Chapter 1
Chapter 1: Beyond Two Worlds
Evelyn snapped the novel shut with a heavy thud. “Seriously?!” She groaned, palming her
face. “That’s how it ends?” She rested her chin on her hand, eyes sweeping across the
library.
It was eerily quiet. A teenager sat by the far window lost in a book, while an older man
browsed the history section. Outside, rain lashed steadily against the tall glass panes.
Quiet night, she thought, glancing down at the disappointing book on her desk. She
unlocked her phone, scrolling through reviews to see if anyone else shared her outrage over
the ending.
The chime of the front door snapped her back. A man drenched from head to toe strode
straight toward the new releases section, snatched a book, marched to her counter, and
slapped it down.
“Can you hurry up?” he snapped, drumming his fingers against the wood.
Evelyn raised an eyebrow, keeping her face neutral. Well, good evening to you too. She
scanned the book, bagged it, and handed it over. Before she could finish her customer-
service smile, he grabbed the bag and darted back out into the rain.
A moment later, an older man approached her desk with a soft smile, placing a thick tome
on the counter.
“May I borrow this one?” he asked.
Evelyn glanced at the cover. “You’re really into history. Could I see your library card,
please?”“History is the only place where the dead still speak,” he mused, reaching into his coat for
his ID.
Evelyn smiled, typing his information in. “There you go. You have this for a month. If you
need to extend it, just give us a call or pop in.”
He took the book, nodding appreciatively, then paused. “I think you might want to close up
early tonight, Evelyn. I heard on the radio this storm is turning into something much worse.”
A flicker of unease rippled through her. She’d always loved stormy nights, but tonight felt
different — the storm didn’t look frightening yet, but a strange tension hung in the air,
prickling her skin.
“I think I will,” she admitted.
The teenager packed up shortly after, leaving Evelyn alone in the empty library. She
stretched her aching back, the floorboards creaking under her weight as she moved around
the reading tables, gathering left-behind books and sliding each one back into place.
Satisfied, she grabbed her coat, flipped the lock, and turned the sign to CLOSED.
Stepping onto the covered porch, the sound of the rain suddenly vanished. Evelyn stopped
dead. The air went completely dead and silent — no wind, no patter of water, as if someone
had hit mute on the universe. She turned in confusion. The rain was still falling right in front
of her, but it made no sound at all.
Then a violent crack of thunder shattered the air, shaking the pavement beneath her boots.
Sound flooded back in a deafening roar.
“I really need to get home,” she muttered.
The wind whipped around her, nearly throwing her off balance as she hurried across the
parking lot. She reached her car, yanked the door open, and dove inside, shivering as she
slammed it shut. Lightning lit the sky, followed instantly by a boom that made her flinch.
What is wrong with me tonight? she thought, rubbing her arms.
She started the ignition. The dashboard lit up, and the car’s AI spoke: “Ethan is calling.
Would you like me to answer?”
“Yes, please,” Evelyn sighed. Who am I being polite to? she thought, faintly amused.
“Hey, Evelyn, where are you?” Ethan’s voice blared over the speakers, tight with urgency.
“Why? What’s going on?” she asked, instantly on guard.
“Are you blind? A huge storm is hitting the county. Hurry up and get home — I know you’re
still hiding out in your weird library.”“It’s not weird,” Evelyn shot back defensively.
“Uh-huh,” her older brother replied dryly.
“Anyway, I’m in the car now. Heading back.”
Ethan let out a breath. “Drive carefully, alright?”
Despite her instinct to act annoyed, warmth bloomed in her chest. She appreciated how
protective he was. “Will do. Bye, Ethan.”
She ended the call and pulled out into the night.
The wipers swept frantically, barely clearing the sheets of water cascading down. Visibility
dropped fast. Suddenly, her headlights caught a massive, uprooted oak blocking both lanes.
“Dammit,” Evelyn cursed, slamming the brakes.
Heart hammering, she backed up and took the winding backroad through the woods instead
— not a route she usually chose, especially not in conditions like this. Dense trees pressed
against both sides of the narrow asphalt, casting long, swaying shadows. It was pitch black,
the headlights barely cutting three feet through the downpour. She gripped the wheel,
unable to shake the feeling she was driving straight into something she couldn’t turn back
from.
The radio gave a sharp squawk of static, making her jump. On the dashboard, the digital
clock blinked erratically, the numbers glitching before going dark entirely.
“What the—?” she muttered, tapping the screen. Nothing. Even the headlights flickered, as
if the battery were being drained by some invisible magnet.
Then she saw it — off to the right, deep between the weeping branches of the pines, a
strange pulse of light flickered. Not the harsh white glare of lightning, nor the yellow glow of
a house lantern. A deep, mesmerizing violet — a tear of liquid indigo light that seemed to
warp the rain falling around it.
The space around it twisted like heat rising off asphalt. Evelyn’s foot eased off the gas. Her
heart hammered against her ribs as she stared into the tree line, scrambling for a logical
explanation. A fallen power line? A blown transformer?
Before she could finish the thought, the air in front of her car split open with a sound like
tearing silk.
A violent shockwave blasted out from the woods, throwing leaves, mud, and water across
her windshield. Evelyn gasped, but before her foot hit the brake, a massive figure tumbled
out of the darkness and into her headlights.“Oh my god!” she shrieked.
She slammed the brake and yanked the wheel left. The tires lost traction on the slick
asphalt. The car skidded wildly, spinning in a half-circle before slamming to a halt against
the muddy shoulder.
The seatbelt dug into her chest, locking her in place. She sat frozen, breath coming in
ragged gasps, smoke drifting up from the locked brakes.
Outside, rain pounded the roof.
Hands shaking, she forced herself to look out the window. The high beams still blazed,
casting two long beams through the downpour. Crouched in the center of the muddy road
was a man. Or at least, he looked like one.
He was down on one knee, gasping for air as if he’d been thrown from a moving building. No
raincoat, no jacket, nothing remotely modern — instead, elegant, intricate chest armor
glinted silver under the rain, dark fabric torn to ribbons, broad shoulder guards carved with
archaic symbols.
Dark, heavy blood pooled through a brutal tear in his shoulder armor, dripping onto the wet
road.
Evelyn couldn’t breathe. “Is he… is he dead?” she whispered.
As if hearing her, the figure lifted his head. Long, rain-soaked hair the color of spun
moonlight fell away from his face. He looked up, peering straight through her rain-streaked
window with eyes that held no pupils — just a soft, terrifying, luminescent silver glow cutting
clean through the darkness.
Their eyes locked, and for a second the storm, the woods, and the entire world vanished.
Then he collapsed sideways onto the cold, wet asphalt, and went completely still.
