Light flooded the room. Not from the sun itself, but from the sky tearing open above the city.
A thunderous crackle echoed through the streets, sharp and heavy like the splitting of heaven. Windows shuddered. Birds scattered in sudden spirals. Somewhere in the distance, a car alarm wailed and died. The Gate of Reflections was opening again.
Every morning at dawn, it tore a seam into the obsidian shard suspended in the sky, an impossible black spire shaped like shattered glass caught mid-fall. From that jagged wound spilled brilliance, drawing in the sunrise and funnelling it into the Reverie like it had roots in another world.
It was always surreal. Divine. A wake-up call from the heavens.
And yet just another part of daily life.
The thunder faded into a low, reverberating hum that blanketed the city like white noise. Soon, it would taper off entirely, and the shard would resume its silent vigil above the skyline. But until then, the Gate's opening meant the day had officially begun.
No alarms needed. No clocks checked.
It was expected. Routine.
All of Halden City woke with the Gate.
And I woke with a headache.
With bloodshot eyes, I dragged myself upright. My room pulsed with leftover light, walls catching the glint of the Citadel of Mirrors, all of it reflecting off its impossibly shiny exterior.
Such was life here.
My mind drifted, already slipping away from the glow overhead and back to more immediate regrets.
Maybe staying out late the night before the new semester wasn't my brightest idea. But hey, when you're the first in class to get a new car, you don't exactly turn down every pretty girl asking for a ride. Not that that had actually happened yet. But my friends seemed to have a blast. Driving a pack of rowdy teens around the city at night was stressful, but… fun? I think.
I rolled out of bed, still half-asleep, and reminded myself I was a taken man now. It still didn't feel real. We hadn't seen each other all holiday, thanks to "things on her side," but Anya would definitely be back today.
I checked my phone. No "Good morning" message.
Again.
I hadn't realised how much something little like that had meant until it was gone.
I stared at the screen, thumb hovering. Finally, I sent her a sticker. Just another attempt to keep the thread alive, lost in the sea of double-texts and ignored gifs. She sent one message. One line at the start of break, saying she wouldn't be able to talk or meet up.
Twenty-eight days. Nearly a month.
Maybe today would be different. Or not.
Love wasn't supposed to be a ledger. But I was counting.
Days, unread messages, moments she didn't need me.
She was probably fine. Anya always said I worried too much. But with the Mark of Madness floating around, a nightmare curse that pulled people into the Reverie, I figured I had every right.
As her boyfriend, I felt like I had a right to know where she was.
By now I was showered, dressed, and staring at my reflection. For a moment, I looked… solid. Like someone who could hold things together. Guess all that holiday gym time paid off. I wasn't shredded, but I was no longer the scrawny kid Anya had first met. If I cut a little, I might even see abs soon. Nice.
—
I headed downstairs to join Dad at the table. He was watching the news, something about a politician ranting about the Gutter.
"They're all corrupt, Dio," he said without looking at me.
He would know. He worked for them.
"Just keep your sister away from anywhere sketchy," he muttered. "Especially the lower wards. Gutter kids are getting bold lately."
I nodded. Even if half the stories were exaggerations, that place made my skin crawl.
Halden's worst-kept secret, a black market stitched beneath the city where anything could be bought if you paid enough or bled enough.
"I work hard so you kids never have to go near a place like that. And one day, you'll need to do the same for your family."
I used to think it was just advice. But lately, it felt more like a contract I never signed.
Through the window, dawn light caught on the monorail spine cutting through the skyline, its glass compartments already humming to life. Beneath it, the streets yawned open, vendors dragging carts, drones weaving past traffic.
High above, the shard still bled light. It made the apartment feel... exposed.
Lyra, my twin sister, descended the stairs just as he finished. She gave me an amused smirk and headed straight for the fridge.
She held up the milk in silent question. I shook my head. Cutting. No breakfast today.
Mum followed soon after, looking relaxed, finally free from the endless school drop-offs. She'd been our personal taxi for years, especially with Lyra's packed ballet schedule.
I was a little annoyed she never got her license, though.
Although, a part of me was secretly glad.
Driving Lyra meant I always knew where she was. What she was doing. Who she was with. It wasn't like she told me everything, not anymore, but it helped. Gave me peace of mind. Just in case.
