Twin-Moon Metropolis woke the next morning to the uneasy hum of sirens that weren't quite alarms but weren't quite ignorable either. Subtle things had shifted overnight—the color of the sky just a shade too pale, the way the air trembled faintly, the thin fractures in the atmosphere dissolving before anyone could notice.
Aiden Crowe noticed.
He stood on the rooftop of an abandoned parking complex, hoodie pulled tight against the cold dawn breeze, staring out over the city as one of the twin moons dragged itself across the horizon like a wounded lantern.
His shadow-mantle quivered behind him, still shaken from the Rift Heart's warning. The parasite whispered softly under his skin, its pulses out of sync with his heartbeat.
**Evolution deferred. Host strain increasing.**
Aiden ignored it.
His focus remained locked on the Guild Tower—a sharp spear of chrome and obsidian piercing the morning sky. At its summit, a blue flare blinked in a coded sequence.
A signal.
A scan pattern.
Rowan Vance had started looking for anomalies again.
Aiden exhaled slowly.
He knew exactly why.
Last night's Rift collapse wasn't subtle.
And the Shardborn?
Guild sensors would flag that energy signature instantly.
He couldn't let them connect it to him.
Not yet.
He stepped back from the edge, shadows retracting beneath his coat, the parasite murmuring dissatisfaction.
**Threat level rising. Guild hostility probability increasing.**
"Don't remind me," Aiden muttered.
But his chest tightened all the same.
He had twenty-four hours before Rowan's scan reached critical density.
Before the Guild pinpointed the source of yesterday's outburst.
Before they put Aiden Crowe on the anomaly watchlist.
And if they did—
Eldran's stabilizers would be impossible to obtain.
Kael would find him sooner.
Lyra would be dragged into a Guild interrogation she wasn't equipped to survive.
Stopping the Guild from noticing him mattered almost as much as stopping Moonfall.
A thin electronic buzz cut through the air.
Aiden froze.
A Guild drone hovered five meters behind him, its lens focusing, zeroing in on his silhouette.
Of course.
Of course his luck had expired.
The parasite hissed internally.
**Eliminate. Consume. Silence witness.**
"No."
**Efficiency—**
"NO!"
Aiden spun, shadows whipping outward in a controlled arc that masked the motion of his actual arm. He slammed his palm against the drone's scanning core, sending a jolt of corrupted energy through its frame.
The drone sputtered.
Flickered.
Collapsed to the rooftop in a shower of sparks.
Aiden cursed under his breath.
He didn't use parasite abilities.
Not directly.
Not intentionally.
But his control had slipped for a fraction of a second, and that was enough.
He knelt and pulled the drone's memory core free, crushing it beneath the heel of his boot. A faint static hiss faded into silence.
No data log.
No record of his silhouette.
No Guild notice.
For now.
He wiped sweat from his brow.
This timeline was shredding itself faster every minute.
He needed that stabilizer.
He needed Eldran's shard.
He needed Lyra at zero exposure.
But most of all—
He needed to get off this roof before the Guild dispatched a retrieval drone.
Aiden dropped into an alley three stories below, shadows cushioning his landing with a soft ripple. The smell of damp concrete, engine grease, and morning fog filled his lungs.
The parasite pulsed.
**Host adrenaline spike detected.
Stability decreasing.
Seek anchor.**
Aiden clenched his jaw.
"No anchor," he whispered. "She's off-limits."
The parasite disagreed—but stayed silent.
Which was somehow worse.
He moved quickly, weaving through backstreets, ducking under camera arcs, avoiding Guild patrols sweeping the district after the abnormal Rift readings.
He kept replaying last night's vision in his mind—
the hollow god-shape towering over a dead world,
his own silhouette corrupted into something monstrous.
The parasite had been fascinated.
That terrified him more than anything else.
He turned a corner—
And stopped dead.
Because Rowan Vance stood at the far end of the street, holding a handheld scanner glowing bright violet.
Not Guild-issued violet.
Corruption violet.
Aiden's pulse spiked.
Rowan looked up.
Their eyes locked.
"Oh," Rowan said softly. "It's you."
Aiden's shadows rose behind him like teeth.
Rowan didn't move at first.
He simply stood there, one hand gripping the corrupted scanner, the other lifting as if to calm the air between them. His face was pale under the flickering streetlamp, but his eyes—sharp, analytic—never left Aiden's shadow-rippled silhouette.
"Aiden Crowe," Rowan said softly, as if testing the name on his tongue. "You shouldn't be here."
Aiden's heart hammered.
He forced the shadows to settle.
They resisted.
"What do you want?" Aiden asked.
Rowan glanced at the scanner. The device crackled with unstable violet energy, its readings spiking so violently it sounded like static screaming.
"This," Rowan said. "This thing has been going insane since last night. You know why?"
Aiden didn't answer.
Rowan didn't expect him to.
"A Rank-E Rift doesn't produce signatures like this." Rowan raised the scanner higher, stepping closer. "It certainly doesn't spit out Dominion-tier fragments."
Aiden's breath caught.
He knows.
