Chapter 1
Chapter 1: The First Whisper
The museum was alive, yet silent.
Soft footsteps brushed against polished marble floors, absorbed by centuries-old artifacts that stood frozen in time. The skylights above cast a cold glow over the exhibits, illuminating glass cases that held relics long forgotten—pieces of history no longer breathing but still watching.
Athia moved through the grand hall slowly, letting her gaze drift across the placards without truly reading them. She wasn’t here for history. She was here for something else.
Something that lurked just beyond sight.
The air was too thick, too charged—almost static, like the weight of unseen eyes pressing against her skin. She swallowed hard, tightening her grip on the strap of her shoulder bag. She had felt this before. The quiet pull of danger, the whisper of something waiting in the shadows.
And then—she saw him.
Not fully. Not directly.
Dingbelldon stood in the distance, a fractured silhouette among shifting bodies. Too still. Too composed. His presence didn’t belong here.
Athia’s heartbeat stumbled. Her breath shallowed as unease slid through her veins like ice. She blinked—and he was gone.
Her chest tightened.
🚀 No trace. No movement. No proof he had ever been there.
She turned sharply, scanning the museum—nothing.
💬 Athia: “Rosh. He was there. Watching me.”
💬 Rosh: His expression tightened, fingers drumming against the café table. “Are you sure?”
💬 Athia: “Do you think I’d make this up?”
The silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken fear. Outside, the city pulsed with life, oblivious.
Athia wasn’t paranoid. She knew when she was being hunted.
