As the conversation in the room came to an uneasy halt, a shadow shifted beneath a nearby table, drawing Rosa's attention. Her heart gave a sudden, sharp lurch. A prickling sense of anticipation spread through her skin, urging her forward.

Instinctively, she stepped closer, holding her breath as a dark form materialised, weaving between a cluster of avatars absorbed in their conversations. Slowly, the figure emerged from the shadows, and her pulse quickened. Rowan.

His form was unmistakable. His sleek, obsidian-black fur caught the light in a soft, almost liquid sheen, the subtle ripples of muscle beneath lending him an air of quiet power. His long limbs moved with a fluid grace, each step deliberate, his deep-set eyes gleaming with that eerie, familiar spark - a mix of curiosity and knowing. His crest, an elegant tuft arching from the crown of his head, bristled faintly as if he, too, sensed the weight of the moment.

"Rowan?" Rosa’s hands instinctively reached out, her disbelief giving way to something close to awe. “I thought we’d lost you...”

Roan and Mist watched her, their eyes catching sight of the macaque, and in an instant, the atmosphere changed. Roan’s face paled, his stance rigid, and Mist’s brow furrowed in confusion.

Rosa, eager to bridge the gap between past and present, rushed to explain, her voice full of fervour. “This macaque - this is Rowan! One of the Paignton Zoo macaques, part of the experiments! I thought we’d lost him, but he's here - he's real! I mean, not just a virtual avatar somehow... He's real out there too... In real life, I mean." Her words faltered as the weight of it hit her anew.

Before anyone could respond, Rowan leapt gracefully onto the table with a fluid, almost casual motion, landing with a soft thud. His eyes locked with hers, unblinking and unwavering, acknowledging her just as she acknowledged him.

But Roan’s reaction was not what she expected. His face tightened, his breath shallow, and he pushed his chair back, his gaze locked on the monkey with an intensity that made Rosa’s chest tighten. There was something unsettling in his stillness.

"Wait - what’s going on?" Rosa's voice broke the tense silence. She looked between Roan and the macaque, a chill creeping through her veins. Why was Roan afraid?

For a moment, Roan didn’t speak. His eyes were fixed on the black macaque, but there was something haunted in them, something that Rosa couldn’t quite place. Finally, he took a deep breath and spoke, his voice tight, as though the words were a struggle. "We have to go," he said, his voice edged with panic. "Now."

Mist, who seemed uncertain as to the source of the tension, asked, “Why? What’s happening?”

Roan’s lips pressed into a thin line, his gaze never wavering from Rowan, as if there were something in the macaque's stare that could unravel him. "I'll explain another time," he said, his voice low. "This isn't just a macaque. It’s him. Don’t - don’t let him get too close."

Rosa was stunned. What did Rowan represent to him? Was the shared name too much for him?

Never lay bare your breast secret... Dickette's place! It felt like a whisper from the depths of the past, a warning not to reveal too much, not to trust too easily, not to allow the unspoken to rise. To joy a Jonas in the Dolphin's Barncar with your meetual fan, Doveyed Covetfilles...

Rosa glanced at Rowan, at the dark eyes that seemed to hold centuries of stories, and the tension spiralled. She didn’t know why the words came to mind, but they were there, pulling at something deep within. She felt a shiver trail down her spine.

Rowan stood on all fours, moving deliberately, his dark eyes locked with Roan’s, as if challenging him, calling him back to a dangerous place. The silence between them was palpable, and the room seemed to shrink. It wasn’t just a macaque that stood before them - it was a symbol, a harbinger, an echo of things past.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Roan’s voice cracked as he finally turned away, his jaw clenched. "This is why Gum tried to leave it all behind," he muttered. "You have no idea what you're dealing with. It's him..."

The words hung in the air, heavy with dread.

Mist’s confusion deepened. "Who?" she asked, her voice sharp now. "What are you talking about?"

Rosa’s heart pounded. She couldn’t understand what was happening - why Roan was so visibly shaken by Rowan’s presence.

