The city remembers.
That's something no one tells you.
They'll talk about crime rates, infrastructure, broken politics, underground magic syndicates—but no one ever mentions the fact that the city is aware.
Not alive in a heartbeat-and-breath way.
Alive in a memory way.
And tonight?
It's paying attention to me.
The alley is still smoking when I step out of it.
The creature's remains dissolved into ash ten minutes ago. That's how these things work. They don't leave bodies. They leave warnings.
And this one left a message.
I can still feel it crawling across my skin.
"You shouldn't have interfered."
That's what it whispered before I tore it apart.
Interfered with what?
That's the part I don't like.
I walk toward the main street. Neon signs flicker overhead. People pass by like nothing happened. No one noticed the tremor. No one saw the shadow rip open.
Or maybe they did.
And chose not to look.
Smart.
The anonymous figure from earlier walks beside me now. Still quiet. Still tense.
"You're shaking," I say casually.
"I'm not."
"You are."
Silence.
We stop under a flickering streetlight.
"Talk," I say.
"They weren't supposed to manifest this early."
"They?" I tilt my head. "Plural."
"Yes."
That's not good.
"You want to explain," I continue, "or are we going to play the vague prophecy game all night?"
They hesitate again.
I'm starting to hate hesitation.
"There's a pattern," they say finally. "Disturbances. Breaks in the Veil. You were present at three of them this month."
I blink.
Then laugh.
"That's adorable. Correlation isn't causation."
"But what if it is?"
Ah.
There it is.
The accusation.
"You think I caused it."
"I think you're connected."
The air tightens.
For a split second, I consider walking away.
But curiosity is a disease I never cured.
"And if I am?" I ask.
They swallow.
"Then you're not just part of the chaos."
"You are the trigger."
Interesting.
I smile slowly.
"You give me way too much credit."
But something twists in my chest.
Because deep down?
I've felt it too.
Every time the Veil thins, every time the shadows ripple unnaturally, every time something crawls out of places it shouldn't—
I'm nearby.
Coincidence?
Maybe.
Or maybe I'm lying to myself.
We start walking again.
"So what now?" I ask.
"There's another breach forming."
Of course there is.
"Where?"
They look up toward the skyline.
"The Meridian Tower."
I stop walking.
Meridian Tower isn't just a building.
It's the building.
Corporate headquarters. Political center. Financial hub. And beneath it?
Old foundations.
Very old.
You don't build something that tall without digging deep.
And digging deep in this city is never safe.
"You're telling me," I say carefully, "that whatever crawled out of that alley is now heading for the center of power."
"Yes."
"And you want me to what? Fight it?"
"No."
They look at me.
"I want you to let it happen."
I laugh.
Oh, that's rich.
"You dragged me into this to tell me to do nothing?"
"If you interfere again, it will escalate."
"And if I don't?"
"It will complete the cycle."
"Which means?"
They hesitate.
Again.
"It means the Veil tears completely."
Silence.
The city hums around us.
Car horns.
Distant sirens.
Wind sliding between skyscrapers.
"And what happens," I ask softly, "when the Veil tears?"
Their voice drops.
"Everything hidden becomes visible."
Now that…
That's tempting.
Magic exposed.
Secrets exposed.
Power structures collapsing.
No more pretending.
No more shadows pretending they're harmless.
The city stripped down to its bones.
I feel something dark stir inside me.
That would be chaos.
Beautiful chaos.
"You're considering it," they whisper.
I shrug.
"I like change."
"This isn't change. It's annihilation."
"Same difference."
They grab my arm.
Bold move.
"If you let this happen, thousands will die."
I look at their hand on me.
Then at their eyes.
"You still think I'm a hero."
"I think you have a choice."
I gently remove their hand.
"That's your mistake."
I turn toward Meridian Tower.
"Because I always choose myself first."
—
Meridian Tower glows like a blade cutting the sky.
Glass and steel reflecting the city's heartbeat.
But tonight?
There's something wrong.
The lights flicker in a pattern.
Not random.
Intentional.
Like a signal.
I feel it before I see it.
The pressure.
Like standing too close to deep water.
Something massive moving beneath the surface.
"You feel that?" the figure asks.
"Yes."
"Tell me you're not going to do something reckless."
I smirk.
"No promises."
We cross the plaza.
Security guards stand at the entrance.
Unaware.
Normal.
Human.
