Pitter… patter… pitter…
The rain hit the asphalt in relentless sheets, drumming against the city like a warning. Neon lights bounced on the wet pavement, blurring into long streaks of red and blue. Isaac Veyron hugged his coat tighter, hood drawn low, trying to disappear into the mist. Every shadow seemed alive, every sound carrying a threat.
Splash… splash…
Footsteps echoed behind him, soft, but deliberate. Isaac's pulse spiked. He didn't need to look. He could feel them—echoes, whispers, presences that weren't quite real.
"Faster. Now."
The voice, familiar and terrible, whispered in his mind. Not loud, not commanding, but insistent, like a finger pressing against his spine.
Isaac broke into a run. Thud… thud… thud… His boots splashed through puddles. Water soaked through his socks, but he didn't care. The rain seemed to mask the footsteps behind him, yet he felt them press closer with every heartbeat.
---
He turned sharply into a narrow alley, the walls coated in slick grime. A faint metallic clang echoed from a pile of trash bins. Shadows flickered. The alley seemed longer than it should, stretching unnaturally, as if reality itself had been pulled and twisted.
Lira was beside him, silent but moving with practiced ease. Her boots hit the ground tap… tap… tap…, keeping pace with his racing heartbeat. She didn't speak, but he felt her presence, steady and solid—a tether in the chaos.
Suddenly, the rain's rhythm seemed to falter. Pitter… pitter… PLOOM!! A thunderclap split the sky, shaking the streetlamps. Light flashed across the alley, illuminating a figure. Tall. Black coat flowing. Eyes gray and unfeeling. Alden.
Isaac froze. His breath hitched. Hsshh… hsshh… The sound of his own rapid inhalation echoed in his ears.
Alden's shadow stretched impossibly long across the wall, bending the light unnaturally. The wet bricks seemed to shimmer under him, like they didn't belong to this world.
"Run," the echo hissed again, urgent and desperate.
Isaac's legs moved before his mind could catch up. Splash… crash… Trash bins toppled over as he barreled past them. The alley twisted and turned, disorienting him. Behind him, he thought he heard the faintest shhh-CRACK!—like ice breaking underfoot. He didn't dare look back.
---
They emerged onto a side street, quieter. The rain fell in sheets, drip… drip… drip… from the fire escapes above. Neon from a distant shop flickered on the wet ground. Isaac's lungs burned, his heart hammering.
Lira stopped, pressing him against the wall. Thump… thump… His chest ached, but she whispered calmly:
"Listen."
Isaac did. The city noises seemed muted. Only the rain, only the echoes. And then:
"Don't trust him. Not now. Not ever."
The voice was his own—older, colder, precise. Not Alden, not Lira. His echo. The future version that had appeared in the mirror.
Isaac shook his head. "Why are there so many of you? Which one do I… listen to?"
Lira's hand on his shoulder was firm. Clink. Her silver ring caught the light, glinting like a warning.
"They aren't all you," she said. "Some of them want you to fail. Some of them want you to die. And some… some want to control what you become."
CRACK! A streetlight above them burst, sparks flying. Darkness stretched across the alley like a living thing.
Isaac flinched. "I don't even know which one is real!"
"Then start trusting your instincts," Lira replied. Her eyes scanned the darkness, sharp and calculating. "And remember this: the echoes aren't always truthful. They are fragments. Pieces of futures that may or may not happen. You must decide which ones you follow."
---
THUD… THUD… THUD… Heavy footsteps on wet asphalt. Not echoes. Not distant. Real.
They looked up. Alden stepped from the shadows, calm as ever. Water slid from his coat. Gray eyes fixed on Isaac. The air seemed to bend around him. Vrrrrm… Objects near him shimmered, like reality itself was trembling.
Isaac's echo whispered again: "He doesn't just want you. He wants all possibilities tied to you. Every timeline you touch, he will hunt."
Isaac swallowed, cold sweat running down his temples. "Then what do I do?"
Lira's lips pressed into a thin line. "We run. And we survive long enough to understand what you are capable of."
She grabbed his hand, and together, they sprinted. Splash… splish… splosh… Puddles flung water up their legs.
They ducked into an abandoned subway entrance, the smell of wet concrete and rust thick in the air. Drip… drip… drip… water fell from cracks in the ceiling. The tunnels stretched ahead, dark and endless.
"This way," Lira whispered. "The echoes will guide you if you listen."
Isaac's chest heaved. "Which echo?"
Silence. Then a faint whisper in his mind:
"Left. Always left. And do not trust the smile."
Isaac flinched. The voice was calm. Confident. Older. It wasn't Lira's voice. Not Alden's. His own.
"Left," he repeated under his breath. Lira nodded. They veered into a side tunnel.
Creak… screech… The metal of an old subway door groaned as they ran past. Shadows moved in the corners of Isaac's vision. Whispers followed him: echoes, distorted and overlapping.
"Stop."
"No."
"Follow her."
"Trust him."
His head pounded with the voices. Each step seemed heavier than the last. The tunnel stretched endlessly, damp walls pressing in, the shadows swallowing what little light the neon from the street above had managed to spill through the cracks.
---
They stopped at a dead end. A rusted, iron gate barred the way forward. Isaac pressed his palms against it. Cold. Solid. Impenetrable. Clang! His hands recoiled from the metal.
Alden appeared at the far end of the tunnel. Step… step… step… Each footfall resonated like thunder. He didn't run. He didn't hurry. Yet every step he took seemed to shrink the distance between them impossibly fast.
Isaac's echo shouted in his mind: "Do not let him corner you! You must choose—now!"
"Choose what?" Isaac cried, voice trembling. "I don't even know what's real!"
The figure stepped closer. Shadows warped around him, the damp walls twisting unnaturally. Water droplets floated in midair around his coat. The echo continued: "Which future will you follow? Which version of yourself will live?"
Isaac swallowed, fear clawing at his throat. He glanced at Lira. She gave him a tiny nod—silent, encouraging, trusting him to make a choice.
With a shuddering breath, Isaac pressed forward. Bang! The iron gate splintered under their combined force, sending shards of rusted metal across the floor.
They ran again. Splash… plash… thud… thud… The tunnel twisted, descending deeper, dampness soaking through their clothes. Whispers followed him, layering on top of one another: echoes, warnings, lies.
At last, they reached a side chamber. The echoes quieted. Darkness hung thick, and water dripped from the ceiling in slow, irregular plinks.
Isaac sank to the ground, shaking. Lira crouched beside him. "You're alive," she whispered. "That's all that matters right now."
Isaac closed his eyes, listening. The echoes were still there, but quieter, more distant. The rain outside hammered the city, muffled through the concrete above. Somewhere, distant but sharp, he heard a whisper he had never heard before:
"Choose wisely, Isaac Veyron… or all futures die."
Alden's shadow loomed outside the chamber. Not a sound betrayed him, but Isaac could feel it. The hunter of timelines, the destroyer of possibilities, was patient. Watching. Waiting.
Isaac shivered, the wet clothes clinging to his skin. The city outside might look normal, but nothing was normal anymore. Not the rain, not the shadows, not the echoes. And certainly not him.
For the first time, he understood: he wasn't just surviving the night. He was stepping into a web of realities he barely comprehended. And every step would determine which version of himself lived—and which disappeared forever.
The rain outside fell harder, pitter… patter… pitter… like a warning he could not ignore.