The city lights shimmered against the glass towers, painting the streets in a mix of neon and shadow. Zane Cross adjusted his tie as he walked down the empty sidewalk, the echo of his footsteps bouncing off the quiet night. The business meeting had dragged on longer than expected, but he felt accomplished hopeful even. Life was finally starting to look stable.
He slipped his hands into his pockets, humming softly as the cool night breeze brushed against him. His mind was still replaying the conversation, the handshake, the promise of a new start.
That was when he heard it.
The soft scuff of shoes behind him.
Before he could turn, a sudden pain erupted in his stomach. His breath caught as the world tilted—hot blood spilled down his shirt. He looked down in shock to see the glint of a knife, crimson dripping from the blade.
A stranger's face hovered over his shoulder, eyes cold, mouth whispering words he couldn't comprehend. Then, just as suddenly, the figure vanished into the night, leaving him crumpled on the pavement.
"Why…?" Zane gasped, pressing a trembling hand to the wound. His legs gave out, and he fell to his knees. The world blurred the neon lights stretching into long rivers of color. His thoughts grew heavy, sinking into darkness.
"Is this… how it ends?" he thought.
But instead of silence, he felt something strange.
A pull.
His body dissolved into light, his consciousness torn from flesh and bone. For a moment, he drifted in a place that was neither dark nor bright, only endless. He heard faint whispers, like sounds of clawing at the edges of his mind as he wanted to scream but couldn't.