PROLOGUE

​-Trigger Event-​

Seven years have passed since Chris first stepped foot in this powers' forsaken city. Not a day goes by without him wondering whether that might have been a mistake.

The downpour was relentless, the wind loud in its mournful lament, and the moon above reticent, but full. Purple lightning writhed hundreds of meters up in the air as it sprung from one tainted cloud to the other, the boom in its wake deafening. The city's latent stench persisted despite the deluge, made worse as rainwater leached greasy filth from garbage piles onto the slick tarmac: City officials continued to refuse to see reason, hence the underpaid sanitation workers who were meant to keep the place clean also continued to remain on strike.

Quid pro quo, in the most morbid of sense of it.

To Chris though, none of that mattered. At least not at the moment. Amidst a labyrinth of towering megascrapers that clawed at the smog-tainted sky above, he wandered, seemingly lost. He felt tired.

Very tired.

They say ignorance is bliss. Chris never truly understood the phrase until today. Foul knowledge gnawed at his core. He begged for it to stop. But alas, one could not simply unsee what had been seen, nor could they unhear what had been heard. In the wake of his discovery, a searing pain, unlike anything he had ever felt before, burned a hole in his chest.

The icy wind whipped at his face, pelting exposed gooseflesh with bolts of frigid water. The corporal tugged his jacket tighter around his chest, his uniform soaked through. In his pocket, his phone buzzed insistently.

He ignored it.

Chris looked up, eyes burning as he emptied his mind to take in the entirety of the concrete jungle around him. How unassailable the heights now seemed. How insignificant he now was in its bowels; all chewed up and digested, fermenting in wait to be disgorged at the beast's earliest convenience. As he stared at the fractured reflection of the city lights, holographic neon signs, and billboards, he noticed something that snapped him out of his reverie. His gaze rose to settle on the many ads perched high on the rooftops above. In one was a toddler—a baby—blonde, full cheeks, and pretty blue eyes—much like his daughter, Chloé.

Slowly, strange, vile thoughts began to fester in his mind.

"...no," he growled, shaking his head as if to banish the traitorous ponderings from his mind. "NO!"

Heart thumping against its cage, he exhaled. His expression hardened as a strange resolve settled on his shoulders. A longing rang hollow in his chest, begging to be filled. Begging for some glimmer of hope to ease his now fragile existence.

The corporal's cell phone was in his hands before he realised what he was doing, fingers slipping as they tapped on the wet glass surface. Absentmindedly, he dismissed the fifty-one missed calls from "Honeybun" before pulling up the TransitLink app to request a ride. His phone buzzed a moment later and a holographic map indicating where the ride would arrive was projected above it, the visuals blurring and flickering in the thunderstorm. He waited impatiently by the curb for several minutes, ignoring the other passersby as they scurried past until one ugly, rotund cab stopped in front of him. Chris reached for the door, pressing his thumb against a notch moulded into the handle. The scanner beeped. There was a buzz, another beep, followed by a fizzing noise as the curved, circular barrier popped out and slid away to reveal the EV's flaking faux leather interior.

A discarded condom pack with a smiley face drawn on it sat beside one of the belt pre-tensioners. Mockingly.

Chris ignored his instinctive disgust, settling into the seat opposite it. "Good evening, valued user," the A.I. driver greeted as the door slid shut with a hiss. "Would you be heading straight to your destination, or are—"

"No stops," Chris interrupted. "Post-haste."

"Very well. Please fasten your seat belt, Valued User."

***​

The tension coiling in Chris' guts slowly unravelled as the elevator console displayed seventy-five with a ping. The door slid open soundlessly and he hesitantly stepped out into a hallway before woodenly finding his apartment. Abigail, the babysitter, turned around to look at him in surprise as he stepped in and shut the door behind himself. She said something, but Chris failed to register. With a tired exhale, he slowly cleared the table beside Chloé's cot and sat down.

He sighed again, exhausted. The fringes of his vision darkened. He took his glasses off, carefully folding them before stuffing them down his breast pocket.

Another sigh vented past his lips. He stared at Chloé in silence, choking down a sob.

Tears ran down his cheeks. He sniffed, wiping the snot away from his nose with his left sleeve. Denial tried to take root in his mind but found no purchase.

More tears leaked.

He sniffed again, this time failing to strangle a sob.

Abigail excused herself.

His phone rang; it woke the baby.

The sitter returned to ferry the crying infant away.

'Lies…' he whispered.

His child was not here.

'All lies…'

She never was. He did not know how he knew. He just did. Instinct, one might say.

'It was all a lie.'

"A FUCKING SHAM!"

The phantasmal claws clutching Chris' heart squeezed, crushing the dead thing. His darkening vision cleared, suddenly gaining clarity. The pitter-patter of Amelia's distinctly frantic pacing in the elevator seven floors below filtered past all the noise to his ears. The hours-old scent of Abigail's tobacco lingering on the balcony grazed his nostrils. A growl escaped Chris' maw. He had warned the stupid girl times without a number not to smoke anywhere near his—

…child.

The surge of supernatural strength flooding his veins drained from his body instantly. Weary, Chris rose from his seat, vacating the apartment. He brushed past Amelia on the way out, ignoring her frantic attempt to speak to him. She tugged at his sleeve, imposing herself between the elevator doors and trapping him there.

"Christoper!" she screamed. "Please, hear me out!"

Chris' vacant gaze swivelled to focus on her face. His wife stammered, her grip on his jacket loosening.

"...I am sorry," she whispered, her grasp again tightening on his sleeve as tears gathered in her eyes. "Please. Don't leave."

"Lies," Chris croaked in response. "All lies."

He left.