra? Where are you?” “The Hollow District.” She kept her eyes fixed on the footprints. The longer she stared, the more certain she became. They did not fade at the wall. They simply vanished into it. “I found something. Fresh tracks. They lead into a wall and