The message appeared at the clock tower at 4:43 a.m.
Marcus had been standing vigil, watching the city sleep. The threads of connection were quiet, peaceful, pulsing with a steady rhythm that matched the heartbeat of the world. Everything was as it should be. Everything was at peace.
Then the voice came.
It wasn't a carving this time. It wasn't symbols or ancient words. It was a voice—faint, distant, but unmistakably human. It came from the wall where the doorway had once been, as though the stone itself had learned to speak.
Marcus. Can you hear me?
Marcus froze. The voice was familiar. Too familiar.
"Who is this?" he asked.
The voice was quiet for a moment. Then it came again, stronger this time, more desperate.
It's me. It's Lily. Please, Marcus. I need your help.
Marcus felt h
