Elias had no time to think. Pain throbbed in his side, and the air was thick with the scent of rain mixed with burnt oil. But he didn't need to think.

He saw.

A gunshot.

A scream.

A knife flashing in the dark.

He didn't know when or how, but he was certain this woman was part of that fractured vision that seared into his mind. He hadn't run yet, but he couldn't ignore the cold certainty crawling down his spine.

The woman arched a brow, noticing the shift in his expression.

"You're looking at me like you've seen a ghost."

Elias took a step back, his body bracing for anything.

"Not a ghost... but something close."

She let out a short, humorless laugh. "Well, that's the most interesting thing I've heard in a while."

He studied her. She was an enigma, and in her eyes—just for a flicker—there was something else. A glimmer of recognition.

"And you?" he asked, voice edged with suspicion. "You didn't just happen to be here by coincidence, did you?"

She took a step closer, her stride confident. "Maybe you're right. Now, tell me about that 'something close' you mentioned."

Before he could answer, the neon reflections on the metal walls shifted—stretching into a long, dark shadow at the end of the alley.

They're here.

He cursed under his breath, turning just in time to catch a glimpse of their reflection in a grimy window—a pair of figures, clad in night-colored coats, moving with deliberate purpose toward him.

"Friends of yours?" the woman asked, unfazed.

No time to explain. He had to move. Now.

"If you don't want to get shot tonight, you need to trust me."

She didn't hesitate. A slow, knowing smile curved her lips—one he couldn't decide was confidence or recklessness.

"I like a challenge."

Elias grabbed her wrist and pulled her forward, sending her umbrella clattering to the ground.

They ran.

Through the narrow alley, their feet splashed through puddles, while the sharp sound of pursuit echoed behind them. Elias wasn't sure why he had taken her with him, but he knew one thing—if she stayed back, the scene in his vision would unfold exactly as he had seen it.

The gunshot. The scream. The knife.

His visions didn't always happen in the exact way he saw them. But they always happened.

Unless he did something to change them.

As they ran—

The second sight struck again, a rush of images flashing through his mind. A deadly path ahead—more agents waiting, armed and ready.

He veered sharply, yanking the unknown woman into a narrower passage, avoiding the trap before it could be sprung.

But the questions burned inside him.

Why was she part of this?

Why was his vision tied to her?

He stole a glance at her, searching for answers in her gaze.

She didn't resist. She ran with him in perfect silence. More than that—she was fast, her movements precise. Like someone who had done this before.

"This isn't your first chase, is it?" he asked as he vaulted over a metal crate, landing in a side street.

"And you're not just some wounded man looking for an escape route," she countered, voice steady.

Their eyes met for a split second—a dangerous game of unspoken truths.

But there was no time for answers.

The pounding footsteps behind them grew closer.

They had to disappear.

Now.

. .

To be continued...