DEAD BEFORE DAWN
Chapter 83: The Forgotten Name
The peace lasted two weeks.
Marcus stood at the threshold of the clock tower, watching the threads of connection pulse with steady golden light. The bridge was strong. The memories were released. The oneness was whole. Everything was as it should be.
But something was stirring.
It began as a whisper at the edges of his awareness—a name, faint and distant, repeated over and over like a prayer. He couldn't make it out at first, couldn't quite grasp the syllables. But it persisted, growing clearer with each passing day.
Anna noticed his distraction. She arrived at the clock tower one morning, her face pale, her eyes searching.
"Marcus, what's wrong? You've been distant. Preoccupied."
Marcus shook his head slowly. "There's a name. A name
