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The early morning mist clung to the streets of City A like a shroud, hiding the scars left by decades of greed, betrayal, and cruelty. Ethan Luo moved silently through the alleyways, golden aura shimmering faintly, illuminating the faint traces of treachery that lingered like ghosts. Luna and Mia followed close behind, their small forms cautious yet alert. > “Papa… why do these streets feel… sad?” Luna asked softly, eyes scanning every shadow. > “Because,” Ethan said, voice low and measured, “they remember. Every corner holds a memory of injustice, every stone bears witness to deceit. The city itself mourns the truth that has been buried here for so long.” Mia clutched his sleeve, feeling a chill that had nothing to do with the morning air. > “Papa… will the ghosts hurt us?”
- Writer
