The city was too quiet.
Élise stood alone in her apartment, the clock on the wall ticking louder with every second. Adrien's voice echoed in her mind, sharp and urgent.
Do not answer if the city calls your name.
She looked at her phone. No messages. No calls. Yet the air felt charged, thick with anticipation.
11:59 p.m.
Her wrist burned.
The crescent mark pulsed, warm beneath her skin, as if it had a heartbeat of its own. Élise clenched her fist, breathing through the pain.
"This is real," she whispered. "All of it."
The lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then the sound came—not from her phone, not from the walls, but from everywhere at once.
"Élise."
Her name slid through the room like a breath against her ear.
She froze.
"No," she said aloud. "You're not real."
The voice returned, softer now. Closer.
"You are late."
Her heart hammered. Every instinct screamed at her to stay silent. To listen to Adrien. To run.
But anger flared hotter than fear.
"You chose me without asking," she said, her voice trembling but steady. "You don't get to stay silent now."
The mark flared bright.
The room darkened, shadows stretching unnaturally along the walls. The window reflected something behind her—something tall, shifting, watching.
Élise swallowed.
"What do you want?" she asked.
The silence that followed felt heavy, satisfied.
Then—
Time stopped.
The ticking clock froze mid-second. The city outside went completely still, cars suspended, lights unmoving, sound erased.
Élise gasped.
"You answered," the voice said, no longer gentle. "Now you will see."
The walls dissolved into darkness.
Suddenly, she wasn't in her apartment anymore.
She stood in the middle of an empty street, bathed in silver moonlight. Around her were others—figures frozen in place, their wrists marked with crescents.
Her breath caught.
Some looked terrified.
Some looked empty.
None looked alive.
A familiar figure stepped forward.
Adrien.
"Élise!" His voice broke as he reached for her. "What did you do?"
"I had to," she said, tears burning her eyes. "I needed answers."
He looked at her wrist, glowing fiercely now.
"They're not showing you answers," he said hoarsely. "They're claiming you."
The shadows stirred.
A presence loomed behind her, vast and unseen.
"One of you belongs to us," the city spoke. "The other already does."
Adrien stiffened.
Élise turned to him slowly. "What does that mean?"
His jaw tightened.
"It means," he said quietly, "that if you stay… I may be the price."
The moonlight dimmed.
The shadows closed in.
And the city waited for her choice.