Kael woke before dawn. The city was quiet—too quiet. Even the hum of traffic seemed muted, distant, like a dream fading into consciousness.
He sat on the edge of his bed, hands trembling slightly, replaying Liora's lessons in his mind. The cracks remember you. The lines want you. Some want to claim you.
He wasn't sure if he was ready. But he had to start somewhere.
The alley from the night before was still fresh in his memory, its warped bricks and shimmering cracklines engraved in his mind. He left the apartment, pulling his jacket tight against the chill, stepping into streets that felt familiar yet impossibly different.
The city's morning light filtered through the buildings, but the alleys he sought were darker, hidden in plain sight. Kael walked with purpose, eyes scanning every corner, every shadow. He felt it before he saw it—the faint pulse of the line, vibrating beneath the asphalt like a heartbeat.
There it was: a thin fracture stretching across the wall of an abandoned subway entrance, faint but unmistakable. The edges shimmered, almost liquid, and the shadows around it seemed heavier, thicker.
Kael swallowed. "All right… let's see what I can do."
He stepped closer. Liora's words echoed: Do not fear the line. Feel it. Understand it. Learn from it.
He took a deep breath, placed a hand on the wall, and let the crackline pull him forward.
The world bent again. The street beneath him rippled like water, buildings twisted impossibly, and shadows slid along walls like living things. He stumbled but regained his balance. The pulse beneath his feet was steady now, guiding him.
And then he heard it: a soft, rhythmic tapping.
He froze. The sound echoed around him, moving closer and farther at the same time, impossible in its origin. Kael's heart thumped in his chest.
From the corner of his vision, a shape emerged. It was small at first, crouched in the shadows, but it stretched unnaturally as it moved, limbs bending in ways human bones could not. Its face was hidden under a featureless mask of darkness, and its movements were deliberate, predatory.
Kael wanted to run, but his legs felt rooted to the shifting ground.
"You're not afraid," it said in a voice that scraped against his mind, not his ears. "Most run. Most die."
"I'm… not most people," Kael said, trying to steady his voice.
"Yet." The word lingered like smoke. The creature tilted its head, considering him. "Yet, yes. That may change."
Kael's pulse raced. The crackline beneath him pulsed in response to the creature's presence. He realized then that the fractures weren't just pathways—they were alive, aware, reacting to everything around them.
Liora's voice echoed in his memory: Some want to claim you.
The creature crouched lower, limbs coiling like spring tension. Kael felt the weight of it pressing against his mind, testing him, trying to unravel him.
He forced his hands into fists. "I won't—"
The creature lunged.
Instinct took over. Kael stepped sideways, the crackline bending and stretching under him like a safety net. He stumbled, then regained his balance. The creature's claws scraped the fractured ground, sparks of light where shadow met shimmer.
It circled him, fast and silent, each movement measured. Kael could feel the pulse of the line under his feet, guiding him, warning him, teaching him. He realized something astonishing: the crackline could protect him, if he learned how to listen.
The creature hissed, tilting its head. "Interesting. Few survive the first encounter."
Kael's stomach tightened, but he forced himself to breathe. He felt the rhythm of the fracture, the subtle vibrations beneath his feet. Step by step, he moved along it, testing its limits, feeling its guidance. The creature mirrored him, stalking silently, measuring, learning.
And then Kael did something he didn't expect: he smiled.
The creature paused, curious.
Good, the line seemed to hum beneath him. You feel. You respond. You survive.
Kael shifted his weight, letting the fracture guide him, and the creature lunged again. This time, he sidestepped with precision, moving almost instinctively along the shimmer of the line. Sparks of shadow collided with the shimmer, and for the first time, Kael felt a thrill of victory.
The creature froze, then dissipated into smoke, leaving only a whisper in his mind: Next time, you won't be so lucky.
Kael exhaled, trembling. The alley stretched before him, calm again, but he knew it wasn't really calm. The cracks had eyes, ears, intentions. The city itself was alive in ways he had never imagined.
He stepped back into the ordinary street, the line beneath him fading, leaving only the illusion of a normal wall. The hum of the city returned, distant traffic, people starting their day, unaware.
Kael leaned against a lamppost, heart pounding. He had survived. He had felt the line respond. He had faced a predator from the cracks—and he had lived.
But he also knew this was only the beginning.
Liora's warning replayed in his mind: You will stumble. You will fear. But the city has already chosen you.
And he realized it was true. The line had chosen him. The fractures had marked him. And something—something patient, something hungry—was already waiting for his next step.
Kael looked at the city stretching before him, familiar yet impossibly strange. The cracks pulsed faintly in the edges of his vision. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and started walking.
Because the line had called him. And he would answer... Not like he had a choice anyway...