The wind howled across the rooftop of the abandoned skyscraper like it was trying to carry away the sins of the city below. Cain stood at the edge, hands clasped behind his back, crimson eyes sweeping over the glittering sprawl of lights that stretched into the horizon. Neon bled into the night, cars moved like blood cells through concrete veins, and somewhere down there, thousands of fragile lives continued their dance—ignorant of the ancient forces watching them.
He had chosen this place deliberately. High enough to see everything. Isolated enough that no one would stumble upon him. For centuries, Cain had learned the value of perspective. From up here, the endless war with his brother felt almost small. Manageable. A problem that could be solved with the right pressure at the right moment.
But tonight, the weight in his chest refused to lighten.