Rowan took another step.
"And it definitely doesn't collapse with such violent distortion that it registers on every Guild channel from District 1 through 10."
Aiden swallowed hard.
Rowan paused, expression shifting—not to anger, not even suspicion, but to something like _concern_.
"Aiden," he said gently, "are you being exploited?"
Aiden blinked. "What?"
"That shadow on your back. The energy patterns. The memory degradation markers. They're identical to parasitic corruption models—but refined. Structured." Rowan's tone softened even further. "If someone forced a parasitic system onto you, you need to tell me before it consumes you."
Aiden's throat tightened.
Forced?
If only.
The parasite pulsed inside him, agitated by Rowan's proximity.
**Threat.
Expose.
Silence him.**
Aiden forced a steady breath.
"No one forced anything on me," he said. "This is… mine."
Rowan's face darkened. "Then you're playing with something you can't control."
Aiden almost laughed—bitter, exhausted.
"You have no idea."
Rowan exhaled, then did something unexpected.
He lowered the scanner.
"I can help you," he said quietly. "If you'll let me."
Aiden froze.
Help?
Rowan—who would one day die trying to protect civilians during Moonfall.
Rowan—who became one of Aiden's few true allies in the end, before the parasite ate what grief remained in him.
Aiden felt a crack in his composure.
But attachment was dangerous.
The Guild was dangerous.
Rowan Vance, in any timeline, was dangerous.
"I don't need the Guild involved," Aiden said.
"You do," Rowan replied calmly. "Your readings are unstable. Your system is corrupting reality around you. If you lose control, people could die."
Aiden flinched.
Because Rowan was right.
Rowan always was.
But the Guild would cage him.
Experiment on him.
Study him until nothing remained.
"I can't let you scan me," Aiden said firmly.
Rowan studied him for a long moment.
Then he nodded.
"Then you need to leave this district now. Before a Guild unit finds you instead of me."
Aiden stiffened. "Why… why are you helping me?"
Rowan's gaze shifted—curiosity, concern, and instinct tangled together.
"Because whatever you are," Rowan said quietly, "you're scared. And scared people with power get themselves killed."
Aiden stared.
Rowan didn't know how true that was.
Rowan stepped back, lowering the scanner further.
"Go. Before they reroute the search grid."
Aiden hesitated.
The parasite hissed.
**Unwise.
Eliminate him.
He knows too much.**
Aiden ignored it and took a step backward.
Rowan's voice followed him:
"Aiden… this thing inside you—don't let it own you."
Aiden swallowed the burn in his throat.
"Too late," he whispered.
Then he turned and ran.
The city blurred past him in fractured streaks of neon and shadow. Aiden moved fast, vaulting over railings, slipping through alleys, navigating rooftops with instinct honed by two lifetimes. His lungs burned. His pulse spiked.
The parasite churned with molten agitation.
**Threat unresolved.
Guild interest rising.
Eliminate variable.**
"No killing Rowan," Aiden snapped.
**Then accelerate evolution.
Host survival probability dropping.**
Aiden skidded to a stop atop a tram station roof, chest heaving.
The parasite's pulses were growing sharper.
Hungrier.
More insistent.
The Shardborn vision still clung to his mind like poisoned smoke.
The collapsing world.
The hollow god wearing his silhouette.
If he kept resisting evolution—
he risked dying before he could prevent that future.
If he accepted evolution—
he risked _becoming_ that future.
He braced both hands on the metal railing.
"A balance," he rasped. "I need a balance."
The parasite disagreed.
**Impossible.
Evolution must be complete.**
Aiden shook his head violently.
"No. Not like that. Not again."
The parasite's cold response wrapped around his mind like a tightening coil.
**You misunderstand.
Not again.
This time… sooner.**
Aiden nearly lost his footing.
Sooner?
No.
No, no, no—
He shoved the thought away, desperate for distraction.
That's when he saw it.
A glowing blue icon on a holo-board across the street:
**GUILD NOTICE: UNREGISTERED PARASITIC SIGNATURE DETECTED
DISTRICT 6–7 BORDER
ALL HUNTERS REPORT ANOMALIES**
A chill ran down Aiden's spine.
They weren't just scanning for him anymore.
They were hunting him.
His window had slammed shut.
He needed that stabilizer.
He needed Eldran's shard.
He needed a plan—
A sharp static burst cut across his senses.
The parasite stiffened.
**Host.
Incoming threat.**
Aiden whirled around—
—and a shadow detached itself from the opposite rooftop.
Not Kael.
Not Guild.
Something worse.
A Shadow-Church operative.
Robe-lined.
Mask etched with lunar runes.
A blade of crystallized void-light in his hand.
Aiden's blood iced.
They weren't supposed to appear until next year.
The operative lifted his blade.
"The False Regressor has awakened early," he intoned. "Praise the Night-Archivist. The harvest begins."
Aiden took a step back.
The parasite surged like fire through his veins.
**Kill.**
And this time—
Aiden wasn't sure he could say _no_.
Aiden took a single step back.
The operative took three forward.
