Sirens wailed in the distance.
Patrol lights swept across the rooftops of the lower district like hunting eyes. I moved through the shadows, holding my breath each time the metal around me trembled—a nervous response I still couldn’t fully control.
“Don’t go left.”
The voice came without warning.
I turned.
A woman stood beneath a broken streetlamp. Her long coat was simple, yet neat. Her expression was calm—far too calm for someone appearing in the middle of a manhunt.
“Jenny Zarq,” she said. “Leader of the organization known as 1Life.”
The name tightened my chest.
An anti-kingdom organization.
Enemies of the upper families.
Terrorists, according to the media.
“You’re being hunted,” she continued. “By your school. By the kingdom. Even by other Miracle Seats.”
“What do you want?” I asked cautiously.
“Not you,” she replied honestly. “Not yet.”
The iron around us suddenly went still.
No trembling.
No whispering.
“That’s why I’m here,” Jenny said. “To make sure you don’t die tonight.”
The sirens grew closer.
“We’ll meet again, Rinne Alz,” she added, stepping backward into the darkness. “And when that time comes, you’ll come to me on your own.”
I didn’t answer.
But the sense of unease refused to leave.