PREVIEW

...

A clear sky, a quiet street, and a sound that didn’t belong—low, guttural, mechanical.

It grew until it wrapped the block in tension.

The sun cast a soft gold over the slick London curb, still wet from the night’s drizzle.

Then came the vehicle: a matte-black transporter, sliding into view with the elegance of something that didn’t belong to this world.

Izan stood at the window, toothbrush in mouth, one eyebrow raised.

Behind him, Olivia padded in ...

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