The snow had melted overnight, leaving Milwaukee’s streets slick and gray. Landon walked fast, hands jammed in his pockets, the cold air cutting through his coat.
He couldn’t stop thinking about the voice from yesterday, Remember. The word echoed like a drumbeat inside his skull.
Maybe it had been stress, maybe a breakdown. But deep down, he knew better. At the corner, a car horn blared.
Landon blinked and jerked back just in time as a delivery van screamed past him, missing him by inches. “Watch it!” the driver shouted.
Landon’s heart pounded. A second earlier, he knew that was going to happen. Not guessed, knew.
The sound, the smell of exhaust, even the shape of the driver’s face had flickered through his head before it happened. He stood on the sidewalk, staring after the van. “What the hell.”
People brushed past, muttering. He shook his head, trying to clear it. His phone buzzed again, no number, just another message: “Calibration: 7%.”
Landon’s throat went dry. “No,” he whispered. “This isn’t real.”
He shut the phone off and kept walking. But the feeling didn’t leave, the sense that the world around him was just slightly slower than before, as if his thoughts were moving half a second ahead of everything else.
He stopped at a diner on Wells Street, the kind of place that hadn’t changed since the ’80s, cracked red booths, sticky menus, oldies humming through tinny speakers.
“Coffee?” the waitress asked, pouring before he could answer.
“Yeah. Black.”
She left, and he leaned forward, rubbing his temples. The place was almost empty, a couple arguing near the window, an old man reading the Journal Sentinel in the corner.
The couple’s voices rose, sharp and bitter. “I told you, I didn’t text her!” the man hissed.
“You’re lying, Brian!” the woman snapped. “You always, ”
Then Landon froze. A whisper brushed through his mind, quiet and fast, like words carried on wind. “She doesn’t know about the second phone. Keep calm.”
Landon’s eyes widened. He looked at the man, the whisper matched his lips, but the words were silent, then another voice, softer, trembling: “If he lies again, I’m leaving tonight. I swear I will.”
The woman. Landon’s pulse raced. He could hear them, not their voices, their thoughts. He gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white. “No. Not possible.”
“Refill?” the waitress said suddenly.
He nearly jumped. “Uh, no, thanks.”
She frowned. “You okay, honey? You look pale.”
“I’m fine,” he muttered, grabbing his coat and sliding a few crumpled bills onto the counter.
Outside, the cold air hit him like a slap. His mind buzzed, alive with fragments of thoughts not his own, flashes of passing strangers: late for work, need rent money, God, he looks familiar.
He staggered into an alley and pressed his hands to his head. “Stop!” he shouted. “Get out of my head!”
And just like that, silence. The flood of voices vanished, leaving him trembling in the quiet, then his phone lit up again. “Phase One complete. Synchronization: 15%.”
Landon stared at it, breathing hard. “What are you doing to me?”
No reply, only a faint vibration, like a heartbeat pulsing through the metal.
By afternoon, he’d walked halfway across the city, trying to think. Trying to feel normal. But nothing about the day felt normal.
When he got back to his apartment, the answering machine light was blinking. He pressed play.
“Landon, it’s Emily.” Her voice was cautious, formal. “I need to drop off some paperwork. Dad said you have to sign before Friday. I’ll stop by tomorrow morning.”
He laughed under his breath. “Of course you will.”
He sat down, rubbing his hands together. They were steady now, too steady. He could feel energy humming under his skin.
A strange electricity that made his veins glow faintly blue beneath the light, then, a knock at the door. He froze. “Who is it?”
“It’s Claire. From the café.”
He blinked. “How did you, ?”
“I looked you up. You left your business card in the tip jar, remember?” Her voice carried a smile. “Mind if I come in?”
He hesitated, then opened the door. She stood there in her gray coat, holding two cups of coffee. “Peace offering,” she said. “You looked like someone who could use a friend.”
He took one. “You tracked me down for coffee?”
