Chapter 1: Night of the Broken Sky
The city didn't sleep.
Even past midnight, sirens wailed like lullabies, the neon lights flickered like broken dreams, and somewhere in the distance, someone yelled about a stolen wallet. Rayven Cole leaned against his sputtering motorbike, a half-crushed paper bag of chicken skewers balanced on his lap. Another late-night delivery done. Another night not getting mugged. A win, by his standards.
He glanced up at the sky. No stars—just clouds, pollution, and the dull orange glow of the city's eternal insomnia.
"One more job," he muttered, wiping sweat from his brow. "Then maybe I can afford a sandwich that isn't eighty percent bread."
The old district of Dormark was quiet tonight. Too quiet.
Rayven revved the bike's engine and turned onto Hollow Bend Avenue. The buildings here leaned like tired drunks—windows boarded, graffiti scrawled across the bricks like the city itself was trying to say something and no one was listening.
Then the air changed.
It was sudden. Sharp. Like the moment right before lightning strikes. The hairs on Rayven's arms stood up.
The wind stilled.
Then—
BOOM.
The sky cracked open.
A thunderous roar shook the earth as a streak of blue-white light shot across the heavens and smashed into the abandoned industrial zone just two blocks away. The shockwave hit Rayven a second later, slamming into his chest and throwing him and the bike to the ground.
Everything went silent.
The world… paused.
Rayven lay there, gasping, ears ringing, eyes wide.
"What the hell—"
His words cut off.
From the crash site, a pulse of light radiated outward—soft, glowing, like a heartbeat. It passed through the city like a wave. Windows rattled. Streetlights flickered. The graffiti on the walls shimmered.
Then the city whispered.
Not out loud. Not with words. But in his mind. Like an echo sliding under his skin.
He is awake.
Rayven stumbled to his feet, shaking. "Who's awake?" he asked the night.
No answer.
He looked down at his hand. The skin on his right palm glowed faintly, a strange, rune-like mark burned into it, still pulsing with warmth.
"I need to get out of here," he muttered.
But his feet moved toward the crash site.
Ten minutes later, he stood at the edge of the crater.
The buildings nearby were scorched black. Concrete had melted. But at the center of the impact zone stood a monolith—smooth, metallic, taller than a man, covered in glowing runes that pulsed in rhythm with the mark on Rayven's hand.
He approached cautiously, heart pounding.
Each step felt heavier, like the city itself was pushing back.
Suddenly, something shifted behind him.
Rayven turned—
Too late.
A shape lunged from the shadows. Fast. Inhuman. Long limbs. Skin like tar. Eyes glowing with violet flame.
It slammed him to the ground.
Rayven struggled, fists pounding against what felt like solid stone. The creature snarled, jagged teeth inches from his throat.
I'm going to die.
The mark on his palm ignited, flooding his arm with heat.
And just as suddenly, the creature was gone.
Thrown back by a wave of invisible force.
Rayven gasped, scrambling to his feet. "What… what was that?!"
The creature hissed, stalking toward him again.
He backed away. "Nope. Screw this."
It lunged again—
And was stopped mid-air.
By a blade.
A woman stood between them, sword gleaming in the moonlight, her eyes cold as the steel in her hand. She wore a dark cloak, embroidered with a symbol Rayven didn't recognize.
The creature writhed on the tip of her blade before dissolving into black mist.
The woman didn't look at him. She simply said, "You shouldn't be here."
Rayven stared. "Who the hell are you?"
She finally turned to him. Her gaze pierced through him like frost. "Someone who just saved your life."
"Thanks for that," he muttered. "But I could've handled it."
She raised an eyebrow. "With what? Your charming personality?"
"…Fair point."
She lowered the blade but didn't sheath it. "You have the mark. It's started, then."
"What's started?"
She stepped closer, inspecting the symbol on his palm. "The city has chosen. You've been awakened. Whether you're ready or not."
Rayven blinked. "Awakened? What does that even mean?"
She gave a half-smile, humorless and tired. "It means your life just became a warzone."
A faint rumble echoed beneath their feet.
She turned toward the monolith, expression grave. "This is only the beginning."
And far above them, the sky pulsed again—soft blue veins spiderwebbing across the night sky.
The city was alive. And it had just woken up.