A CITY OF SHADOWS.

Chapter 9: A City of Shadows.

Dante and Lyra moved swiftly through the ruins, their footsteps light against the cracked pavement. The night stretched endlessly around them, but Dante could feel the city in the distance—its pulse, its movement.

His senses had shifted.

He could hear things no normal person should. The distant hum of neon lights. The faint vibration of energy coursing beneath the earth. The synchronized heartbeat of something unnatural moving just out of reach.

The realization made his jaw tighten.

He wasn't just enhanced.

He was connected to something bigger.

"You're quiet," Lyra said, not looking at him.

Dante kept his pace even. "I have a lot on my mind."

She smirked faintly. "I bet."

They kept moving, slipping through the remains of the outer district. The city was still miles away, but the abandoned highways and skeletal remains of old buildings provided enough cover.

Then, a low hum filled the air.

Dante froze. His golden eyes flicked upward.

In the distance, sleek black drones cut through the sky, scanning the ruins with eerie precision.

"They're looking for us," Lyra murmured.

Dante's fists clenched. "Then we need to move."

They took a longer route, weaving through the overgrown roads and avoiding open spaces. The deeper they went, the more Dante felt it—an unease curling in his chest.

Something wasn't right.

Then—

A figure emerged from the shadows.

Tall. Cloaked. Their face obscured by a mask that shimmered faintly under the moonlight.

Lyra tensed, drawing her weapon instantly. "Dante—"

The figure raised a hand. "If I wanted you dead, I wouldn't have let you see me."

Dante stepped forward, eyes narrowing. "Who the hell are you?"

The figure tilted their head. Then, in a voice low and steady, they said—

"The only one who can tell you what you really are."

---

A Dangerous Encounter

Silence hung between them, thick and suffocating. Dante felt a shift in the air, a subtle charge that made the hair on his arms stand on end. Whoever this masked stranger was, they weren't normal.

Neither was he.

Lyra's fingers tightened around the trigger. "Start talking."

The masked figure exhaled, a slow and deliberate motion. "You're heading toward the city. You won't make it far—not unless you know what's waiting for you."

Dante narrowed his eyes. "And you do?"

"I know because I've been where you are." The figure's head tilted slightly. "Waking up in a body that doesn't feel like your own. Strength you can't explain. Hearing things you shouldn't."

Dante's pulse quickened. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying you're not the first."

Lyra shot Dante a glance. "He could be lying."

The figure chuckled, the sound low and edged with something unreadable. "You think they only experimented on one subject? No. There were others."

Dante's jaw tightened. "Where are they?"

"Dead."

The word hung in the air like a death sentence.

The figure took a step closer, moving with a smooth, practiced grace. Dante instinctively tensed, his body reacting before his mind could process why.

"They're coming for you," the stranger continued. "You and her." Their masked face turned toward Lyra. "She's not just a scientist, is she?"

Dante felt Lyra stiffen.

The figure let the silence drag before continuing. "You're more than you claim to be. Both of you. The city isn't a refuge—it's a hunting ground. And you're walking right into it."

Dante crossed his arms, golden eyes gleaming in the dark. "Then tell me why we shouldn't just leave."

The figure's voice dropped, almost a whisper.

"Because leaving won't save you. You need to fight back."

Dante let that sink in. The idea of running had been a temporary plan, an instinct. But something about the way the figure spoke—like they knew what was coming—made his stomach twist.

Lyra finally spoke, her voice sharp. "You talk in riddles, but you still haven't told us who you are."

The figure reached up and, with slow precision, peeled off the mask.

A scarred face.

Sharp features.

Eyes—not silver, not golden, but a deep crimson that shimmered under the dim light.

"My name is Cain," the man said. "And I was Subject One."

End of Chapter 9.