She used to come to me for everything. Now she just laughs and hides her phone
Dad always said you protect what matters.
Well, I figured someone in this house needed to take that seriously.
Ballet three times a week. In our final school year. And she still had better grades than me. Plus she was Vice President of the Student Committee. At least her dance studio was near the gym.
For the first time, I was driving us to school.
—
"Hey, have you shown Anya our car yet? What'd she say?"
I didn't have the heart to admit Anya had basically ghosted me all break.
"She's been busy. Anyway, it's my car."
"Nuh uh," Lyra said, barely glancing up from her phone. "Dad bought it for both of us."
"Until you get your license, it's mine."
"Guess that makes you my personal chauffeur. But seriously, are you sure you didn't show Anya the car? You came home late last night. And it smells weird."
I smelt it too. Sweat. Probably left my gym towel in the backseat again. I decided to leave her in the dark for this line of questioning.
Time to change the subject.
"What's up with you and that student president guy? Heard you two were spending a lot of time together last term."
That line was ammo, something I'd saved for a moment just like this. With Lyra, you learn to stay armed.
She blinked, cheeks flushing. "Wh-where's this coming from?"
I smirked, keeping my eyes on the road. I didn't like the guy. He was too perfect, handsome, popular, always surrounded by girls. The rest of the committee was just a bunch of lovestruck hopefuls. I just didn't want her getting hurt.
Lucky then, that she had a strong brother who could protect her.
"Well, if you must know... I do think there's something between us."
I nearly slammed the brakes.
"HUH? Since when?! Why didn't you tell me?"
The signs had been there. Late nights at school. Constant phone checks. Puppy eyes from the president whenever she walked by. Still, I hadn't expected it.
She burst out laughing.
"You're too easy," she said, smug as ever, flipping her hair back. "Eitan of the Hale Legacy? Please. That guy's never had a real conversation in his life. Everything he says feels like it was pre-approved by his family lawyer."
She rolled her eyes, tone laced with amusement but edged with something else. Disgust, maybe. Or caution.
"He asked me to dinner once," she continued, mimicking his velvet tone. "'Lyra, would you care to accompany me to a quiet, neutral location?' Like, is he trying to date me or negotiate a ceasefire?"
I didn't smile.
"Guys like him don't ask unless they already think they own the answer," I muttered, hands tightening on the wheel.
She arched an eyebrow. "Says the guy who thinks being my chauffeur gives him the right to vet my love life."
I winced, just slightly. Maybe I was pushing. But she knew everything about my life. She always had. And I was her brother. Wasn't it my job to care?
"Honestly, you act like I'm the one who needs protecting. But you're the one who can't sleep if everyone isn't tucked in."
My thoughts drifted, uninvited, back to my first date with Anya at the meadow. Me, awkward and nervous, trying to 'make a move' with the classic arm stretch on a bench, her giggle, the way she leaned in closer.
If anything ever happened to her and I wasn't there, I'd never forgive myself.
She was strong. Smarter than me, braver than most. But that didn't mean the world would go easy on her.
—
The city rose in layers. Gleaming towers patched over ruins, steel growing from old scars. Halden rebuilt itself like it didn't remember the war. Or didn't want to.
As we turned off the highway, the skyline shifted, and there it was, in the sky.
The Citadel of Mirrors.
Even now, even though it had been there since before I was born, it still made my chest tighten.
A titanic shard of obsidian, impossibly dark and jagged, stabbed down from the clouds like the world had been cracked from above. That shard was the ground the Citadel itself stood on, with the gateway to the Reverie inside.
It didn't belong. None of them did.
We expanded the city under it. Roads. Office towers. A mall. Tourists took pictures with it in the background like it was a sculpture, not a threat.
Once, I even saw a guy propose in the plaza under it. The light caught the ring like a blessing.
I couldn't tell if that was terrifying or comforting.
Lyra didn't say anything. Why would she? This was just another normal day in Halden.
There were Citadels all over the world now.
Another one had cracked open near the southern coast a few weeks ago.
The first confirmed in years.
Some survivors came back.
People were already saying they weren't right.
But Dad said they always say that.
"Stop the car!"
Her voice snapped me out of it. I hit the brakes.
"We passed the school."
…Oh.
—
We walked the rest of the way. As we reached the gates, my phone buzzed.
It was Anya.
Meet me at the meadow after school. I need to tell you something.