A thunderous crack tore through the city.
Not thunder. Not anything natural.
It sounded like the world itself had flinched.
Birds scattered.
Windows shuddered.
I fell out of bed, still tangled in my hoodie.
Then light.
Not sunlight. Not warmth.
It poured through the cracks like blood from a wound.
The Gate of Reflections had opened again.
I didn't need to look. I could feel it.
Like the world was bracing, but didn't know what for.
Every time it opened, the city got quieter. Not from fear, exactly. From memory.
Everyone knew what it meant.
For a second, I just lay there, blinking at the ceiling.
It was always surreal. Divine. A wake-up call from the heavens.
And with it, another soul was Marked, cursed with a one-way ticket to the nightmare realm known as the Reverie.
I used to wonder what it felt like. For someone close to be taken by the Reverie. Now, I just hoped it wouldn't be her.
Not now. Not ever.
Not when I still hadn't said what mattered.
And that's how it went. The world didn't stop. Even when it probably should have.
The thunder faded into a low hum, blanketing the city with white noise. Soon it would settle. The shard would go still. And the city would pretend it woke peacefully.
Halden woke with the Gate.
And I woke with a headache.
My head still echoed from last night. The music, neon and engine fumes. Maybe staying out late the night before the start of the new semester wasn't exactly my brightest idea.
I finally got off the floor, pulling off my hoodie, and reminded myself I was a taken man.
Or at least thought I was.
No good morning message today. Again.
We hadn't seen each other all break. Anya's messages had gone from delayed... to missing. Just one text, twenty-eight days ago.
I won't be able to talk or meet up. Sorry.
I knew that love wasn't about keeping count. But I couldn't help it.
Days, unread messages, moments she didn't need me.
She always had reasons. Her aunt, studio practice… Silence.
I never pushed.
But this time... it didn't just feel like she was far.
It felt like she had disappeared completely.
Anya couldn't have been Marked. I would've known. Would've felt it.
Unless that's how it always went. First silence. Then gone.
I stared at our chat. Hovered. Sent her a sticker.
Just another lifeline in the sea of double-texts and unread gifs.
She was probably fine. She always said I worried too much.
But now, even the silence had started to crack. Thin but growing.
I should've known where she was.
Boyfriend or not.
Even if she didn't want me to.
I reached for my wallet. Brushed the worn photo behind my ID: Anya, mid-laugh, hair wild, squinting into the sun.
I took it with her instant camera, an old one from before the war she became obsessed with after finding it in a box of her parents' things.
Said real moments deserved to be real things. Now it was just a ghost in my pocket.
Of her. Of me.
Of the version of us that hadn't started fraying at the edges.
—
By now I was showered, dressed, and staring at my reflection.
For a moment, I looked… solid. Like someone who could hold things together. Not shredded, but no longer the scrawny kid Anya had met. The gym had paid off. Kind of.
I flexed once, then let it drop with a sigh.
A hairline crack in the upper corner of the mirror, catching the light. Barely visible. Easy to miss. But it sliced the edge clean.
I didn't remember it being there before. I leaned in.
Something felt off.
Not tired. Not angry. Just… not quite here.
It felt like there was a lag in my movements in the mirror. As if I was watching someone else from behind the glass.
And I wasn't sure who blinked first.
—
I headed downstairs to join Dad at the table. He was watching the news. Something about a politician ranting about the Gutter.
"They're all corrupt, Dio," he said without looking at me.
He would know. He worked for them.
"Just keep your sister away from anywhere sketchy," he muttered. "Especially the lower wards. Gutter kids are getting bold lately."
I nodded. Even if half the stories were exaggerations, that place made my skin crawl.
Halden's worst-kept secret, a black market stitched beneath the city, where anything could be bought if you paid enough or bled enough.
Horror stories of girls going missing weren't urban legends. They were weekly news.
"I work hard so you kids never have to go near a place like that. And one day, you'll need to do the same for your family."
He said it as advice. But lately, it sounded more like a contract I never signed.
Through the window, dawn light caught on the monorail spine cutting through the skyline, its glass compartments already humming to life.
Beneath it, the streets yawned open, vendors dragging carts, surveillance drones weaving past traffic.
The city kept moving.
High above, the shard still bled light. It made the apartment feel… exposed.
Lyra, my twin sister, came down the stairs just as he finished. She gave me an amused smirk and headed straight for the fridge, holding up the milk in silent question.
I shook my head. Probably better not to get hooked on caffeine again.
She poured her usual cup of coffee and joined us at the table.
The kitchen always felt too quiet in the mornings.
Three seats taken.
One left untouched.
Lyra mostly ignored it, except for the glances she thought we didn't notice.
I pretended not to notice.
She held her coffee with both hands, like it was the only warm thing left in the house. I was annoyed she never got her license.
But secretly… I was glad.
Driving Lyra meant I always knew where she was. What she was doing. Who she was with.
It wasn't like she told me everything, not anymore… but it helped.
Gave me peace of mind.
Just in case.
Now she just puts in her headphones and laughs at her phone.
Dad always said you protect what matters.
Well… someone in this house had to take it seriously.
Because if I didn't, then who would?
