The sky cracked open like someone split a painting.
Light spilled down—not warm, not golden, but cold and silver, like moonlight dipped in ice water.
A giant sigil flickered into existence midair. Glowed. Fizzled. Then popped like a bubble.
Nothing happened.
Then—
BOOM.
A crater appeared in the middle of the market. No flash, no warning. Just gone. Stalls, lanterns, a very confused donkey—all wiped clean like someone hit delete.
And in the center?
A man.
Cloak like a shadow. Hair like ink poured over snow. Eyes shut, hands in sleeves, just standing there while wind coiled around him like it was scared to touch.
People ran. Screamed. Someone threw a cabbage.
Adam reappeared mid-bite beside the same pastry stall. Still chewing.
He glanced sideways. "What, again?"
The shadowy guy didn't move. Didn't even breathe. Just opened one eye.
Crack.