The city of Berlin was grey with drizzle, and Liam Routh sat alone at a corner café, steam curling from his cup of bitter espresso. Voice was beside him, now silent for longer than usual, as if disturbed by something unseen.
Across from him, a man took a seat without invitation. Late middle-aged, gray hair, brown scarf, eyes that had seen too much and spoken too little.
"You're reading Kael's records," the man said, eyes not blinking.
Liam nearly dropped the book in his lap. "How do you—?"
"Because I left the last one where you'd find it," the stranger smiled. "And you're close. The empire he traveled to—the one in the west—it's not forgotten. It's just well hidden."
Liam narrowed his eyes. "Who are you?"
"A friend of history. A custodian of chaos. And your next destination is... China. The Forbidden City."
He slid a napkin across the table. A symbol was drawn in gold ink: the same one that had been burned into the cipher in Chapter Thirty-Four.
Before Liam could respond, the man stood and walked away, disappearing between pedestrians like mist.
Voice stirred. "He was not... ordinary."
"No kidding." Liam stood, staring at the napkin.
"Forbidden City, huh?"
"And quickly," Voice said. "Someone else is listening now."
Liam stuffed the book into his coat, and without another word, they left the café. A new journey had begun—one that would lead them deep into the east, toward shadows that refused to stay buried.
To be continued...