“I was curious,” she admitted, stepping inside. “You had that look, the kind people get right before something big happens.”
He laughed softly. “You have no idea.”
She studied him for a moment. “You seem… different today.”
“Different how?”
“Calmer. But also… sharper? Like you’re seeing everything at once.”
He looked at her sharply. “Why would you say that?”
She shrugged. “Gut feeling. I work in behavioral research at UW. I notice things.”
He sipped the coffee, watching her over the rim. “Behavioral research, huh? So you read minds?”
She grinned. “Only when I’m lucky.”
Landon chuckled, but his heart skipped, because right then, a whisper touched his mind again: “She’s testing you. She knows something.”
He frowned. “What are you really doing here, Claire?”
Her smile faltered. “What do you mean?”
“You tell me.”
She hesitated, then sighed. “Fine. I’m consulting for a private project on human cognition. Some of the data I’ve been analyzing, it matches what you described yesterday at the café.”
He stiffened. “I didn’t describe anything.”
“You didn’t have to,” she said quietly. “The signal spike at 11:04 a.m., it came from right here. Your apartment complex.”
His pulse hammered. “You’re saying that thing, that message, was real?”
She nodded slowly. “We call it the Ascension Protocol. We’ve been tracking it for months. Whoever you are, Landon, it chose you.”
He took a step back. “No. I didn’t sign up for this.”
“Maybe not,” she said, “but it’s already inside you. And if you don’t learn to control it, it’ll burn you alive.”
Her words hung in the air. Outside, the wind howled through the alley, rattling the windows. Landon’s voice was low. “Then teach me.”
She studied him a long moment. Then, softly, “Meet me tomorrow night. Pier 6, by the lighthouse. Bring no electronics. If anyone’s following you, don’t come.”
He nodded once. She left as suddenly as she’d arrived, coat flaring behind her. When the door shut, Landon stared at his reflection in the dark window.
His eyes glimmered faintly blue, just for a heartbeat, then his phone buzzed one last time. “Ascension confirmed. Integration: 22%. Phase Two: Initiation.”
He didn’t know what Phase Two meant. But somehow, he knew this was only the beginning, the first ripple of a storm that would tear his old life apart.
Latest Chapter
Chapter Nine: Ghost Empire
The Stratton Gala had left Milwaukee buzzing. Social feeds exploded with clips of Landon Hale walking out into the night, calm and untouchable, while the Strattons burned in their own shame.A man the city once mocked had become a ghost everyone suddenly feared, but Landon didn’t bask in it. He was already working.Claire tossed the remote aside. “You’re viral,” she said. “Half the city thinks you’re an avenging angel, the other half thinks you staged it.”Landon stood by the window of the rented penthouse, overlooking the skyline. The lights shimmered like veins of power he could already feel pulsing toward him. “Let them think,” he said quietly. “Perception is leverage. Fear is currency.”She crossed her arms, studying him. “You sound like a CEO already.”He turned. “That’s the idea.”On the coffee table lay a spread of documents, company reports, stock charts, and a photo of Westhill Dynamics, a struggling logistics tech firm that once supplied the Strattons’ empire. Claire had p
Chapter Eight: Return of the Ghost
Snow glittered on the marble steps outside the Lakeshore Grand Hotel, where Milwaukee’s elite were gathered for the Winter Hope Charity Gala. Cameras flashed. Laughter echoed. A jazz band played soft, expensive music under the chandeliers, and in the middle of it all, the Strattons smiled like nothing had ever happened.Harold, stiff and polished in a navy suit, was doing interviews near the sponsor banner. Emily stood beside him, flawless in a silver gown. Todd, his arm in a designer brace, smirked for the cameras, pretending last week’s “incident” had been a minor electrical fire.The whispers had died down. Their PR team made sure of that. Until tonight. Because Landon Hale was back.Claire adjusted her coat beside him on the sidewalk, just out of the lights. “You’re sure about this?” she murmured.Landon watched the revolving doors, calm as still water. “They built their image by destroying mine,” he said softly. “I’m just returning the favor.”Claire gave a wry smile. “You coul
