The Shadow Market felt wrong when Aiden returned.
Not louder.
Not more crowded.
Just… off, as if the tunnels beneath Twin-Moon Metropolis were aware that something dangerous had crossed their threshold.
Aiden staggered down the narrow passageway leading to Eldran's stall, one hand braced against the cold metal wall. The other hand clutched the shard so tightly that hairline cracks had formed along its surface from the strain.
Every few steps, his vision flickered.
Not from exhaustion.
From fractures—thin, ghostlike lines tearing across the air, each one pulsing faintly before dissolving.
The parasite reacted to each crease like a feral animal scented blood.
Energy anomaly detected.
Interference with host perception rising.
Stabilization required immediately.
"Yeah," Aiden muttered weakly. "Working on it."
His boots scuffed across the Market floor. Vendors glanced at him and then quickly looked away. His aura was too volatile—too corrupted—to risk proximity.
One Rift-ink merchant hissed under her breath.
"Parasite-burned," she whispered. "He's leaking cycle-warp."
Aiden didn't bother denying it.
He was leaking warp.
He could feel it with every heartbeat—
every throb of the wound on his shoulder—
every pulse from the shard still radiating unstable resonance.
He forced his legs to keep moving.
Past the bone lanterns.
Past the cursed relic stalls.
Past the shadow-beast cages rattling with unease.
Until, finally—
Eldran's stall glowed into view.
Blue flame.
Rift-glass panels.
A haze of forbidden chemicals swirling above the workbench.
Eldran looked up.
And froze.
"Aiden," he said. "You look worse than I expected."
Aiden didn't slow. He dropped the shard onto the counter hard enough to crack the wood.
It pulsed violently once—
then dimmed.
As if the Market itself absorbed its hostility.
"I got it," Aiden rasped. "Now give me the stabilizers."
Eldran reached for the shard with slow, careful fingers.
When he touched it, his eyes widened a fraction.
"This… this is far stronger than a Tier-1 shard," he whispered. "It's mutated. How did you—"
Aiden grabbed the front of Eldran's coat, pulling him close.
"Stabilizers," he said through gritted teeth. "Now."
Eldran raised both hands in surrender.
"Fine. But you need to hear something first."
Aiden tensed.
Eldran nodded toward Aiden's shadow-mantle.
"It's changed," the alchemist said softly. "Your parasite isn't behaving like any known strain. It's mutating outside documented pathways."
Aiden swallowed hard.
"I know."
"No," Eldran insisted. "You don't."
He snapped his fingers, activating a series of scanners above the table. Holograms flickered to life—pulsing diagrams of Aiden's nervous system overlaid with shadow-coded nodes and branching evolution trees.
Eldran's voice dropped.
"This mutation pattern… didn't originate in you."
Aiden blinked. "What does that mean?"
"It means," Eldran said slowly, "something else is influencing your parasite's evolution. Something external. Something intelligent."
A cold chill spread through Aiden's gut.
Kael's warning echoed in his mind.
Someone tampered with the timeline.
Someone altered your regression.
Someone wants you to become the Singularity.
Aiden's fingers tightened into fists.
Eldran continued, unaware he'd struck a nerve.
"Your parasite's mutation tree is no longer linear. It's… recursive."
Aiden stiffened.
Recursive evolutions were theoretical—
a mutation loop that fed into itself, accelerating exponentially.
A pathway that could skip entire tiers.
A pathway that could break reality.
Eldran tapped the projection.
"Look here. Your Shadow-Fang now connects directly to higher-tier nodes it should not access for years. This is impossible without external interference."
Aiden whispered:
"Can you stop it?"
Eldran's mouth twitched.
"I can delay it. But stopping it outright? No."
Aiden's knees weakened.
Eldran saw it and quickly pulled out a reinforced case of crystalline vials—stabilizers glowing with layered blue rings.
"These are the strongest stabilizers I can make without alerting the Guild," he said. "They'll suppress memory devour, reduce corruption spikes, and slow forced evolutions by at least 30%."
Aiden's breath trembled.
"Give them to me."
Eldran held up one finger.
"But—"
Aiden nearly exploded. "No more conditions—"
"This isn't a condition," Eldran said. "It's a warning."
He pointed at the projection again.
