A rainy night in Brussels — the streets looked like someone had turned over a pair of black sunglasses, reflecting the sparse streetlights in a cold glare.
I should have been sleeping safe in a safehouse, but Erin dragged me out at midnight. "We've got an insider tip. Go fetch something."
"A midnight courier pickup?" I yawned. "Do I need to sign for it?"
"Shut up. It's important." Erin snapped.
We slipped into a forgotten alley; the graffiti on the walls looked like frozen grimaces. The contact was already gone, leaving only a cheap-looking tin envelope — very spy-movie chic.
I picked it up and shook it. "Hope there's no bomb inside."
Erin snatched it, tore it open, and pulled out a yellowing document. It bore the seals of the Bureau and several governments, and the title jolted me fully awake:
THE SHADOW ACCORD.
On the first page, in cold, hard type:
This accord is secretly concluded between the Bureau and several nation-states. Both parties acknowledge Nightmare energy as a renewable strategic resource. Experiments on Nightmare phenomena are permitted within designated zones, and the right to weaponize such energy is reserved. All casualties are regarded as "necessary sacrifices."
I nearly spat coffee onto the paper. "Wow. This must be that legendary 'humanitarian upside-down.'"
Erin's face went colder than the rain. "So they've been colluding for a long time."
We kept turning pages; each clause felt like a rusty blade:
Nightmare Containers: Authorization to secretly detain experimental subjects.
Military Trials: Authorization to inject Nightmare energy into soldiers, creating "Nightmare units."
Data Blackout: Public communications must categorically deny the existence of Nightmares.
I let out a low laugh. "So everyone's been playing dumb in public while behind the scenes they're nastier than the nightmares themselves."
Erin stared at me hard. "This isn't a joke."
"I know." I spread my hands. "But if I don't laugh a little, I'll probably go insane on the spot."
When we reached the last page, a line in the corner caught my eye:
—This accord was signed in the 'Missing City.'
Erin and I exchanged a look; a coldness crept up from the pit of my stomach. That city that vanished overnight… it had been the venue for their secret summit.
A car engine suddenly sounded in the distance. Black headlights flickered in the rain like the eyes of a predator.
Erin snapped the file shut. "They know we have it."
I sighed and slid the document into my jacket. "Alright then. Act two: clutching deadly intel while the whole world comes after you."
The rain came down harder, like the whole city was covering up the Shadow Accord.
And in my head only one thought remained: this thing could tear the world's masks off.