Roan’s face was drawn, his eyes haunted. He turned to Mist, his voice hoarse, barely above a whisper. "We need to leave. Now. It’s not safe."

Rosa stood frozen, torn between the need for answers and the urgency in Roan’s voice. What did Rowan know? What did Roan know?

Rowan’s gaze remained steady on Roan, and the unease in the air thickened. Something was unfolding - something Rosa wasn’t prepared for, something that felt as though it had been expected long before they had arrived.

Mist reached out for Roan’s hand and they were gone, headed for the cylinder lift, hurrying between the tables.

The weight of the moment felt suffocating. Rowan’s unblinking stare followed the couple, watching them disappear as the cylinder doors closed around them.

Selina was rigid, her mouth slightly agape. "What was all that?" Selina’s voice was barely a whisper, her words hanging in the still air like a fragile thread.

Rosa didn’t respond immediately. Her heart thudded against her ribs.

Selina noticed Rosa's hesitation. "What’s wrong?"

"How is it possible?" Rosa said. "Here we are, in a place called Dolphin’s Barncar revealing our secrets to a guy called Jonas."

"I don't understand," Selina replied.

"Finnegans Wake!" Rosa hissed. "The passage Gum marked. It's all happening - even Whalebones the doorman.”

Selina was about to point out the absurdity of looking for meaning in such things when the central lift doors slid open. A presence inside silenced the court in seconds.

As it stepped out, the room itself seemed to recoil. The neon haze flickered, dimming in submission.

It moved with an eerie, deliberate grace, sharp joints whispering against themselves, in an unnerving series of soft clicks, like a spider testing its web. The subdued light outlined its frame, a gaunt, skeletal form straddling the line between some once-humanoid construct and the rigid, segmented plating of a crustacean.

Its white matte panels clung to a deeper framework of polished, ivory-like struts - seemingly calcified, as though real bones had been woven into its construction. Its fingers, too numerous and too precise, flexed with the unsettling grace of a surgeon’s instruments, each motion a silent recalibration.

What passed for a face was an oblong mask of smooth, translucent material, like enamel stretched too thin over a hollow skull. No features. No eyes. Its surface rippled with a shifting glow of deep cerulean, like bioluminescence trapped beneath a frozen lake. Symbols scrolled along its plating, reconfiguring in an endless, unreadable script, as though it was rewriting itself with every step.

The bar held its breath. Even the air itself seemed to thicken. No one moved. Except Roan.

The black macaque tensed, his fur bristling. His wide, intelligent eyes flicked from the entity to the exits, his breath coming in quick, sharp bursts. He made a low, uneasy noise - barely audible over the hum of the neon. Then, in a blur of movement, he was gone.

Rosa barely registered it. One moment, he was there, clutching the edge of the table. The next, he had slipped into shadow, vanishing between the shifting light.

A cold weight settled in her gut.

"Rowan…" she started, but Selina grabbed her wrist, tightening her grip just enough to warn her. Now was not the time.

“The Auditant,” she heard someone whisper.

It approached one of the patrons, a woman with iridescent cybernetic wings. She stiffened as the Auditant loomed over her. It inclined its head, a pulse of light washing over her form. Her avatar flickered, strands of code momentarily exposed - then, green. A quiet confirmation. She was authorised. The Auditant moved on.

A brute with obsidian horns, poring over a handscreen was next. His fingers curled into fists as the scan rolled over him. A longer pause this time - then, another flicker of green. Verified.

A hacker-type - thin, jittery, his gaze darting - was not so well received. When the Auditant reached him, the scan pulsed once, twice - then turned red.

The hacker made a run for it. He didn’t wait for the consequence.

Too late.

The Auditant raised a single hand. His avatar froze mid-stride, code fracturing in real time. The air filled with a sharp, crystalline shatter as he was ripped from the system, forcibly ejected into the void.

The Auditant turned. Unphased.

Rosa barely dared to breathe.