"Your parasite has unlocked a new slot."
Aiden blinked.
"What slot?"
Eldran's expression hardened.
"The Memory Slot."
Aiden froze.
His heart stopped.
The parasite whispered in a voice like smooth knives:
Memory-Devour Protocol:
Unlocked.
Awaiting command.
Aiden felt sick.
He stepped back from the table, shadows tightening around him in panic.
Eldran sighed.
"I hoped it wouldn't come to this," he murmured, "but your parasite can now consume not just your memories—"
He looked up, eyes grave.
"—but the memories of others."
Aiden stared at him, horror washing through every vein.
"No," Aiden whispered. "I won't. I refuse."
Eldran lowered his gaze.
"You may not get a choice."
Aiden's breath shattered.
Because deep inside him—
beneath fear, beneath denial—
the parasite purred with dark anticipation.
Memory-Devour available.
Potential limitless.
Host resistance: irrelevant.
Aiden stumbled backward.
The world dimmed.
His shadow-mantle twitched like a starving creature tasting the future.
He forced out a single, shaking breath:
"What… is happening to me?"
Aiden braced himself against the stall wall, lungs burning, vision pulsing with fragments of half-formed shadows. His reflection in Eldran's Rift-glass panel was barely recognizable—eyes ringed with residual corruption, shadow-mantle flaring in uneven, agitated waves.
He whispered, "I'm not devouring anyone's memories. Do you understand me? No matter what this thing wants."
The parasite responded with cold indifference.
Memory-Devour is optimal evolution route.
Resistance noted.
Resistance ignored.
Aiden's stomach twisted painfully.
Eldran gathered the stabilizer vials into a reinforced satchel and gently slid it across the counter toward him.
"These will buy you time," the alchemist said. "Not control. Not safety. Just… time."
Aiden swallowed hard and took the satchel.
When his fingers touched the glass, his shadow flickered violently, reacting to the stabilizers' energy signature. Blue light rippled across his palm like frost crawling over steel.
Eldran exhaled softly.
"You're running hot. Too hot."
"Tell me something I don't know."
"No—listen." Eldran leaned forward, lowering his voice. "Your parasite is evolving without triggers. That's not normal. The evolution tree is accelerating on its own."
Aiden's pulse shot up.
"Like Kael said…"
Eldran blinked. "Kael?"
Aiden froze.
"Nothing," he said quickly. "Go on."
Eldran frowned but didn't push.
"Your parasite is mutating toward a Paradox-State pathway. That only happens under specific conditions."
Aiden swallowed. "What conditions?"
Eldran raised one finger.
"One: The host experiences catastrophic timeline divergence."
He raised a second.
"Two: The host's regression is not a clean loop."
Aiden blinked. "Meaning…?"
Eldran's expression tightened.
"Meaning whoever triggered your regression didn't bring you back cleanly. They dragged pieces of other timelines with you."
A chill slid down Aiden's spine.
Lyra's paradox flickers.
Kael's half-memories.
The Dominion shard showing up early.
The Shardborn in a Rank-E dungeon.
It all fell into place.
"You're saying…" Aiden whispered, "someone tampered with my rebirth."
Eldran nodded once.
"And whatever they did—it's destabilizing the entire time stream."
Aiden's knees nearly buckled.
Eldran continued carefully:
"When a parasite senses the host is entangled with multiple timelines, it opens the Memory Slot early. It's trying to anchor itself. To survive the paradox."
Aiden gripped the stabilizer bag tighter.
"And what happens if I don't use it?"
Eldran's voice dropped to a whisper.
"Then the parasite will feed without permission."
Aiden's breath stopped.
"It will take memories you haven't chosen to lose," Eldran said. "And eventually… it will take memories that aren't yours."
Aiden shook his head violently. "No. No. I won't let it."
"You can't fight a recursive parasite with will alone," Eldran warned. "You need something to anchor your identity."
Aiden froze.
Only one person anchored him strongly enough to survive a paradox.
Lyra.
But she was already glitching.
Already remembering things she shouldn't.
Already echoing across fractures.
He couldn't risk dragging her deeper into this.
He didn't respond.
Eldran watched him closely.
"You're thinking of someone," he said quietly. "Someone the parasite responds to."
Aiden's expression hardened.
