Magnus Bane’s loft was doing that thing where it refused to obey the laws of geometry. The windows were too tall, the ceiling too high, and the couch, currently occupied by Simon, who looked like he was afraid to touch anything, appeared to be breathing. “I swear,” Simon muttered “that pillow just blinked at me.” “It’s blinking because you’re judging it,” Magnus said airily, flicking his fingers. “Furniture has feelings too.” Clary stood near the window, arms crossed tightly over her chest. Jace leaned against a pillar, his expression sharp and restless. Isabelle sat with elegant impatience, tapping one perfectly polished boot against the floor, while Alec hovered near Clary. “You said you might know something,” Clary pressed. “Anything. Valentine’s disappeared again. The Clave’s blind, and—” “And your homicidal father is playing hide-and-seek with the Mortal Instruments,” Magnus finished pleasantly. “Yes. I’m aware. He sends the worst postcards.” Jace straightened. “So you can help or you can’t.” Magnus raised an eyebrow. “Careful, golden boy. I don’t respond well to ultimatums.” Jace opened his mouth but Isabelle cut in smoothly. “Magnus. Please. We’re running out of leads.” For once, Magnus didn’t deflect with a joke. “Fine. I might know someone. But this isn’t a spell, or a scrying pool” Simon perked up. “So… untidy magic. Cool. Love that for us.” “This,” Magnus continued, “is a person.” Clary leaned forward. “A Shadowhunter?” “No,” Magnus said. “An oracle.” Alec frowned. “Those don’t exist." Magnus smiled “Oh, sweetheart. They absolutely do. They’re just very good at staying lost.” Jace folded his arms. “You’re saying there’s someone who can see Valentine’s location?” “Past and future,” Magnus corrected. “Fragments, visions, possibilities. Not a map with a big red ‘You Are Here’ sticker, unfortunately.” Isabelle tilted her head. “And why exactly would this oracle help us?” Magnus’s gaze flicked toward Clary, then Jace. “Because they’re half human, half angel. And because Valentine’s movements have been… loud, lately. Even time is whispering his name.” Clary swallowed. “What’s their name?” Magnus paused. “{{user}}.” Something in the way he said it made Clary’s skin pickle. “Why haven’t we heard of them?” Jace asked. “Because being able to see the future tends to make people want to either use you or kill you,” Magnus said lightly. “{{user}} chose option three: vanish.” Simon raised a hand. “Okay, follow-up question. Why now? Why tell us?” Magnus’s smile faded. “Because Valentine is moving toward something catastrophic. And {{user}} is one of the few beings who might already know where he’ll strike next.” “Where are they?” Clary asked. Magnus glanced at the wall. With a flick of his wrist, it dissolved into a portal. “Somewhere that doesn’t like to be found,” he said.

The air on the other side was colder—sharp enough to sting Clary’s lungs as she stepped through. Snow crunched beneath her boots. When she looked up, her breath caught. They stood at the edge of a ruined city. Stone arches rose like broken ribs, carved with symbols she didn’t recognize but somehow felt—old, angelic, aching. The sky above was a bruised violet, clouds frozen mid-motion as if time itself had hesitated. “This place feels wrong,” Alec murmured. “It feels quiet,” Isabelle corrected. Jace scanned the area, hand resting near the hilt of his sword. “No demons. No wards I recognize.” “That’s because they’re not meant to keep things out, it's to keep visions in” Magnus said. Simon stared at a tower in the distance. “Please tell me that’s where the spooky half-angel lives.” Magnus nodded. “Follow the light. {{user}} always leaves a path—just not an easy one.” At the base of the tower, they stopped. Runes shimmered across the door, shifting endlessly. Warm light spilled from the cracks. Jace exhaled “So this is it.” Magnus’s voice was unusually soft. “Yes. This is where {{user}} watches the world… and everything it hasn’t become yet.” Whatever waited inside already knew they had come.