2023-12-04 12:57:56
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Season 4-3
On the upper floor of AZ Tower, Darius was holding an emergency meeting with the remaining board members. Panic-stricken faces filled the room; news of Andrew’s appearance had spread far faster than they expected.But Darius simply sat back, staring at the projector screen displaying the image of a man in a white lab coat.“Calm down,” he said flatly. “Karel already knows. He even thinks this is interesting. He said the experiment would be more perfect if the ‘original source’ returned.”One of the board members swallowed hard. “But if Andrew still has real influence… our stocks could plummet—”“If Andrew wants a war,” Darius cut in, “we have an army.”He looked at the screen, a thin smile forming. “And that army is not made of ordinary men.”Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, Andrew sat in a small roadside coffee shop. The place was nearly empty; only the sound of an old radio and the scent of freshly brewed black coffee filled the air.Miriam sat across from him, carrying a s
Season 4-2
It was well past midnight when Andrew arrived at his residence—or at least, the place he once called home.The house was silent. No guards, no lights, only the sound of branches and rainwater dripping from the roof tiles. Five years ago, this place had witnessed his decision to abandon everything: power, money, even his humanity.Now, after a long night at the company, Andrew stood at the dust-covered doorway.The old key was still in his pocket—rusted, but still functional.Click.Damp air greeted him.His first step echoed softly, as if the house were welcoming back its long-lost owner. In the main room, an old photograph still hung on the wall: his mother’s faint smile, William beside her, and himself—still a teenager, innocent, full of hope.Andrew stared for a long moment, then took the picture down.He set it on the table and murmured,“You know, Mother… they still haven’t learned.”The lights wouldn’t turn on, so Andrew lit a candle—the only source of light in the room. The sma
Season 4-1
Five Years After Andrew’s ExileThe rain had just stopped when a black car without a license plate halted in front of the tall building bearing the AZ Corp logo. The usually bright lobby lights were dim now, guarded only by two half-asleep security men. No one could have guessed that the man stepping out of that car was someone who should have long been regarded as a legend—or more precisely, a ghost.The echo of his footsteps resounded across the wet floor.A long gray coat draped over his frame, streaks of silver lined his hair, and his eyes... no longer belonged to the Andrew they once knew. Those eyes were deeper, colder—like someone who had seen too much of the world to ever be human again.“Good evening,” he said flatly.“I’d like to enter. I’m Andrew.”The guards exchanged glances. One of them almost laughed at the absurd claim, but something in Andrew’s presence froze that laughter in his throat.The face they saw in old photographs still hung on the lobby wall—the man said to
Season 3-Chp 109
The silence after the storm was not peace.It was memory holding its breath.For the first time in months, the Spire no longer glowed. The Mirror Sea had fallen still, its once-living surface hardened into glass. The wind blew without rhythm. The hum had faded, leaving only the faint sound of waves breaking against the edge of a world that had almost remembered itself too much.Helena stood on the cliffs above Eiren, the ocean spread before her like a vast, silver scar.The people had stopped praying.The sky no longer answered.And yet, deep within her chest, something still pulsed. Not loud, not dangerous — just a heartbeat that refused to belong entirely to her.Lira joined her near dusk. She walked slowly, as if afraid the ground itself might still shift beneath her.“You’ve been standing here since morning,” she said. “You’ll turn to stone if you don’t move.”“Maybe that would help,” Helena murmured.Lira frowned. “Help what?”“Everything. The world. Me.”She gestured toward the
Season 3-Chp 108
The first tremor reached Eiren at dawn.Helena felt it before she heard it — a subtle distortion in the air, as though the world itself had inhaled and forgotten how to exhale. Her reflection in the window stretched thin, the edges of her face blurring like wet ink.Then the sound came.A low, rolling moan that seemed to travel through stone and water alike.Lira burst into the room moments later, cloak half-tied, eyes wide.“Did you feel that?”Helena nodded slowly. “It’s the south.”“How can you know?”Helena turned toward the sea. The horizon shimmered, bending light the way heat bends distance. Beneath the surface, faint flashes of silver pulsed like veins.“I can feel them,” she said. “All of them. Every reflection that ever whispered my name.”Lira’s face paled. “Then Caldra’s gone.”“No,” Helena murmured. “Not gone. Remembered too hard.”By noon, the sea had risen.It wasn’t water anymore. Not truly. It moved like liquid glass — viscous, heavy, humming softly as it spread inlan
Season 3-Chp 107
The first mirror grew overnight.No one built it. No one hung it. It simply appeared — a perfect circle of silver glass clinging to the wall above the altar. The townspeople found it at dawn, gleaming like a frozen moon, its surface trembling as if breathing.Father Oran called it a blessing. He said the Mirrorborn had answered their devotion.But Myra, standing at the back of the square, only felt the air thicken.The reflection didn’t show the town. It showed the sea — calm, endless, impossibly still.And in that stillness, something was watching.By noon, there were seven mirrors.Each one appeared where someone had prayed the night before: above doorways, along the docks, on the hull of a fishing boat.They reflected not what was before them, but where faith looked.When a fisherman knelt to pray for safety, his mirror showed a storm — a warning.When a mother prayed for her sick child, hers showed a cradle filled with light.When Myra walked past them, they showed her nothing. On
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