"Doesn't matter," he said. "I'm not involving her."
"Her," Eldran repeated softly. "Ah. Then you're already lost."
Aiden's shadow snapped up defensively.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means the parasite has already chosen her as your Resonance Anchor." Eldran nodded toward the projection. A glowing node pulsed near the memory tree—a node shaped like two interlocking rings.
Aiden felt his blood freeze.
That node—
It reflected one thing:
A Resonance Bond.
A tether between two souls.
A pathway formed only through intense emotional gravity.
Eldran tapped it gently.
"If this bond evolves before you stabilize," he said, "your parasite may imprint on her. It may try to use her. It may even try to fuse your memories."
Aiden's heart slammed in his chest.
"No," Aiden said immediately. "I am not letting this thing anywhere near her mind."
Eldran sighed.
"That's the tragedy of anchors, Crowe. They're not chosen by logic. They're chosen by inevitability."
Aiden turned away, fists trembling.
Behind him, Eldran spoke again—softer than before.
"You're becoming something dangerous, Aiden. Something powerful. Something the Guild, the Church, the regressors, even the world itself isn't prepared for."
Aiden's voice cracked.
"I don't want to become anything."
Eldran's eyes narrowed.
"But you will."
Aiden stumbled out of the stall.
The Shadow Market seemed to close in around him—the heat oppressive, the air sharpened with whispers, the vendors pulling back as if sensing a storm walking on two legs.
He pressed a hand against his pounding skull.
Every footstep sent tremors through the shard inside his coat.
The parasite purred, awakened by the shard's proximity.
Memory Slot active.
Resonance Anchor detected.
Awaiting sequence.
"No," Aiden growled under his breath. "You stay out of my mind."
The parasite paused—
Then issued a cold reply.
Not your mind.
Hers.
Aiden froze mid-step.
Shadow condensed around him involuntarily.
He clenched his fists so hard his nails cut skin.
"No. I won't let you touch Lyra. I won't let you near her memories. Not ever."
The parasite didn't respond.
It didn't need to.
Aiden knew it was waiting.
Watching.
Predicting.
Calculating the moment he would be too weak to resist.
He pushed forward through the tunnels.
He had to leave.
He had to breathe.
He had to get away before the Market's fractures triggered another resonance.
But just before he reached the exit stairwell—
A voice echoed down the corridor.
"Aiden?"
His heart stopped.
He turned.
Lyra stood at the bottom of the steps.
Alone.
Confused.
Silver eyes shimmering faintly in the torchlight.
"Aiden," she whispered again. "Why… why do I keep seeing you in places I've never been?"
A crack tore through reality behind her.
Just a hairline fracture.
But he saw it.
And she saw it too.
Her breath trembled.
"Aiden… what's happening to me?"
Aiden's parasite surged in violent hunger.
ANCHOR PRESENT.
INITIATE RESONANCE—
Aiden's scream tore from his throat.
Lyra froze at the sound of Aiden's shout.
Her hand hovered near her chest, gripping the fabric of her academy jacket as if grounding herself against a storm no one else could see. The fracture behind her flickered with faint silver light—cold, thin, trembling.
Aiden felt the timeline tightening around her like a noose.
His shadow-mantle flared dangerously.
The parasite thrashed inside him, ecstatic.
RESONANCE ANCHOR CONFIRMED.
INITIATING MEMORY-LINK SEQUENCE.
PREPARE—
"No!" Aiden snarled through clenched teeth. "You don't touch her. You don't touch her mind!"
He forced every ounce of strength he had into suppressing the surge. The shadow-fangs quivered violently, flattening against his back like bristling wings trying to break free.
Lyra swallowed.
"Aiden…" she whispered, stepping forward. "Why are you afraid of me?"
He backed away instinctively.
He didn't want to.
But he had to.
"Stay there," he said, voice barely steady. "Please. Don't come closer."
Her brows pulled together, hurt mixing with confusion.
"Did I do something wrong?"
The pain in her voice forced something sharp through Aiden's chest.
"No," he whispered. "Not you. Never you."
A crack in the air widened.
Just a few centimeters—
just enough to whistle with pressure.
Lyra shivered.
"I keep… seeing things," she said softly. "Flashes. Shadows. A man dying. A city burning. You dying."
