The message appeared at the clock tower at 4:43 a.m.
Marcus stood at the threshold, his form pulsing with the golden light of the bridge. The connection was strong. The oneness was whole. Everything was as it should be.
But the message changed everything.
It was carved into the stone where the doorway had once been—deep, precise, as though made by a steady hand. The letters were ancient, unfamiliar, but as Marcus looked at them, they seemed to shift, to rearrange themselves into something he could understand.
THE BRIDGE IS COMPLETE. THE CONNECTION IS WHOLE. BUT THE BRIDGE WAS NOT BUILT TO LAST FOREVER. IT WAS BUILT TO BE TESTED. AND THE TEST IS COMING.
Marcus touched the message. It was cold, smooth, wrong.
"Anna," he said into his phone. "Get to the clock tower. Now."
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Anna arr
