The cab ride was quiet.

  Elias leaned against the window, watching the city blur past in streaks of neon and shadow.

  He hated paying for things when he didn’t have to, and right now, he definitely didn’t want to.

  But Sera had given him a look. And somehow, instead of arguing, he had begrudgingly reached for his wallet, handing over what little cash he had left.

  Now, as he counted the bills in his pocket, he let out a slow, suffering sigh.

  “This is your fault,” he muttered.

  Sera, sitting beside him, didn’t look up. “How is this my fault?”

  “ I thought we would just shift there like Valen does.”

  Sera raised an eyebrow. “Would you rather walk?”

  Elias scowled. “I would rather have money.”

  Sera looked unimpressed. “You could get out now.”

  Elias didn’t answer.

  Because he knew he was being unreasonable.

  And that annoyed him even more.

  —

  The cab finally stopped in front of a old building near the river district. It didn’t look like much—just another run-down part of the city, the kind of place people passed by without a second glance.

  The air was damp, the scent of the river clinging to the streets, mixing with the oil and smoke of distant traffic. The city lights didn’t quite reach here, casting long, distorted shadows over the cracked pavement.

  Elias stepped out first, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he scanned the area.

  “Where’s the temple?” he asked.

  Sera didn’t answer right away. Her gaze was distant, searching, as if she wasn’t just looking at the world but through it.

  And then—

  She stilled.

  Elias felt it.

  A shift

  Similar to the Pawn Shops—but the weight felt different.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  It was different.

  Something else.

  The space in front of them—shifted.

  His breath caught.

  One second, it was just an empty street.

  The next—

  There was a temple.

  —

  It wasn’t grand like but it still instilled a sense of awe.

  It wasn’t the kind of towering, structure thatwas built to honor gods.

  It seemed like amodest collection of stone steps leading up to a shrine carved into the very bones of the city. The walls felt like they had aged perfectly with time, the symbols etched into the stone a untouched by time.

  Seemingly fitting in the surrounding, like it had always been there.

  The whole world just refused to acknowledge it.

  Elias swallowed. “Okay. This is interesting.”

  —

  He turned to Sera.

  She was wary.

  Not in the way she usually was—ready to fight, calculating, always a step ahead.

  This was different.

  She felt here. Not in a way that meant she didn’t belong—but in a way that meant the space around them was reacting to her, adjusting, trying to figure out how to accommodate something it didn’t understand, an enigma seven here.

  “What’s wrong?” Elias asked.

  Sera didn’t answer immediately.

  Then, slowly—

  “This place... ...the influence of the Pawn Shops on reality is almost non existent here,” she murmured.

  Elias frowned. “What? How?”

  Sera exhaled, glancing at him" I expected something similar but not this exaggerated, I guess..." Before she continued, Sera asked

  Have you heard ofconstraints before?”

  Elias scoffed. “I think I passed middle school, thanks.”

  Sera ignored him.

  “The world you live isn’t just a space where things happen, Elias. It has rules. Structures. Not just physics, but conceptual constraints—barriers that prevent reality from shifting too far beyond what it can sustain.”

  Elias raised an eyebrow. “...In English?”

  Sera sighed.

  “Humans in this world are restricted. Not just physically, but conceptually. There are things they can’t interact with. Can’t perceive. Their minds filter out things that break the rules because reality itself rejects anything that doesn’t fit.”

  She motioned around them.

  “This temple—this space—is beyond human awareness. It’s part of an old power, one that was buried under new rules.”

  Elias' gaze flickered back to the shrine. “So that’s what happened. Then why can I see it?”

  Sera nodded. “Because I can bypassed the constraint for you.”

  Elias’ stomach twisted. “How?”

  Sera glanced at him.

  Then, softly—

  “Because I can do so.”

  —

  Elias thought.

  Sera wasn’t like Valen. She wasn’t a Lie Seller.

  But she wasn’t human, either.

  So it made sense if her presence had bypassed some ancient-sounding constraint.

  “What does this mean?” he asked.

  Sera’s gaze darkened.

  “It means the Pawn Shops aren’t the only things that can shape reality.”

  —

  Elias exhaled sharply, trying to process.

  The Pawn Shops could twist the world because they operated on Lies that became Truth.

  But this?

  This felt just too similar but weaker, almost different like it worked on a different principle but the same power???

  Like it was something else entirely.

  Elias ran a hand through his hair. “Alright. Since the Pawn Shops can bypass constraints with Lies. How does this place do it?”

  Sera studied the temple.

  Then, quietly—

  “I'm not sure..”

  Elias frowned, he wasn't expecting that.

  Sera glanced at him.

  “Every system, power, world's, concept, reality, being annd so on has a breaking point. The world can tolerate a certain level of deviation before it corrects itself. If something pushes beyond that critical threshold—it doesn’t break. It adapts.”

  She gestured to the shrine.

  “This place is an adaptation. An anomaly that was too persistent to be erased, so reality folded around it instead, it feels similar to the pawn shops but i really can't say.”

  Elias swallowed. “So it’s another supposed power not meant to exist in this world.”

  Sera gave him a small nod.

  —

  They climbed the steps.

  The air grew heavier.

  Not in weight, but in meaning.

  Elias felt watched, but not like before—not like in the Pawn Shops, where unseen eyes tracked his every move

  Elias turned to Sera.

  She seemed calm, but Elias knew this was just a fa?ade.

  “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Elias asked.

  Sera didn’t answer.

  Instead, she stepped forward—

  And the shrine responded.

  The air shuddered.

  The symbols on the stone shifted, reforming themselves as if welcoming something long overdue.

  And then—the world shifted.

  Elias froze.

  His heart pounded.

  The temple of dolos, though most wouldn’t call it that anymore. It was tied to an old god—one people had mostly forgotten. But it was still there.

  Dolos Greek god of trickery and deception. The apprentice of Prometheus, the one who created a false version of god, a statue so perfect it was indistinguishable from the real thing.

  A lie so well-crafted that even the gods were fooled.

  There was a sect of worshippers who believed Dolos wasn’t just a deceiver, but the keeper of hidden truths. That lies weren’t just illusions, but reflections of truths waiting to be uncovered.

  In an act to connect to that truth this shrine was built

  Now a forgotten shrin, but had the power to lead those searching onto a world of mystery and wonders , one ruled by dolos.

  It was said to hold echoe

  s of the past—whispers of things even the Pawn Shops couldn’t erase were there.

  A was part a force as old—if not older—than the Pawn Shops themselves.

  And now—this world has taken an interest in this enigmatic duo