Nyxara Rising
The real trail vanished into fog as Nyxara withdrew.
By the time the first panicked calls echoed through the consortium’s ranks, Nyxara was already in her kitchen, pouring herself coffee she had no intention of drinking. The ritual grounded her, kept her hands steady. In the room’s silence, she could almost hear the city’s pulse—a heartbeat that would soon skip, then race, as those in power realized something irreplaceable had been stolen.