Aiden froze.
His heart stilled.
Lyra blinked rapidly, breath hitching as if fighting off a migraine.
"I don't understand it," she whispered. "But when I look at you, I feel… like I've lost you before."
Aiden felt reality tilt.
Lyra wasn't supposed to remember this much.
Not now.
Not this soon.
The only way she could access memories from a dead timeline was—
Someone tampered with her too.
The parasite surged again.
ANCHOR AWAKENING DETECTED.
SEQUENCE INITIATION IMMINENT.
HOST—RELEASE CONTROL.
Aiden forced it down with everything he had.
"No. I won't let you use her. I won't lose her like this."
Lyra hesitated, stepping closer anyway, unaware she was walking straight toward a collapsing probability field.
"Aiden…"
Her voice cracked.
"Who are you really?"
Something inside Aiden broke.
He lifted his head slowly.
"I'm someone," he whispered, "who can't let you get hurt again."
Lyra's breath trembled.
"Aiden… what does 'again' mean?"
But before he could answer—
before he could stop her—
the fracture behind Lyra shuddered violently.
Lyra cried out, stumbling as the ground beneath her flickered between present and past, between the unbroken city and the apocalypse to come.
Aiden lunged forward.
His shadow-mantle flared so violently the tunnel lights went out.
He grabbed her wrist.
Lyra gasped—and their fingers locked.
Their pulses collided.
Their memories brushed.
The air imploded into silence.
Then—
[RESONANCE SLOT ACTIVATED]
[ANCHOR SYNCHRONIZATION: 1%… 2%… 3%…]
Lyra's eyes widened as something invisible surged between them.
Aiden felt her breath stutter.
He felt her mind echo.
He felt the parasite reaching for her—
[SEQUENCE EXPANDING]
[ANCHOR ACCESSING PARADOX MEMORY STREAM]
"No—NO—STOP!" Aiden roared.
He yanked his hand away—
But it was already too late.
A single flash seared through Lyra's mind.
A memory not from this world.
Not from this timeline.
Aiden falling.
Burning.
Reaching for her hand—
as she screamed his name through choking ash.
Lyra staggered backward, clutching her head, tears streaking down her cheeks.
"Aiden… I saw you die…"
Aiden's voice cracked.
"Lyra—don't—"
She dropped to her knees.
The fracture behind her split open a little more.
The timeline screamed.
And Aiden realized the truth with cold clarity:
Lyra wasn't remembering randomly.
She wasn't glitching by accident.
Her paradox memory was being pulled through the cracks.
Something was forcing her toward a premature awakening.
Something wanted her anchor link complete.
Something wanted Aiden's evolution accelerated.
He knelt beside her carefully, shadows retreating at his will.
"Lyra…" His voice was barely breath. "Look at me."
She did—eyes blurred with tears and fear and recognition that shouldn't exist.
Aiden cupped her cheek with a trembling hand—
just enough to steady her,
not enough to trigger the parasite again.
"I won't let anything take your memories," he whispered. "Not the parasite. Not the timeline. Not anything."
Lyra closed her eyes, trembling against his palm.
"Aiden… what's happening to us?"
He exhaled raggedly.
"Something we're not ready for."
The parasite spoke—
A whisper of prophecy in its cold mechanical tone:
ANCHOR LINK: DELAYED.
BUT INEVITABLE.
Aiden ignored it.
He pulled Lyra gently to her feet, grip steady despite the way the world trembled.
He would not let her break.
Not again.
A distant siren wailed in the tunnels above.
Someone shouted.
Boots pounded.
Guild forces.
Aiden stiffened.
They couldn't find Lyra here.
Not in the Market.
Not near a paradox fracture.
Not with her mind in this fragile state.
He wrapped an arm around her gently.
"We need to move," he said softly. "I'll explain everything. I swear. But right now… trust me."
Lyra swallowed, leaning into him for balance.
"I already do," she murmured. "Even if I don't know why."
Aiden's heart twisted.
He guided her toward the exit, stabilizer satchel clinking at his side, the shard pulsing through his coat, the parasite whispering in hunger.
The timeline groaned.
And somewhere deep in the Market—
another fracture opened.
The world was beginning to unravel.
And Aiden Crowe had never been more afraid.