The Shadow’s Game 

Al's hands shook as he unlocked his apartment. 

He stepped inside and immediately felt it. 

Something was off. 

He scanned the room. Small details. 

The kitchen chair—moved slightly. 

His books—not in the right order. 

A coffee mug—still warm on the counter. 

Al's stomach twisted. 

Had he just forgotten? Had he moved them? 

Or had someone else been here? 

A whisper slithered through his mind. 

"I told you, Al. You're slipping." 

Al ignored it. He grabbed his wallet from the counter, needing some kind of grounding. Something that proved he was still him. 

He flipped open his ID. 

And froze. 

The name—was wrong. 

Not a typo. Not a misprint. 

A different name entirely. 

Ethan Clarke. 

His breath hitched. He stumbled backward, shaking his head. 

This wasn't real. This wasn't his. 

The Shadow laughed softly. 

"Maybe you're not yours either."