He stepped through the door, and the world folded itself like paper.
Light spilled in ragged shards, slicing the darkness like knives.
The city wasn't a place anymore.
It was a breath.
A living thing inhaling secrets and exhaling silence.
The air tasted sharper here.
Cold. Metallic, but not unpleasant.
It hummed faintly — a pulse beneath the skin of everything.
He looked down at his hands — still pale, still bare.
For the first time, he noticed the faint glow beneath his skin.
Not veins. Something else.
Roots. Threads.
They wove through him, connecting him to the city's heartbeat.
A voice spoke again.
Not from nowhere this time.
"You are tethered."
He spun, heart a caged bird.
A woman stepped forward from the shadows.
She wore shards of mirror like armor — every piece reflecting a different face.
"The city does not forget you, not fully.
You are the fracture it fears.
The echo it can't silence."
She held out her hand.
In her palm: a small, black seed, pulsing with light.
"This is your choice."
He stared.
The seed was alive — breathing, waiting.
"Plant it," she said. "Or walk away and let the city swallow you whole."
He hesitated.
Walking away meant forgetting — dissolving into the fog of everything lost.
Planting it meant something else.
Pain. Awakening. Truth.
The woman's gaze softened.
"If you plant it, you will see the city's soul.
And it will see yours."
His fingers curled around the seed.
A sudden crash echoed behind them.
The city shuddered — glass shattered, alarms screamed in silence.
The shadow from before appeared again — now solid, no longer flickering.
It snarled.
"They're coming."
The woman nodded.
"You've already chosen."
He crushed the seed in his palm.
Light exploded.
The city screamed.
End of Chapter 3.