Night had settled thick over the city, casting a heavy silence that seemed to sink into Nathan's bones. It was that hour of deep quiet when even the night owls had found their nests, and only the hum of distant traffic punctuated the stillness. But tonight, something else stirred beneath the surface of the city, and Nathan felt it as surely as the blood pulsing in his veins. The flicker was back.
It danced at the edge of his vision, not the faint spark he'd seen before, but something sharper, more vivid, as if daring him to follow. He couldn't ignore it, not this time. He pulled on his jacket and stepped outside, letting the flicker guide him through shadowed streets, his heart pounding with the pulse of something ancient and unexplainable.
The streets were empty, bathed in the soft amber of streetlights, casting strange, twisting shadows that seemed to reach out to him. Every step felt heavier, each breath sharper. It wasn't fear, exactly, but a taut sense of something looming. He walked on, barely aware of his surroundings, feeling that strange pull leading him further into the forgotten parts of town.
Ahead, something shimmered—a crack, hovering in midair, a luminous scar in the fabric of reality itself. It hung there, silent and otherworldly, radiating a soft, pulsing glow like fractured glass catching the light. He stepped closer, mesmerized by the flicker dancing within the crack, the strange play of colors that twisted in and out of existence. It was beautiful, in a terrible, unnatural way.
Nathan reached out, hand trembling as he moved closer. His fingertips were mere inches from the rift when a voice, low and steady, sliced through the silence.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."
Nathan froze, snapping his hand back as he spun around. A man stood a few yards away, barely visible in the half-light. He was dressed in dark clothes, blending almost seamlessly with the shadows, save for a faint glint of metal at his collar. His stance was relaxed but controlled, as if he'd been watching Nathan long before he'd spoken.
"Who are you?" Nathan demanded, his voice unsteady.
The man didn't answer immediately. He stepped forward, his gaze flicking between Nathan and the shimmering scar in the air. Up close, Nathan could see the stranger's face—sharp angles, eyes that were cold and calculating, and an expression that spoke of authority. The man studied Nathan for a moment, as though weighing him on an invisible scale.
"Let's keep this simple," the man said finally. "You can call me Agent Kane. And you, my friend, are meddling in something far beyond your pay grade."
Agent Kane took a device from his pocket—a small, handheld scanner that emitted a faint blue glow. He swept it over Nathan, the light pulsing with each pass, as though reading something invisible in the air around him.
"Unregistered anomaly signature," Kane muttered, his gaze sharpening. "No classification. That's…unexpected."
"Anomaly signature?" Nathan echoed, his confusion deepening. "I don't understand what you're talking about."
Kane's mouth twisted into a faint smile, a cold glint in his eyes. "No, I don't suppose you do." He pocketed the device and took a deliberate step forward, his tone shifting from clinical to something darker. "But you're coming with me. No arguments."
Nathan's pulse quickened, instinctively taking a step back. "I haven't done anything wrong. I…I don't even know what this is," he said, gesturing at the rift.
"That," Kane replied, his voice icy, "is none of your concern. What is my concern is you being here, interacting with it. Now, let me make this easy for you." He leaned in, his eyes hard. "You have two options. You come with me, quietly, and we figure out what's going on with you. Or…" His hand drifted to his belt, resting on something clipped to his side. "We do this the hard way."
Nathan clenched his fists, glancing from Kane to the crack in reality just inches away. Every instinct screamed for him to run, but something in Kane's gaze—something cold and unforgiving—rooted him in place. He had no idea who this man was or what he wanted, but he could feel the steel of authority in his voice, a quiet threat that brooked no defiance.
"Fine," Nathan said finally, keeping his voice steady. "I'll go with you."
Kane's eyes flicked with satisfaction. "Smart choice." He gestured for Nathan to walk ahead, a silent command that left no room for argument.
Nathan glanced back at the rift, feeling a pang of loss, as if leaving it behind meant abandoning some crucial part of himself. But he tore his gaze away and fell in line, Kane's footsteps a steady echo behind him. They walked in tense silence, Nathan's mind churning with questions that he knew better than to ask.
As they rounded a corner, Nathan caught a glimpse of Kane signaling with a subtle tilt of his head. Almost immediately, two more figures emerged from the shadows, closing in on either side of him. Realization dawned cold and sharp—this wasn't an invitation. This was an arrest.
Nathan stopped, his breath hitching. "You said I had a choice."
Kane arched a brow, his face a mask of indifference. "And you made it. But we don't take chances with unregistered anomalies."
"Unregistered anomalies?" Nathan repeated, his voice rising in alarm. "I'm not…whatever you think I am. I'm just a guy!"
Kane didn't blink. "We'll see about that."
Without warning, one of the other agents—a woman with a stony expression and an iron grip—took hold of his arm, steering him forward. Nathan struggled, his pulse pounding in his ears, but her grip was unyielding, her gaze fixed and unreadable.
"Let me go," he demanded, trying to twist free. "You can't just—"
"We can," Kane interrupted, his voice like steel. "And we will. Trust me, Nathan, whatever you think you know…you're wrong. Now, keep moving."
Nathan felt a surge of anger, but he knew he was outmatched. He bit back his protests, letting himself be herded forward, a trapped animal under the watchful eyes of its captors. The reality of the situation settled over him like a shroud—he wasn't in control. He wasn't even close.
They led him through a maze of back streets and alleys, the city's familiar landscape twisted into something alien and menacing. His mind raced, a thousand questions clawing at him, but Kane's expression offered no answers, only a wall of silent authority.
Finally, they reached a black, unmarked vehicle parked in the shadow of an abandoned building. Kane opened the door and motioned for him to get in, his eyes cold and unyielding.
"In," he ordered, his voice leaving no room for negotiation.
Nathan hesitated, every instinct screaming to run, to fight, to do anything but comply. But he knew it was pointless. He was alone, outnumbered, and unarmed. Reluctantly, he climbed into the car, feeling the chill of metal cuffs snap around his wrists as the door closed behind him.
The drive was silent, the city's lights blurring past the window as they sped through the empty streets. Nathan's mind raced, replaying the night's events in a frantic loop, trying to piece together some semblance of understanding. But every time he thought he'd found a thread of logic, it slipped through his grasp, leaving only questions in its wake.
After what felt like hours, the car pulled to a stop in front of a nondescript building, its facade cold and uninviting. Kane climbed out first, followed by the other agents, who pulled Nathan out, guiding him toward the entrance with firm, unyielding hands.
As they led him inside, Nathan caught a glimpse of his reflection in the glass doors. He looked pale, disoriented, a stranger staring back at him with haunted eyes. He felt a pang of dread settle in his gut, a quiet certainty that whatever lay beyond those doors, he wasn't prepared for it.
Kane's voice cut through his thoughts, low and almost mocking. "Welcome to the Global Response Authority. You'll be our guest…for a while."