The city never slept. Its heartbeat was a relentless thrum, pulsing through every street and alley. I moved in its shadows, slipping through the cracks of this unfamiliar world like smoke.

The serpents were restless tonight. Their hisses rose in a low, rhythmic hum, echoing my unease. My feet carried me forward, though I didn’t know where I was going. This new world was a labyrinth of stone and glass, its paths tangled and endless.

I avoided the crowds where I could, ducking into alleys and narrow streets where the glow of the strange lights didn’t reach. The humans here were oblivious to the darkness around them, their faces lit by their glowing devices, their voices drowned in the noise of machines.

My breath fogged in the cold air as I passed a window, the faint reflection of my glowing eyes catching my attention. I looked away quickly, pulling my hood tighter around my face. Even in this world, I couldn’t let them see me.

Yet something felt off tonight.

I had sensed the change before I could name it, a shift in the air that made the serpents coil and hiss. It wasn’t just the fear of being seen—it was something deeper, a presence that prickled at the edges of my awareness.

The gods were silent, but the echoes of their power lingered. I felt it in the faint hum beneath my feet, in the way the air seemed to pulse with something unseen. This city was not just a place of mortals.

My steps faltered as I turned a corner and found myself standing before a massive building. Its sharp, angular design glinted under the harsh lights, its windows reflecting the faint glow of the city. Above its entrance was a name I didn’t recognize, written in glowing letters that pulsed faintly.

But what drew me in wasn’t the building’s grandeur. It was the feeling—a pull, like the tug of a distant tide. Something inside called to me, a presence that was both familiar and foreign.

I hesitated, my hand brushing the hilt of a dagger I had taken from the ruins. I didn’t understand this place or the strange power that emanated from it, but I couldn’t turn away.

The entrance loomed before me, and with a deep breath, I stepped inside.

The air was cold, sterile, and thick with the hum of machinery. The walls were smooth and metallic, their surfaces reflecting the faint light of the corridors. My footsteps echoed softly as I moved forward, the serpents hissing in quiet protest.

The pull grew stronger with every step, guiding me deeper into the heart of the building.

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

It wasn’t long before I found it—a room bathed in soft, blue light. The walls were lined with shelves, each one filled with objects I didn’t recognize. The faint hum of energy was louder here, vibrating through the floor and into my bones.

At the centre of the room stood a pedestal, and atop it rested a small, glowing object.

My breath hitched as I stepped closer, the pull intensifying. The serpents stirred, their hisses rising in a sharp crescendo. I reached out hesitantly, my fingers brushing the surface of the object.

A sudden rush of heat shot through me, and the world tilted.

Visions flooded my mind—flashes of faces I didn’t recognize, places I’d never seen. A temple shrouded in shadow. A figure standing before a throne, their features obscured by blinding light. The sound of laughter, sharp and cruel, echoed in my ears.

And then, a voice.

“You are not alone.”

The words were faint like a whisper carried on the wind, but they sent a chill down my spine. My hand snapped back, and the glowing object dimmed, its light fading to a faint flicker.

I staggered, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps. The room was spinning, the weight of the visions pressing down on me like a tidal wave.

What was this place? And what had I just seen?

Before I could make sense of it, a sharp sound cut through the air—a metallic click, followed by the steady hum of footsteps.

My head shot up, and I turned toward the entrance. Shadows shifted beyond the doorway, and my heart raced as the serpents hissed in warning.

I had been followed.

The footsteps grew louder, and I gripped the dagger at my side. The faint glow of the room’s light cast a long shadow across the floor as the figure stepped into view.

It was a man, tall and broad-shouldered, with dark hair and sharp, calculating eyes. His gaze locked on me instantly, and a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Well, well,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “I didn’t expect to find you here.”

I didn’t answer. My grip on the dagger tightened as I took a step back, the serpents coiling and snapping in warning.

He raised his hands, palms up as if to show he meant no harm. “Easy now. I’m not here to hurt you.”

“Who are you?” I demanded, my voice sharp.

His smirk widened. “Let’s just say I’m... an observer. Someone who’s been keeping an eye on you.”

My heart pounded, anger flaring in my chest. “Why?”

“Because you’re not the only one who doesn’t belong here,” he said, his tone light but his gaze piercing. “This city has its secrets, and you’re one of them.”

I stepped closer, my dagger raised. “Stay back.”

He didn’t move, but his expression grew serious. “If you want answers, you’ll need to trust me. There are others who won’t be as... understanding as I am.”

I hesitated, my thoughts racing. The pull of the glowing object, the visions, the strange presence in this city—it was too much to ignore. And now, this man, with his cryptic words and calm demeanour, was offering answers.

The serpents hissed, their unease mirroring my own.

“I don’t trust you,” I said finally, my voice steady.

He nodded as if he had expected that. “Fair enough. But trust this: if you stay here, they will find you. And they won’t be nearly as polite as I am.”

His words sent a chill through me. I didn’t know who “they” were, but I knew I couldn’t take the risk.

“Fine,” I said, lowering the dagger slightly. “But if you try anything—”

“I won’t,” he interrupted, his smirk returning. “You have my word.”

Reluctantly, I followed him out of the room, the serpents quiet but watchful. The air outside was colder now, the city’s hum louder as we stepped into the streets.

For the first time since my awakening, I wasn’t alone.