2025-08-20 23:03:11
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Ch-192
Nathan had been waking the streets for hours, ensuring every fracture of time had been mended. But a subtle unease prickled at the edges of his mind. Something remained—a resonance, faint but unmistakable. It was not Kairo’s direct doing this time. It was older, quieter, but no less dangerous.The city woke, or at least it appeared to. Windows reflected the sun, people bustled along streets, and traffic hummed in orderly cadence. Yet, Nathan noticed the cracks immediately. Signs repeated, lettering warping with a language that made no sense. Street intersections looped impossibly, leading pedestrians in circles. Faces of the crowd flickered for a heartbeat—eyes misaligned, mouths delayed. It was a mirror city, reflecting itself imperfectly, subtly twisting reality around every citizen.Nathan’s boots clicked against pavement as he paused at a corner, observing a young woman approach him. For an instant, her reflection in the shop window ran ahead of her, moving faster than her own bod
Ch-191
The city had never felt heavier. Even the neon signs seemed reluctant to burn, flickering in stuttering rhythms, as though they, too, were caught between seconds. Nathan walked the streets alone, senses alert. Time here moved oddly—moments stretched and contracted without warning. He saw a man stumble past him, then replay the stumble twice more before landing on his feet, as if trapped in a loop. A child laughed, but the sound came before her mouth even opened.It was subtle at first. A misaligned clock here, a delayed train there. Then the full weight of it hit: the streets themselves were alive with dissonance, each heartbeat mismatched with the next, each breath drawn at a slightly different pace than the air around it. Nathan instinctively slowed, letting his internal rhythm become the anchor.“This is his doing,” he muttered, eyes scanning the shadowed alleyways and warped windows. “Kairo must have found a way to fragment time itself.”The distortion had a scent—metallic, ozone-
Ch-190
The fog of early evening curled through the narrow streets like liquid smoke. Nathan felt it first as a chill along his spine, subtle but insistent, a whisper that didn’t belong to the wind. The city was quiet, unnaturally so. Windows reflected dim amber light, but inside, nothing stirred. He could feel a pulse beneath the cobblestones, slow and deliberate, as if the ground itself was breathing secrets.He had come at the request of Miko, who had intercepted a signal of unnatural origin: a being siphoning memories from anyone who approached a certain district. The signs were subtle—empty streets, stores left as if abandoned in haste, and witnesses who could not recall yesterday, or even their own names.Nathan’s boots echoed against the stones as he entered an alley lined with stacked crates. Shadows clung to the edges of the buildings, but they were wrong—too fluid, bending in ways that defied physics. The air shimmered faintly, like heat rising off a desert road, but colder. He focu
Ch-189
Nathan did not pause as he stepped onto the cobblestone streets beyond the ballroom. The city air was thick with fog, curling around lampposts like smoke from a funeral pyre. The ash from the crown had not entirely left him; it clung to the edges of his coat and boots, a mark of the night’s reckoning. Each step carried the weight of his patience—and the promise of a counterstrike yet unseen.The shadows that had answered the call in the ballroom lingered in his mind’s eye. They whispered of corrupted wills, of arrogance, and of those who underestimated power born not from dominance but restraint. The city itself seemed to pulse, every alley and rooftop sensitized to the echo of that humiliation. Nathan could feel it—the hunger of unseen eyes, waiting for mischief, for a misstep. And yet, he moved deliberately, a predator pacing among prey that had forgotten the meaning of fear.A narrow market street opened before him, lined with stalls now deserted in the fog. Strange shapes lurked b
Ch-188
The ballroom shimmered with chandeliers and polished marble, the kind of place where wealth itself seemed to breathe. Tonight was not just a banquet—it was a performance. The elite had gathered: politicians, magnates, scholars, and cloaked guests whose faces no one dared to recognize. Nathan’s presence was both tolerated and tested. His name carried whispers of power, but his enemies knew how to twist that weight into chains.The announcement of his arrival should have brought silence, respect, perhaps even awe. Instead, as he stepped through the gilded doors, the laughter at the far tables only grew louder. Glasses clinked mockingly. A ripple of derision rolled across the hall like a tide pulling back before the strike.“Ah,” someone said too loudly, a silver-haired lord with cruelty stitched into his smile. “The man who breaks rings but not curses. Tell me, Nathan, how does it feel to be shadow-touched and still play hero?”The chuckles that followed were sharp, like knives scraping
Ch-187
The rain fell in relentless sheets against the glass doors of the Grand Meridian Hotel. Lightning streaked over the peaks, throwing the marble lobby into flashes of ghostly white. Nathan stepped through the entrance, soaked to the bone, but carrying himself with the quiet certainty of a man who had faced worse storms than this.Yet, from the moment he entered, whispers slithered across the lobby. Guests in evening gowns and sharp tuxedos turned their heads, eyes narrowing. He could feel it—an undercurrent of malice not entirely human.Behind the reception desk, the clerk—an impeccably groomed man with a rehearsed smile—straightened his tie. “Mr. Hale, is it?” His voice was pitched loud enough for the entire lobby to hear. “I’m afraid we don’t accommodate your kind here.”The words struck like a whip. People froze, listening.Nathan’s jaw tightened. “My kind?”The clerk’s smile sharpened. “Those who consort with shadows. The corrupted ones.”A ripple of shock spread. One woman gasped,
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