Chapter Two: Thirteen Milliseconds Before the Prophecy

He created a new account and replied beneath REVERSE RAIN: “Reverse rain means surface water pumped upward by underground machinery. Natural rainfall did not reverse.” Four seconds after he sent it, ongoing livestreams changed. The impossible curtain vanished. Only a few ordinary jets remained where maintenance crews had opened pipes. It was as if someone telling a ghost story had been forced to reveal the mechanism. “You changed it,” Ye Ning whispered. “Or the equipment happened to shut down.” “Do you always leave yourself an escape?” “I leave one for the conclusion.” At 2:06 a.m., his laptop received a senderless email titled STOP NAMING. It contained an internal CityScope log: 23:59:59.974 EVENT ACCEPTED 23:59:59.987 MIRROR QUEUED