Chapter One: The Stranger in the Shadows

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The city never slept, and neither did Arya. Perched on the edge of a crumbling rooftop, she sprayed the final stroke onto the brick wall—a pair of wide, unblinking eyes staring back at her. Below, the streets bustled with noise and neon lights, but here, she was untouchable.

Until tonight.

As she stepped back to admire her work, a flicker of movement in the alley below caught her attention. A figure in black darted between shadows, moving with purpose. Arya’s heart quickened, not from fear, but curiosity. People didn’t sneak through the city unless they had something to hide.

She grabbed her bag and climbed down the fire escape, her boots silent on the steel rungs. The alley was damp, littered with trash, and smelled faintly of gasoline. She crept closer, keeping to the dark, her breath steady.

The stranger stopped under a flickering streetlight, pulling a small, weathered notebook from his coat. He flipped it open, scribbled something, and then froze. Slowly, he looked up, his sharp gray eyes locking onto hers.

“Enjoying the show?” he asked, his voice smooth but edged with warning.

Arya crossed her arms, feigning nonchalance. “Just wondering what kind of shady guy hangs around alleys with a diary.”

His smirk didn’t reach his eyes. “Not your business, street rat.”

Arya’s blood boiled, but before she could retort, the sound of distant sirens filled the air. The stranger tensed, shoving the notebook into his pocket. He shot her one last glance, his expression unreadable, before bolting into the darkness.

She should’ve let him go, chalked it up as just another weirdo in the city. But something about him stuck—his urgency, his confidence, and the glimpse of a symbol on the notebook’s cover. A symbol she’d seen before, sprayed onto the side of a building just last week.

Without thinking, Arya took off after him, the thrill of the chase quickening her pulse. Whoever he was, he wasn’t just passing through. And if he was tied to the city’s secrets, she wanted in.

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