The night was unusually still, as if the stars themselves were holding their breath.
Jack Parker stood atop the courthouse rooftop, the breeze brushing through his jacket. Below, Harmonfield slept. Quiet. Rebuilding. Healing.
But his thoughts weren’t at rest.
He closed his eyes.
And in that stillness—a dream swept over him like a tide.
The spirit world opened like a veil being drawn. Old Joe stood in the center of it, arms crossed, dragon light swirling behind him.
“She’s coming back, Jack,” he said gently, voice echoing like wind through stone.
Jack’s breath caught. “Emily?”
Old Joe nodded once. “The vault didn’t take her life. She tricked it. Sacrificed her presence, not her soul. She sealed herself away, waiting for the right moment. And now, she’s ready.”
Jack took a step forw
