Prologue: The Shadows on the Barrier
They called it the Barrier. Like it was keeping something out.
But walls don’t keep things out, not really. They just make you forget what’s already inside.
The Barrier stretched above me, its surface layered with years of graffiti, paint peeling like old scabs. Someone had tagged a line near the bottom: [YOU ARE NOT ALONE.] It was smeared, half-covered by a swirl of red and black, but I could still make out the words.
“Bullshit,” I muttered.
The Helvor was still kicking, hot and sharp in my veins. My stump ached where my arm should’ve been, the phantom pain like needles digging into skin that wasn’t there. Or maybe it was just the cold.
I leaned against the wall, my breathing uneven. Deyor hummed in the distance, the grav-rails above glowing faint blue against the dark. The city felt far away out here in the Outer Ward, even though the Barrier cut right through it. Out here, it was just alleys and shadows.
And me.
The hum started low, so quiet I thought it was my heartbeat. But it wasn’t. The Barrier was humming.
I pressed my hand—my good one—against the cold concrete, and it buzzed under my palm. Not a lot, just enough to let me know it wasn’t in my head.
“Helvor screwing with you again,” I said under my breath. My voice sounded smaller than I wanted it to. “Get a grip, Tella.”
But the hum didn’t stop. It grew louder, vibrating through the wall, the ground, my bones. I pulled my hand back and stuffed it into my jacket pocket, suddenly wishing I’d gone back to the drop house instead of wandering. The Barrier wasn’t supposed to feel alive.
But it did.
It felt like it was breathing.
I turned to go, but the streetlights flickered and went out, plunging the alley into darkness. My breath caught, and I froze, my hand gripping the fabric of my jacket.
The hum grew louder.
“It’s just the lights,” I whispered. “The city’s falling apart, same as me.”
A laugh broke the silence. High-pitched and sharp, bouncing off the walls. I spun around, but there was nothing. Just shadows, stretched long and thin under the faint glow of the grav-rails above.
“You’re hearing things,” I said, louder now. My voice cracked. “It’s just the Helvor.”
The laugh came again, closer this time. I backed away, my stump throbbing, my head pounding like it might split open. My foot caught on a loose brick, and I fell hard, the impact jarring enough to knock the air out of me.
When I looked up, the shadows were moving.
They weren’t moving right. They curled at the edges, folding into themselves like smoke, but there was nothing casting them. No people, no cars, no trash blowing in the wind. Just the Barrier.
And the hum.
I tried to get up, but my legs wouldn’t work. My hand scraped against the cracked pavement, my nails splitting. The shadows crept closer, curling over my boots, my knees, climbing higher.
“Get off me!” I screamed, my voice breaking.
The shadows didn’t listen.
They laughed again.
Then everything stopped.
The hum, the shadows, even the air—it all froze. My chest felt tight, like I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. The Barrier loomed above me, its graffiti twisting and shifting, words bleeding into shapes that weren’t there before.
Eyes. Smiling mouths. Clawing hands.
A shape emerged from the wall. It didn’t crawl out; it just was. A figure wrapped in black, its face blurred, its grin too wide. It leaned toward me, its shadow falling over my body.
“Not yet,” it said, its voice a whisper, a growl, a scream—all at once.
I couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. My hand twitched against the ground, useless.
The figure tilted its head, its grin widening. “You’ll do.”
I blinked, and it was gone.
The streetlights buzzed back on. The hum faded. The Barrier was just a wall again, graffiti and concrete and peeling paint.
But my stump ached like it had been ripped open. My hand was bleeding, my nails cracked and raw.
I stumbled to my feet, my heart hammering, my breath coming in short, shallow bursts. The alley was empty, but I didn’t feel alone. Not anymore.