The Shadow between Seconds

The weight of Nyla's words settled in the room like a storm cloud.

Idris Vale had spent years chasing criminals, unraveling conspiracies, and pulling truth from the darkness. But now, he wasn't just a detective investigating a murder—he was a target.

A man had been erased from existence. The only clue left behind was a pocket watch that defied logic. And now, according to Nyla, whatever erased Elias Kade was coming for him next.

Idris exhaled slowly. "You're going to have to explain that."

Nyla tapped a command into her holographic interface, and a new file appeared—this one labeled ECHO PROTOCOL. The display flickered, showing a swirling mass of numbers, shifting symbols, and something that looked almost like… a face.

"A distortion," Elise whispered, leaning closer. "That's—" She stopped, shaking her head. "That's impossible. Time fluctuations don't manifest visually."

"They do," Nyla corrected, "if they're intelligent."

Lane let out a nervous laugh. "Okay, no. That's—what, time is alive now?"

"No," Nyla said flatly. "But something is inside it."

The room fell silent.

Idris ran a hand down his face. "Let's say I believe you. What exactly are we dealing with?"

Nyla's expression darkened. "We call them Echoes. Fragments of time that have become self-aware. They don't follow cause and effect. They rewrite reality in ways we don't fully understand. Kade—" she gestured to the empty footage screen "—was likely trying to outrun one. And now that you've come in contact with the watch, you might be next."

Elise frowned. "And you're only telling us this now?"

Nyla's jaw tightened. "Because until now, I didn't have proof. The last Echo sighting was over ten years ago, and by the time we got there, the people involved were already gone."

Idris didn't like the sound of that. "Gone as in… erased?"

"Yes." Nyla's voice was steady, but there was something in her eyes. Something she wasn't saying.

Idris leaned back in his chair, his mind racing. "If these things rewrite time, how do you stop them?"

"That's the problem," Nyla admitted. "We don't know. We've never caught one. And if an Echo is after you, Detective…" She met his gaze. "You may not have much time left to figure it out."

A chill ran down Idris' spine. He glanced at Elise, who looked just as unnerved as he felt. Even Lane, usually all bravado, had paled.

"Alright," Idris said finally. "Let's assume an Echo is coming for me. What's my next move?"

Nyla hesitated. "That depends. How far are you willing to go to stay alive?"

Idris narrowed his eyes. "I don't like the sound of that."

"I mean," Nyla said carefully, "there's one person who might have answers. But if you talk to him, there's no going back."

"Who?" Elise asked.

Nyla's fingers danced across the interface, and a grainy image appeared. A man in a hooded coat, his face partially obscured. His eyes, however, were sharp—piercing. The kind of gaze that saw more than it should.

"His name is Silas Rook," Nyla said. "He used to work for us. Until he… disappeared."

"Disappeared how?" Idris asked.

"Vanished off the grid," Nyla replied. "No records, no footprints. He knew how to hide. But if anyone understands Echoes, it's him. Because he's the only person who's ever survived one."

The tension in the room thickened.

Elise tapped her fingers against the table. "So we find Rook, get him to talk, and hope he doesn't vanish on us too."

"That's the plan," Nyla confirmed. "If he's still alive, he's somewhere in the lower districts, off the system. He won't trust you easily."

Idris stood, slipping on his coat. "Then we'll just have to be very convincing."

Nyla nodded. "I'll make some calls. But if an Echo really is after you, we need to move. Fast."

As Idris turned to leave, the pocket watch in Elise's hand gave a sudden, high-pitched tick.

For a fraction of a second, everything around them flickered—the room, the lights, the air itself. It was like the world skipped a beat.

And in that brief moment, Idris swore he saw something in the reflection of the monitor.

A shadow, standing right behind him.

Watching.