Zylan stood on the veranda of a quiet city, his gaze unfocused as he took a slow drag from his cigarette. The night air was still, with not a sound to break the calm. His thoughts were distant, focused on nothing in particular when his phone vibrated in his pocket, disturbing the peaceful silence. He ignored it.
No one was supposed to call him at this hour. But the phone buzzed again, this time louder, and a sense of unease crept into his chest. It wasn't normal. Someone was calling at this time for a reason, and that reason could only mean one thing—an emergency.
With a sharp exhale, Zylan flicked the cigarette to the ground and crushed it beneath his boot. He pulled his phone from his pocket, staring at the screen for a moment before answering the call.
It was Rylan. Zylan knew something had gone wrong. He pressed the phone to his ear, his tone sharp with barely contained irritation.
"Rylan, speak. I have no time."
