Chapter 4: Welcome to the Edge
The bridge to Edge City wasn't made of stone or metal—it was made of light. A single, glowing beam stretched across a bottomless pit. Noah peeked over the edge, instantly regretting it. There was no ground—just swirling darkness, like an ocean of ink that went on forever.
"Don't look down," Lyra said casually as she stepped onto the beam.
"Yeah, great advice. I'll just… stare at the impossible glowing death road instead," Noah muttered, trying not to wobble as he followed her.
Halfway across, the light shifted under his feet, rippling like water.
"Uh… Lyra?!" Noah yelped.
"Keep moving," she said. "It likes to test new people."
"It what?!"
The light trembled again, and Noah ran the rest of the way before it could throw him off. He stumbled onto the floating platform that marked the city's edge, gasping.
Lyra grinned. "You're fun to watch."
Noah glared. "Glad I can provide quality entertainment while I almost die."
The Veilwalkers
Edge City was alive in a way Noah didn't understand. The buildings pulsed faintly like they were breathing. Runes glimmered on every surface, shifting as if rewriting themselves. Strange figures walked the streets—humans, probably, but wrapped in coats, armor, or masks covered in symbols like Lyra's. Some had floating objects circling them—spheres, shards, glowing crystals.
"These are the Veilwalkers?" Noah asked, lowering his voice.
"Some of them," Lyra said. "The rest are drifters. People who crossed over by accident but didn't die. Most of them don't last long."
That wasn't comforting. At all.
They stopped in front of a building that looked like a church made of broken mirrors. The front door was guarded by two figures in black armor, their helmets shaped like bird skulls.
Lyra tilted her head. "We've got a new one," she told the guards.
One of them looked Noah up and down, then nodded silently and pushed the door open.
Inside, the air was heavy with the scent of old smoke and something metallic. A circle of Veilwalkers sat around a glowing table. They all turned to look at Noah.
"Who's the kid?" a tall man asked, leaning back in his chair. His face was covered by a mask of cracked porcelain, but his voice was deep and smooth.
"New Veilwalker," Lyra said. "Just came through the 47th Street mirror."
"Still alive, huh? Impressive," the man said, as if Noah wasn't standing there.
Another voice, sharp and female, cut in. "Does he have a key yet?"
Lyra gestured to Noah's hand. "Yeah. A coin."
The room murmured at that.
Noah looked between them. "Why do I feel like I'm being judged at a talent show I didn't sign up for?"
"Because you are," the man in the porcelain mask said. "If you can't survive your first mission, we won't waste time training you."
"Mission?!" Noah repeated. "I'm not even sure I can survive walking down a hallway in this place!"
Lyra smirked. "Don't worry. I'll babysit you."
"That doesn't make me feel better!"
The Assignment
The porcelain-masked man—who Lyra called "Ash"—tapped the table. A holographic map flickered to life, showing a crackling rift in the shape of a jagged wound.
"A new breach opened near the Gravewater Swamps," Ash said. "If it spreads, things worse than mirror phantoms will come through."
Lyra nodded. "We'll take care of it."
"We?" Noah asked.
"Congratulations," Lyra said with a grin. "You're coming with me."