**Chapter 1: An Unusual Dawn**
Elias stirred awake at 7 a.m., his body moving on autopilot. The faint scent of lavender soap lingered as he brushed his teeth, the cold tile floor jolting him fully into consciousness. Steam curled around the bathroom door after his shower, and he dressed mechanically—brown trousers, a linen shirt, boots laced tight. But as he reached for the handle of his sister's bedroom door, he paused. A sliver of light spilled from beneath it.
*Since when does Lira wake before me?*
He pushed the door open. The bed was neatly made. Lira stood by the window, already dressed in a high-collared navy coat, her silver hair braided tightly. She turned, and Elias flinched. Her sapphire eyes, once bright with mischief, now glinted like frost.
"You're late," she said flatly. Her voice lacked its usual warmth.
"Since when do you care about punctuality?" he muttered, but she was already brushing past him, a leather satchel clutched to her chest.
The hotel dining hall buzzed with chatter, but Lira chose a corner table, her back to the wall. Elias watched her trace the rim of her teacup, her gaze darting to every clatter of dishes.
"You're not eating ?," he said, nudging a plate of honeyed rolls toward her.
"Unnecessary risk," she replied, pulling a wrapped biscuit from her satchel. "We don't know who prepared this."
Elias's chest tightened. The old Lira would've stolen a bite from his plate just to annoy him. Now, she calculated every move. *The teleportation incident—* he shoved the thought away.
They stepped outside into Sector 2's cobblestone streets, where gas lamps flickered despite the morning sun. The air smelled of iron and burnt sugar. Around them, buildings loomed with Victorian facades, their wrought-iron balconies draped in ivy. A massive clock tower dominated the skyline, its gears visible through glass panels.
"Stay close," Lira ordered, veering into an alley. "Main streets are too exposed."
Elias followed, eyeing stalls selling glowing crystals and pocket watches filled with swirling smoke. A vendor called out, holding up a mirror that reflected not faces, but shadowy landscapes. Lira quickened her pace.
"Why's everything here look… *old*?" Elias asked, dodging a horse-drawn carriage—or was it? The creature's eyes glowed violet.
"Transcenders," Lira said. "They rebuilt fragments of their homelands after the Merge." She glanced at a shop sign painted in Cyrillic. "This sector's survivors were from 19th-century London. Sector 3, they say, resembles Edo-period Japan. But the roads…" She tapped her boot on the sandstone bricks. "These are native to this world. A failsafe, perhaps."
Elias frowned. "You've researched this?"
"Knowledge is survival." She paused, her gloved hand hovering over a stall's trinkets—a music box playing a mournful tune no one recognized.
A child suddenly darted past, laughing. Lira recoiled, colliding with Elias. Her breath hitched; her fingers trembled. For a second, he saw the sister he knew—vulnerable, scared. Then her mask snapped back.
"We're behind schedule," she said coldly, marching ahead.
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**Chapter 4: The Toll of the Bell**
The Bureau's spire gleamed in the distance when the first bell tolled. It reverberated in Elias's ribs, deeper than any sound he'd heard. Lira froze.
Around them, stall owners slammed shutters. A fruit seller abandoned his cart, pears rolling into the gutter.
"What's happening?" Elias grabbed a fleeing woman's arm.
"*Attack,we are under attack*!" she hissed, wrenching free.
Panic spread like wildfire. Lira yanked Elias into a doorway as the crowd stampeded. Her satchel fell open, revealing maps, lockpicks, vials of unknown liquids.
"What *is* this?" Elias demanded.
"Contingencies," she said, but her voice wavered. The sixth bell rang.
Silence swallowed the street.
Sandstone bricks trembled. A shadow blotched the sun—something vast, winged. Lira's hand found Elias's, icy and steady.
"Don't move," he whispered.
Elias saw something above the clock tower, a giant beast with its maw open.