Chapter One: Urban
The rain came down like broken glass, sharp and dirty. Neon lights smeared against puddles on the cracked pavement, painting the alley in colors too bright to belong here.
Kai coughed, dragging himself up from the wet ground. A second ago, he'd been standing in his room, holding that cursed book. Now—now the air stank of oil, trash, and something coppery, like fresh blood.
The alley was alive. Sirens screamed somewhere in the distance. Music thumped low and heavy through a concrete wall. From the shadows, a spray-painted mural of a wolf seemed to watch him.
"Hey."
Kai turned. Three guys were leaning against a chain-link fence at the mouth of the alley. Hoodies up, faces half-hidden, but their eyes glittered like knives. One of them flicked a cigarette butt to the ground and ground it out with his shoe.
"You new?" the tallest asked. His voice was slow, like he enjoyed stretching out the moment. "Ain't seen you around. You from East Nine or South Blocks?"
Kai's mouth went dry. East Nine? South Blocks? He didn't even know what city this was.
"I… uh—"
The shortest one laughed, mean and sharp. "He don't know. Look at him, he's fresh meat."
They stepped closer, the kind of casual walk predators use when they already know the prey won't get away.
"Fresh meat pays a toll," the tall one said. "You got cash, phone, anything shiny? Hand it over, and maybe you get to keep breathing."
Kai's heart hammered. His pockets were empty. No wallet. No phone. Just the damn book—except it wasn't there anymore. His hands were bare.
The rain fell harder.
One of the gang pulled a knife. The neon light kissed the blade.
Kai swallowed, every instinct screaming at him to run, but his legs refused. His mind flashed back to the book's words:
This is not a story you read. This is a story you survive.
And then, behind him, a voice whispered in the rain.
"You don't belong here. But if you want to live, fight."