The rain has eased to a soft drizzle, but the city streets still gleam with wet reflection, and the night air clings cold and sharp against my skin. Mara's footsteps echo softly alongside mine as we navigate the dim, familiar route to my apartment, each step weighed with unspoken fear.
The city is restless, its pulse a muted throb beneath the fading storm. The neon glow from late-night signs flickers in the puddles, fractured and eerie. I'm vigilant, senses stretched thin—every shadow a potential threat, every shuttered window and narrow alley whispering of dangers unseen.
Reaching my building, the chipped paint and rusted metal of its entrance offer no comfort—only the hollow echo of deserted urban decay. Inside, stale air mixed with dust and faint aromas of forgotten meals surrounds us. The buzzing fluorescent lights struggle to hold back the gray shadows.
Mara moves to the window first, her gaze slicing through rain-splattered glass. Something in her posture—the slight tilt of her head, the tightening of her jaw—alerts me instantly.
Her finger points. Across the street, a pale rectangular glow spills from an apartment window. I freeze, heart pounding.
A figure moves within the pool of light. Silhouetted and still, the outline of the man's face is disturbingly familiar. The cuts of his jaw, the sharp fall of his shoulders—it's like staring into a cracked mirror.
My breath stumbles. I'm staring at myself.
"No," I whisper, disbelief snarling in my throat.
Mara tightens her grip on my arm. "It's someone like you. Watching."
Unease twists in my stomach. Doubts I've long buried claw to the surface—how many are out there? How many shadows wear my face? My story?
Before I can process further, my phone vibrates violently. I yank it free: Detective Rana Mehta.
Her voice is tense: "Movement near Vale Dynamics. They're sealing it off. You and Mara—they're coming for you both. You need to disappear."
There's no time for hesitation.
I grab Mara's hand, her fingers trembling but holding fast.
"We don't have a choice. Move. Now."
We descend the stairwell—quick, silent—but the sounds behind us grow closer. Sirens wail faintly now, smeared by the rain's steady fall.
Outside, city lights blur into streaks of color, wet pavement slick beneath our feet. The night presses in, sounds of footsteps and engines weaving a backdrop of menace.
Mara clings to me. "Where do we go?"
"Anywhere but here," I say grimly.
Fear burns bright in her eyes, but so does something fiercer—a defiant spark mirrored in my own.
Together, we disappear into the shifting shadows of a city ready to erase us, or worse: replace us.