I almost feel bad.
Almost.
The ground trembles.
Subtle.
But real.
The glass of the tower ripples.
Not cracks.
Ripples.
Like it's liquid for half a second.
And then—
A scream.
High above us.
A window shatters.
Blackness spills out.
Not smoke.
Not shadow.
Absence.
It spreads across the surface of the building like ink in water.
People start running.
Phones come out.
Sirens grow louder.
And the Veil thins.
I can see it now.
Threads of light tearing across the air.
The boundary unraveling.
"You said don't interfere," I remind the figure.
"Yes."
"And if I do?"
"It gets worse."
I watch the blackness crawl downward.
Toward the entrance.
Toward the street.
Toward the people.
My people.
My city.
My chaos.
The absence touches the ground.
And reality bends.
A car warps.
Metal twisting like paper.
A lamppost folds inward.
A woman screams as the sidewalk beneath her liquefies.
That's when I realize something.
This isn't a controlled breach.
This isn't part of a cycle.
This is hunger.
Raw. Uncontained.
And it's not following rules.
The figure sees it too.
"This isn't right," they whisper.
No.
It isn't.
The absence turns.
Not randomly.
Directly.
At me.
Of course it does.
It pulses.
And I hear it.
Clear as day.
"You opened the door."
The words slam into my skull.
I didn't open anything.
Did I?
Fragments flash in my mind.
Moments I ignored.
Places I touched.
Symbols I dismissed.
Coincidences stacking too neatly.
"You're connected," the figure said.
No.
No, I refuse that.
The absence lunges.
I move.
Instinct.
Magic flares in my hands—sharp, electric, unstable.
It collides with the blackness.
And for the first time?
It doesn't dissolve.
It absorbs.
My power feeds it.
That's new.
That's very new.
I stagger back.
The ground splits beneath us.
People scatter in every direction.
The skyline flickers like a broken screen.
"You need to stop!" the figure yells.
"I'm trying!"
"No—you need to stop fighting it!"
That makes no sense.
But I'm running out of options.
The absence surges again.
Closer.
Hungry.
Curious.
It's studying me.
Like I'm not prey.
Like I'm familiar.
I lower my hands.
The magic fades.
The absence pauses.
The city holds its breath.
And then—
It retreats.
Not gone.
Just… pulling back.
Crawling up the tower again.
Sealing the cracks it made.
The Veil tightens.
The threads stitch themselves.
Reality stabilizes.
Within seconds, it's over.
Sirens wail.
Emergency crews rush in.
People cry.
But the tower?
It looks untouched.
Like nothing happened.
Except I know better.
Because I can still feel it.
Watching.
Waiting.
The figure stares at me.
"You see now?"
I don't answer.
Because I do see.
And I hate what I'm seeing.
"This wasn't random," they continue. "It reacted to you."
I look up at Meridian Tower.
At the place where the absence vanished.
"You said if I interfered, it would escalate."
"Yes."
"It escalated anyway."
They go silent.
Which means they didn't expect that.
Which means the rules are broken.
Which means…
This isn't about stopping a cycle.
It's about me.
The city hums again.
Normal.
But underneath it?
Something shifted.
I turn to the figure.
"You still want me to stay out of it?"
They hesitate.
Then:
"No."
Good.
Because neither do I.
I start walking toward the tower entrance.
Security is overwhelmed.
Confused.
Perfect.
"You're going inside?" they ask.
"Yes."
"That's insane."
"Correct."
I step into the lobby.
Marble floors.
Corporate calm.
Artificial light.
But I can see the fracture lines in the air.
Hairline cracks in reality.
And they all lead down.
Into the foundations.
Into whatever's buried beneath this place.
The absence wasn't trying to destroy the tower.
It was trying to reach something.
Or someone.
And it thought I had the key.
I smile slowly.
"Something isn't what it seems," I murmur to myself.
And this time?
I'm not talking to you.
I'm talking to the city.
Because if I really did open a door—
Then I want to know what's on the other side.
The elevator doors slide open.
The figure grabs my arm one last time.
"If you go down there…"
"I know."
"You might not come back."
I step inside.
The doors close.
"I never planned to."
The elevator descends.
Below ground level.
Past maintenance floors.
Past restricted access.
The lights flicker.
The pressure builds again.
And somewhere deep beneath Meridian Tower—
Something wakes up.
And it's smiling.