She somehow had better grades than me.
Still made time for ballet three times a week.
And ran the damn committee like it didn't exhaust her.
At least her dance studio was near the gym.
—
For the first time, I was driving us to school.
Lyra leaned forward from the passenger seat, eyes catching on my photo of Anya.
"Hey, have you shown Anya our car yet? What'd she say?"
I didn't have the heart to admit Anya had basically ghosted me all break.
"She's been busy. Anyway, it's my car."
"Nuh uh," Lyra said, already on her phone. "Dad bought it for both of us."
"Until you get your license, it's mine."
"You know we don't even need one," she muttered, eyes flicking up to the monorail as it wove between the towers, sleek, silent, always on time. "Trams are faster."
I shrugged. "Maybe. But this says more."
She rolled her eyes, but didn't argue.
In Halden, everyone understood the difference between moving and arriving.
"Well, I guess that makes you my personal chauffeur. But seriously, are you sure you didn't show Anya the car? You came home late last night. And it smells weird."
I smelt it too. Sweat.
Probably left my gym towel in the backseat again. I decided to leave her in the dark for this line of questioning.
Time to change the subject.
"What's up with you and that student president guy? Heard you two were spending a lot of time together last term."
I threw it casually, like it just came to me. But really, I'd been holding onto it, waiting.
With Lyra, you learn to stay armed.
She blinked, cheeks flushing. "Wh-where's this coming from?"
I smirked, keeping my eyes on the road. I didn't like the guy. He was too perfect, handsome, popular, and always surrounded by girls. The rest of the committee was just a bunch of lovestruck hopefuls. I just didn't want her getting hurt.
Lucky then, that she had a brother who could protect her.
"Well, if you must know... I do think there's something between us."
I nearly slammed the brakes.
"HUH? Since when?! Why didn't you tell me?"
The signs had been there. Late nights at school. Constant phone checks. Puppy eyes from the president whenever she walked by. Still, I hadn't expected it.
She burst out laughing.
"You're too easy," she said, smug as ever, flipping her hair back. "Eitan of the Hale Legacy? Please. That guy's never had a real conversation in his life. Everything he says feels like it was pre-approved by his family lawyer."
She rolled her eyes, tone laced with amusement but edged with something else. Disgust, maybe. Or caution.
"He asked me to dinner once," she continued, mimicking his velvet tone. "'Lyra, would you care to accompany me to a quiet, neutral location?' Like, is he trying to date me or negotiate a ceasefire?"
I didn't smile. "Guys like him don't ask unless they already think they own the answer." My hands tightened on the wheel.
She arched an eyebrow. "Says the guy who thinks being my chauffeur gives him the right to vet my love life."
I winced, just slightly. Maybe I was pushing.
But she knew everything about my life.
She always had. And I was her brother.
Wasn't it my job to care?
"Honestly, you act like I'm the one who needs protecting. But you're the one who can't sleep if everyone isn't tucked in."
I didn't say anything.
My thoughts drifted, uninvited, back to my own first date with Anya at the meadow. Me, awkward and nervous, trying to 'make a move' with the classic arm stretch on a bench, her giggle, the way she leaned in closer.
If something happened to her and I wasn't there, it wouldn't matter why. I'd never forgive myself.
She was strong. Smarter than me, braver than most.
But that didn't mean the world would go easy on her.
—
Even this far out, Halden was immaculate.
No slums. No trash. Not even a cracked pavement stone.
Just spotless streets and glass façades polished to a shine, like the whole city was daring you to find a flaw.
Above, the drones drifted, silent, constant.
Guardians that never blinked.
You couldn't tell if you felt safe… or watched.
As we turned off the highway, the skyline shifted, and there it was, in the sky.
The Citadel of Mirrors.
Even now, even though it had been there since before I was born, it still made my chest tighten.
A titanic shard of obsidian, impossibly dark and jagged, stabbed down from the clouds like the world had been cracked from above. That shard was the ground the Citadel itself stood on, with the gateway to the Reverie inside.
It didn't belong. None of them did.
We expanded the city under it.
Roads.
Office towers.
A mall.
Tourists took pictures with it in the background like it was a sculpture, not a threat.
Once, I even saw a guy propose in the plaza under it. The light caught the ring like a blessing. I couldn't tell if that was terrifying or comforting.
Lyra didn't say anything. Why would she?
This was just another normal day in Halden.
There were Citadels all over the world now. Another one had cracked open near the southern coast a few weeks ago.
The first confirmed in years. That made seven total now. Everyone was saying it would be the last.
Right. Because the world stopped at seven.
But there was something about that number that felt… final.
Some survivors came back. People were already saying they weren't right. But Dad said they always say that.
"Stop the CAR!"
Her voice snapped me out of it. I hit the brakes.
"We passed the school."
…Oh.
—
We walked the rest of the way.
"You okay?" Lyra asked.
"Yeah. Just tired."
She gave me a sideways look. "Right. Just… we've got a long year ahead. Don't vanish on me, okay?"
I didn't answer.
As we reached the gates, my phone buzzed.
It was Anya.
I need to tell you something. Meet me at the meadow after school. Please.Bottom of Form