The moment our eyes met, he smirked.
I didn't react.
I simply turned and walked out.
Whoever he was, he wasn't my problem.
Not now at least.
As I stepped into the night air, the cool breeze barely registered against my skin. My mind was still a battlefield of unanswered questions.
Azazel. The gods. The accelerating timeline.
Everything was moving too fast.
And if I didn't keep up…
I knew I'd be left behind.
Or worse.
Crushed under the weight of a story I no longer controlled.
***
The streets of the Blackblade Kingdom were quieter than usual at this hour. A few scattered torches flickered against the stone walls, casting elongated shadows across the narrow roads.
The night carried a crisp chill, but I barely felt it. My thoughts churned too violently for something as trivial as the weather to bother me.
No matter how much I tried to piece things together, it always came back to the same thing—The God of this world was rewriting the story.
And I didn't like that.
