Cael didn't run.
Not immediately.
Because something inside him knew—
Running would not create distance.
The Hunter was not bound by space.
He was bound by imbalance.
And imbalance—
Was everywhere Cael stood.
The city moved normally around them.
Vendors shouted.
Engines hummed.
Screens flickered with news no one would remember tomorrow.
But between those sounds—
There was a quiet shift.
Like a story adjusting its direction.
"Cael…" the girl whispered.
She didn't know what was coming.
But she felt the wrongness.
He nodded once.
"We're leaving."
Not panic.
Not desperation.
Decision.
They turned into a narrow side street.
The moment they did—
A man stepped into the opposite end.
He hadn't been there before.
No footsteps.
No sound.
Just—
Presence.
Tall.
Composed.
Unhurried.
His gaze settled on Cael.
No hostility.
No anger.
Just recognition.
Like a mathematician seeing an unsolved equation.
The girl froze.
"Who is that?"
Cael's voice was quiet.
"I don't think he's here to talk."
The Hunter stepped forward.
Reality adjusted with him.
The flicker of a neon sign stabilized as he passed.
A stray newspaper that had been drifting—
Fell still.
Even time itself—
Seemed to align.
Not stopping.
Not bending.
Agreeing.
"You are outside sequence," the Hunter said.
His voice wasn't loud.
But it carried.
Not through air—
Through certainty.
The girl looked at Cael.
"What does that mean?"
He didn't answer.
Because the question wasn't for her.
It was for him.
"And you are?" Cael asked.
The Hunter paused.
As if considering how to simplify something too vast.
"I am what remains when correction is necessary."
A chill spread through the street.
Not cold.
Order.
"You shouldn't exist," the Hunter continued.
No accusation.
No emotion.
Just fact.
The fractured light on Cael's wrist pulsed.
Paths flickered.
Run.
Fight.
Borrow.
Disappear.
But something else emerged.
Stand.
"Then why am I still here?" Cael asked.
The Hunter regarded him.
"For the same reason storms gather before they break."
A step forward.
The air grew heavier.
"You are being evaluated."
The girl grabbed Cael's arm.
"We should go."
He didn't move.
Because the paths—
Had narrowed.
Running now—
Led only to worse endings.
"Evaluation for what?" he asked.
The Hunter stopped a few paces away.
Up close—
He looked ordinary.
Too ordinary.
Like someone history had erased and reinserted without detail.
"For continuation," the Hunter said.
A pause.
"Or removal."
The words carried no threat.
Only outcome.
Cael swallowed.
"Can I refuse?"
The Hunter tilted his head slightly.
"You already did."
Silence stretched.
The girl's grip tightened.
"Cael…"
He felt it again.
The fracture in time.
Not pulling.
Waiting.
Choice—
Still his.
"What happens if I fail?" he asked.
The Hunter answered immediately.
"You will not."
Not reassurance.
Certainty.
"Because failure implies uncertainty."
Another step.
"And you are not uncertain."
The world seemed to lean closer.
"Then what am I?" Cael asked.
For the first time—
The Hunter's expression shifted.
Interest.
"You are the question."
And questions—
Changed futures.
The fractured light blazed suddenly.
Paths exploded across Cael's vision.
This wasn't escape.
This—
Was a test.
And far above—
The observers leaned in.
Because this moment—
Would decide something far greater than survival.
Not whether Cael could live.
But whether unpredictability—
Had a place in reality.