Chapter 2

While Jake sat unaware in the park, reality twisted just a few blocks away...

Jake sighed, still lost in memories of his past life, unaware of the storm closing in around him.

A few blocks away, the city's usual noise was suddenly pierced by a siren's wail.

With a shimmer like heat rising off pavement on a hot day, a translucent barrier erupted around the neighborhood, folding the world into a mirrored echo — a separate realm designed to trap those with power.

This wasn't just a fence but a complex ward — a magical seal that only those who radiated aura or wielded active spells could cross, locking them away from the powerless.

Those without power remained anchored to the normal city streets, oblivious to the dimensional shift.

The powerless bore no aura — the invisible energy signature that marks anyone with magic — so the barrier's ward left them untouched, unable to enter the mirrored realm.

But Klein — the target of the Bureau's hunt — had no idea that this trap was already closing around him.

When Fergo first caught Klein, the man had looked sharp and dangerous—lean, with a confident edge that marked him as someone to fear. His aura flickered restlessly, and he moved with a predator's grace. But months in Raven's Nest had changed all that.

Raven's Nest wasn't just a prison that locked you away — it peeled you back, forcing you to confront yourself. The Bureau called it "rehabilitation." Klein called it psychological dismantling.

They didn't need to beat you. Instead, they taught. Lectured. Questioned. Endlessly.

They probed his memories, his triggers, his every excuse for the murders he committed — stripping it all down until there was nothing left but truth.

And Klein?

He couldn't stand the truth.

Now, his gaunt face was etched with exhaustion and torment.His muscles, once strong and steady, had wasted away, leaving him thin and fragile—a broken version of the man who had once slipped through Fergo's fingers.

Fergo stood firm on the rooftop, broad-shouldered and strong. He moved with quiet confidence, his physical power softened by a gentle kindness. Years of experience and tough decisions had shaped him into a protector, not just a fighter.

"You can't run anymore, Klein," Fergo's voice boomed through the barrier's distorted airwaves. "This ends now."

"I already set up the barrier," Fergo added, voice laced with iron. "We both know you're trapped like a caged rat."

"So just come out on your own!"

"Bullshit," Klein hissed, weaving between warped reflections of city buildings, runes glowing faintly beneath his feet — marks that amplified the barrier's power.

His body flickered into a half-mist, a unique spell letting him slip unseen through the warped alleys of the mirrored realm.

"You think I'll let you cage me again, Fergo?!" he snarled aloud, voice echoing unnaturally through the barrier-bent air.

From above, Captain Fergo manipulated the barrier like a master chess player, his voice amplified by an enforcement spell — magic woven into the ward to strengthen authority and keep prisoners in line.

"You should've stayed in Raven's Nest when you had the chance," Fergo said, steel in his tone. "You got out once — we won't make that mistake again."

Back at the park, unaware of the dimensional battlefield unfolding nearby, Jake crumpled an empty bread wrapper and tucked it inside the side of the milk carton. Tossing both into a trash bin, he wiped his hands on his pants and stretched lazily.

"Still hate paperwork," he muttered, recalling the mindless grind of his past life.

The sky was flawless blue, birds chirped in nearby trees, and faint children's laughter drifted from the other side of the park. A perfect, normal day.

He slung the plastic bag of leftovers over his wrist and began walking home.

His foot stepped forward—

—and the world around him shimmered faintly.

Just for a second.

Like sunlight rippling over a puddle.

Jake didn't notice. He kept walking.