The night was not silent.
It pulsed… like a living heart.
In the dim streets of the city, the air carried a strange weight—an almost invisible pressure that pressed against the skin, making each breath feel heavier than the last. Somewhere in the distance, the faint echo of footsteps broke the stillness, slow and deliberate, as if each step was marking the countdown to something inevitable.
A lone figure stood beneath a flickering streetlamp. His suit was pristine, untouched by the cold drizzle that began to fall, and in his gloved hand, a black rose rested delicately—its petals absorbing the light instead of reflecting it. His eyes, faintly luminous, studied the empty street with a calm that felt unnatural, as though the chaos of the world could never reach him.
But tonight… tonight, the shadows moved differently.
They stretched and curled, whispering against the walls, their shapes bending in ways they shouldn't.
Somewhere, deep within those shadows, something took a breath.
And the city would never be the same again.