The letter at my feet glowed hotter than the streetlights, fissures spreading outward like veins of fire.
"Choose."
The command seeped into my bones, louder than the hum, louder than the creature's scream. My chest tightened. What did it mean? Choose what?
The faceless thing loomed, dripping itself down the street like tar given hunger. Its thousand mouths opened and closed in silence, ready to swallow the space between us.
The word on my palm flickered weakly, the last remnants of "Stop" unraveling. I knew once it faded, I'd have nothing.
And then—another letter fell. This one split in two, forming twin glowing fragments. Each piece pulsed with a different rhythm, like two beating hearts waiting for mine to match.
The left symbol bled red. I understood its meaning at once:
"Fight."
The right symbol shone pale white. Its meaning pressed colder into me:
"Flee."
My breath came ragged. My whole life, I had been running—from jobs, from people, from every decision that might have defined me. And now, the world itself was demanding I make the one thing I'd never been able to make: a choice.
The faceless thing collapsed forward, stretching across the pavement like an ocean of masks. The hum rattled every bone in my body. I had seconds—less.
The letters flared, waiting. My palm burned as though it would split apart if I stayed undecided.
For the first time, I didn't think. I chose.
I reached for—