Chapter Seven: The Fallout
The Stratton estate was cordoned off by dawn. Blue and red lights washed over the snow like watercolor stains. Reporters huddled behind yellow tape, cameras flashing, breath misting in the frigid Milwaukee air.“Police are still trying to determine what caused the electrical failure and injuries at the Stratton residence late last night,” a young reporter said into her mic, hair whipped by the wind. “Sources say the family is refusing to comment, but witnesses claim there were… unusual lights.”A camera drone buzzed overhead, capturing wide shots of the dark mansion. For all its luxury, it looked like a haunted shell.Detective Elena Brooks stepped out of her unmarked sedan, clutching a paper cup of coffee. She hated winter, hated rich people’s scandals, and most of all, hated that her first case of the year smelled like nonsense. A rookie officer jogged up. “Detective, you’ll want to see this.”Inside the mansion, the air was thick with the scent of ozone and fear. The fireplace w
Chapter Six: The Echo
Snow fell thicker that night over the Stratton estate, soft and silent, burying the footprints Landon had left behind. Inside, the house was anything but quiet.Todd paced the living room like a trapped animal. His right arm hung limp at his side, wrapped in a sling. Every time he moved, pain flashed across his face. “I’m telling you, Dad, that freak threw me with nothing. No wires, no tricks. Just, boom!” He snapped his fingers. “Like gravity flipped.”Harold stood by the fireplace, drink in hand. His usually perfect hair was disheveled, his face pale. “You’re exaggerating.”“I’m not exaggerating!” Todd shouted. “He glowed! His eyes were blue like, like neon!”“Enough!” Harold’s voice cracked like a whip. “You sound insane.”Emily sat curled on the couch, still in the blue dress she’d worn that evening. Her mascara had smudged, her eyes vacant. “He’s not insane,” she said quietly. “I saw it too.”Harold turned sharply. “You’re just… upset. He’s gone, Emily. Forget him.”She looked u
Chapter Five: The Pier
The night was a black mirror. Lake Michigan stretched out like an endless sheet of ink, the old lighthouse blinking red every few seconds. Wind lashed the pier, biting through Landon’s coat, but he hardly felt the cold. He was early.The message from Claire had said “Pier 6. Midnight. No electronics.” He’d left his phone in a locker two blocks away, though the thing had still pulsed faintly even after he shut it off, like a heart unwilling to stop beating.Now, the pier creaked under his boots as he stared out at the dark water. The whole city was silent behind him, a thousand lights reflected in the waves.“Didn’t think you’d actually come,” said a voice from the shadows.Landon turned. Claire stepped out of the darkness, coat whipping around her, face half-lit by the lighthouse’s glow. “You don’t seem like the trusting type,” she added.“I’m not,” he said. “But I’m out of options.”“Good answer.” She looked him over. “You’ve changed. Energy output’s higher.”“I don’t even know wha
Chapter Four: The Divorce Dinner
Snow powdered the Strattons’ mansion like sugar on marble. Landon stood at the iron gate, clutching the divorce papers Emily had insisted he sign “in person.” He could have mailed them, but something in him wanted to see their faces, one last time, before he disappeared from their world for good.The gate buzzed open. He walked up the long drive, boots crunching over frozen gravel. The house glittered with warm light, all glass and stone and quiet arrogance.Harold Stratton himself opened the door, immaculate as ever in a navy sweater and loafers. “Ah, the prodigal son-in-law,” he said dryly. “Try not to drip on the rug.”Landon wiped his feet deliberately, meeting the man’s eyes. “Wouldn’t want to stain perfection.”Harold’s jaw tightened. “Come in.”Inside, everything gleamed, crystal chandeliers, a fire glowing behind glass, the smell of expensive wine. Emily sat on the couch, pale blue dress, hands folded like she was attending a funeral. Todd lounged beside her, smug in his des
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