The fog didn't lift the next day.
It pressed against the city like a dream half-remembered, clinging to windows and street lamps, turning the world into a blurred watercolor. People passed her with hunched shoulders and lowered gazes, bundled in coats, as though the weight of something unseen bowed them forward. The city was quieter than usual—its noise muffled, its color drained.
Ariadne drifted through it like a shadow, detached.
Something kept bugging her. She hadn't been able to shake the strange encounter from the day before. The strange words from the woman, the moment when the air had thickened and turned strange.
'The threshold'. The phrase repeated itself in her mind like a song she couldn't place. She didn't understand what it meant, but it felt… important.
So now, she returned.
Back to the corner. The street. The bookstore.
She turned the same corner, walked the same stretch of uneven sidewalk, heart speeding with each step. But when she reached the spot, she froze.
The bookstore was gone.
Where it had stood was now a boarded-up window, its wood warped and flaking. A faded FOR RENT sign hung crookedly, half the letters peeled away by time or weather. Dust coated the glass. Cobwebs stitched the edges. It looked like no one had stepped inside in years.
She stared, confusion spiraling in her chest.
She hadn't imagined it. She couldn't have.
A man brushed past her, muttering something indecipherable under his breath. His coat flapped behind him like wings, and his footsteps echoed strangely on the pavement.
Though unease prickled at her, she turned and walked on, deeper into the older part of town. The streets here were narrower. Time-worn. The kind of place people avoided without knowing why.
Cracks split the pavement like veins. Ivy crept over facades of forgotten buildings, curling around rusted railings and broken windows. The air was damp with the smell of stone, wet earth, and something faintly metallic—like old blood or iron keys.
She found a narrow passage between two buildings.
She paused.
Something tugged at her—not a sound, not a voice, but a feeling. A pull. . The alley was shrouded in fog and shadow, the far end swallowed in darkness.
She hesitated for only a heartbeat.
Then she stepped in.
She noticed a crow watching her from a crooked lamp post above. It didn't caw. Just stared.
As she walked, small things began to feel off. Unnatural.
A streetlight buzzed in a rhythm too steady—too alive. Like breathing.
A cat sat on a fence, still as a statue, its glowing eyes fixed on her without blinking.
A payphone rang just as she passed.
Only once.
She stopped, heart thudding.
The receiver swung gently, twisting on its cord. There was no wind.
She didn't pick it up.
The fog curled tighter around her ankles as she walked away, faster now, her breath shallow. Her pulse tapped at her neck like a warning.
She should have been afraid. She knew that.
But she wasn't.
Instead, she felt closer.
To something.
She didn't know what. Only that the air had changed. It crackled, charged with unseen electricity, like a storm about to break or a spell being cast.
Like something had noticed her.
And was watching.
The air shifted.
She felt it in her bones. Like stepping through a veil or falling into a dream mid-step. The city's sounds didn't fade. They vanished.
No engines. No chatter. No footsteps.
Only silence.
Ariadne stopped.
The alley had spilled her out onto a narrow street, one she didn't recognize. One that didn't exist on any map she knew.
No signs. No people. Not even wind.
And yet, it didn't feel abandoned.
Her breath clouded in the air. Her heartbeat filled her ears. And still, she walked, as if pulled by some invisible thread. The world behind her had faded to gray. It didn't matter anymore.
The fog parted as she moved forward, revealing a tall stone wall and a wrought-iron gate. It was old, heavy, and intricate—too elaborate for anything in this part of the city.
Beyond the gate stood a mansion.
Not glittering. Not warm.
It loomed.
Regal and silent. Ancient and powerful. Its presence made the air press tighter around her chest.
She barely noticed the car that appeared—gliding up the long drive with eerie smoothness. A glossy black vehicle, sleek and still.
Her feet rooted to the spot.
The car door opened.
A man stepped out.
Tall. Shrouded in darkness, wrapped in dark fabric, his presence arresting in a way that made the air around him tighten.
Then another figure stepped out.
And another.
Four in total.
But she only saw him.
Her breath caught.
It's him.
The man from her dreams.
The man her soul had screamed for without understanding why.
The disbelief cracked through her chest like lightning—but she didn't question it. Not this time.
Her feet moved before her mind caught up. She ran, the slap of her sneakers sharp against the quiet street.
"Wait!"
The iron gate began to close.
Panic surged. She lunged forward, shoving herself through just as the gap narrowed. Metal scraped her side. She winced—a sharp hiss of pain but didn't stop. Adrenaline roared in her veins as she stumbled into the courtyard.
The men turned.
Four sets of eyes found hers.
She froze—panting, flushed, desperate.
The world felt suspended.
No one moved.
No one spoke.
A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips
' I've found you '