The sky cracked open like someone split a painting.
Light spilled down—not warm, not golden, but cold and silver, like moonlight dipped in ice water.
A giant sigil flickered into existence midair. Glowed. Fizzled. Then popped like a bubble.
Nothing happened.
Then—
BOOM.
A crater appeared in the middle of the market. No flash, no warning. Just gone. Stalls, lanterns, a very confused donkey—all wiped clean like someone hit delete.
And in the center?
A man.
Cloak like a shadow. Hair like ink poured over snow. Eyes shut, hands in sleeves, just standing there while wind coiled around him like it was scared to touch.
People ran. Screamed. Someone threw a cabbage.
Adam reappeared mid-bite beside the same pastry stall. Still chewing.
He glanced sideways. "What, again?"
The shadowy guy didn't move. Didn't even breathe. Just opened one eye.
Crack.
Lightning snaked through the sky behind him like a special effect someone paid too much budget for.
