Under the soft light of the setting sun, Elijah Blackwood moved through the crowd like a shadow, perfectly invisible to those around him. His gait was elegant, controlled, with each step marked by an almost predatory precision. The cold evening wind made the edges of his dark coat ripple as his gray gaze drifted through the faces of the passersby.

There was no fixed destination in his mind, or at least, that’s what it seemed like. There was something that unsettled him, a latent sensation beneath his skin, as if the very air itself were charged with an unusual energy. The routine and noise of the city surrounded him, but they couldn’t distract him. Deep down, Elijah had always felt that his life was governed by something deeper, an instinctive drive that led him toward the inevitable.

His thoughts were a chaotic order, each one intertwined with memories he would rather forget, yet they never fully left him. As he continued walking through the narrow streets, something began to stir inside him, an intuition he could not ignore. A spark of curiosity, of interest... but he didn’t yet know why.

His fingers, hidden beneath black leather gloves, clenched slightly, as if the simple act of tightening his hands could give him control over what was beginning to slip away from him—the feeling that destiny was about to present itself in its most unpredictable form.