The old book shouldn't have existed.
Kael found it beneath a loose floorboard while delivering a package to a crumbling bookstore that had been closed for nearly twenty years.
The owner was nowhere to be found.
Only dust.
Dust and silence.
Then...
A thud.
A book dropped onto the floor by itself.
Its black leather cover bore no author's name.
No title.
Only three words burned into the leather.
Just Another Tale.
"...That's strange."
Kael reached for it.
The moment his fingers touched the cover, every candle in the building died.
Darkness swallowed the room.
A whisper echoed beside his ear.
"You're late."
Kael spun around.
Nobody.
His heartbeat thundered.
When he looked back down, the book had opened itself.
Blank pages.
Every single one.
Then...
Letters slowly bled across the paper.
Tomorrow, Kael Rowan will die at exactly 4:17 p.m.
He laughed.
"What kind of joke..."
The ink continued moving.
He won't believe this.
He'll walk through the East Market anyway.
He'll notice a little girl chasing a red balloon.
He'll hesitate.
That hesitation will save his life.
Kael slammed the book shut.
"Nope."
He placed it back where he found it.
Walked outside.
And forgot about it.
Until the next afternoon.
At exactly 4:16 p.m...
A little girl ran past him.
A red balloon slipped from her hand.
Kael froze.
His stomach dropped.
The book.
A deafening explosion ripped through the market.
Stone rained from the sky.
People screamed.
Where Kael had been standing one second earlier...
Nothing remained.
Only shattered pavement.
He stared in horror.
4:17 p.m.
Exactly.
Someone behind him whispered...
"You weren't supposed to survive."