The rooftop lights flickered, shadows stretching unnaturally as the masked figure's presence distorted the space around them. His void-crystal blade hummed with a frequency that made Aiden's teeth ache.
This wasn't a basic cultist.
This was a **Shadow-Church Harvester**—
an assassin trained to extract parasitic hosts for ritual refinement.
They harvested hosts like livestock.
Aiden had fought three of them in his last life.
And barely survived the third.
The parasite coiled inside him with sharp, fevered hunger.
**Threat lethal.
Permission to evolve—
immediately.**
"No."
His voice was iron.
Thin.
On the verge of breaking.
The Harvester tilted his head.
"You resist your divine seed," the masked man said, voice calm. "Unfortunate. The Night-Archivist has marked you for reclamation."
Aiden clenched his jaw as the operative flickered—
disappearing into the shadows.
He spun instinctively.
A blade sliced through where his neck had been a fraction of a second earlier, carving sparks from metal.
The parasite surged.
**Slow. Weak. Insufficient.
Let me correct you.**
Aiden ignored it and rolled across the rooftop, coming up low. His shadow-mantle hissed and recoiled, flickering between protective arcs and nervous tremors.
The Harvester stepped from the shadow behind a ventilation unit—
as if the darkness itself had exhaled him.
"Your anomaly signature is louder than prophecy foretold," he murmured. "You are the one who fractures cycles."
Aiden's heart stuttered.
He didn't have time to unpack that sentence.
The Harvester lunged.
Aiden dodged left—
barely—
feeling the blade's edge slice a whisper across his cheek.
He struck back with an elbow reinforced by shadow, but the Harvester dissolved into darkness again. Aiden spun, breath ragged, searching for the flicker.
The parasite howled.
**Let me fight.
Let me evolve.
Let ME—**
"SHUT UP!"
His shout shook the air.
And the rooftop fell silent.
Just long enough for Aiden to sense a pulse of cold behind him.
He turned too slowly.
The Harvester's blade sank halfway into his shoulder.
Aiden gasped, dropping to one knee as hot blood spilled down his arm.
The parasite reacted like a wildfire.
Shadows detonated outward, impaling the rooftop in jagged spears that tore through the metal and sent debris flying. The Harvester leapt back, avoiding the flurry with unsettling grace.
Aiden's vision flickered. The world tilted.
He couldn't lose here.
He couldn't lose this early.
He pressed a hand over the wound.
The parasite whispered through the pain:
**Authorize evolution.
Or die.**
Aiden's breath shook.
His chest burned.
Blood dripped from his fingertips.
He whispered, "Just… one. One evolution. Nothing more."
The parasite surged with triumphant hunger.
**Approved.
Shadow-Fang Evolution: Activating.**
A jolt of molten-lightning ripped through Aiden's spine.
His nerves ignited.
His shadow exploded outward in a wing-sweep of barbed tendrils that fractured the air itself.
A memory snapped.
Aiden screamed.
He didn't know which memory it was.
Just that something meaningful had been stolen.
Again.
The parasite roared in satisfaction.
And when Aiden opened his eyes—
there were fanged protrusions sprouting from his shadow,
curved like obsidian scythes ready to tear reality open.
The Harvester paused mid-step.
"…ah," he breathed. "A true host."
Aiden stood shakily.
No—
he didn't stand.
He **hovered**, slightly elevated by the mantle of shadows writhing behind him.
His voice was a low rasp.
"You shouldn't have come for me."
He vanished.
A flash of violet tore across the rooftop. Shadow-Fangs slashed through the space the Harvester occupied. The operative twisted, but not fast enough—the edge of one fang clipped his mask, slicing it open like paper.
He staggered back, half his mask falling away. A single eye glared at Aiden with primal fury.
"You will be claimed," the Harvester hissed. "You belong to the Night-Archivist."
"No," Aiden said, stepping forward as shadows curled in anticipation. "I belong to no one."
The Harvester lunged—
And Aiden's Shadow-Fangs pierced him from three angles at once.
The operative froze, eyes widening as the darkness ate through him.
His body dissolved into fractal shards of void-light, whispering a single word as he died:
"…inevitable…"
The rooftop fell silent.
Aiden collapsed to his knees, blood dripping, shadows twitching violently.
The parasite purred, drunk on evolution.
**Efficient.
More.**
"No," Aiden gasped. "No more. Not tonight."
He pressed a shaking hand to his head.
The missing memory was a hole.
A hole he couldn't patch.
A hole that something important once lived inside.
But he didn't have time to mourn it.
A Guild siren wailed in the distance, closing in fast.
Aiden forced himself upright.
He had to leave.
Now.
He vaulted off the rooftop and disappeared into the maze of alleys below, shadows curling tight around him like a cloak.
His shoulder burned.
His mind throbbed.
His memories trembled.
But he was alive.
And something far worse was now hunting him.
Not just the Guild.
Not just Kael.
Not just the Shadow-Church.
Reality itself was collapsing toward the place in the cycle where Aiden Crowe became the thing that ended the world.
He gritted his teeth.
"Not this time."