The Voice Beyond the Door
"CITIZENS OF SILVER CITY—CAN YOU HEAR ME?"
The voice slammed into the air like a war drum—booming, too sharp, too clean, carrying an unnatural weight as it tore through the thick stone walls of the hidden safehouse. It was like thunder dropping out of a clear sky.
Everything stopped.
Plates slipped from fingers and clattered against the floor. Conversations died mid-sentence. Even the children—crying or playing only moments before—went rigid, wide-eyed. Little bodies stilled as parents pulled them close without thinking, hands curling protectively over small shoulders. Soldiers turned sharply toward the sound, muscles tightening. Maids froze in place. In the dim underground shelter, buried deep beneath the ruins of a fallen city, the tension didn't just rise—it sparked, then spread, catching fast, the way fire runs through dry grass.
And Leon…
