Seeing the city at night, is quite.. fascinating.. tons of people, and cars well.. this place is brimmed with rich people and the wannabes.
The sea air near the docks carried a warm kind of weariness where salt, iron, and diesel were blending into something faintly metallic. Old cranes stood against the horizon like crooked sentinels. Beyond them, the city pulsed with club lights and sirens that never quite reached this far.
Aran sat on the edge of a weather-stained pier, feet dangling just above the water. He wore the same plain hoodie and jeans that had followed him across states, and the best part? He doesn't smell bad, what kind of a immortal cultivator he is if he smell awful? Luckily Aran had alot of some eventful experiences during his time.
He held a paper bag with two empanadas and a bottle of cola resting beside him. Every so often, a ripple of wind brushed through his hair, carrying with it the low hum of ships anchored farther down the bay.
It was quite peaceful
He watched the reflection of the city lights tremble on the water, like painted stars forced to move. For a while, he didn't need to think about where he is right now, just letting the moment pass.
Someone approached.
Slow, uneven footsteps scraping across the dock. Aran didn't look until the man spoke.
"Mind if I sit?"
The voice came rough, weary. The man was in his late thirties, maybe forty. Grease stains on his tank top, calloused hands, a paper cup clutched tight. He looked like the kind of person who worked with metal all day and thought too much at night.
"Go ahead" Aran said, moving the cola aside. He offered one of the empanadas because why not?
The man hesitated, then took it. "Thanks. Didn't think I'd get dinner with the view"
"Views are free," Aran replied. "But they taste better with food"
The man chuckled. "Goddamn ain't that the truth"
They ate quietly. Farther down the pier, a buoy bell chimed every few seconds — a small, patient sound against the restless city.
After a while, the man said, "Name's Marco. Used to fix boats around here, until work dried up after the owner sold the place but I still come here to think, though. Feels… shitty"
Aran nodded "Honesty's rare water."
Marco gave him a side glance, amused. "You talk fancy for a guy eating street food.\"
"I read too much" Aran said lightly, though his eyes stayed on the tide. "And travel more than I should."
They fell into small talk, the kind that didn't need effort. Marco mentioned the heat, the rent, the girl who played violin near the pier on Fridays. Aran shared a story about a tea that tasted like rain, and Marco laughed until his shoulders eased. The night grew softer around them.
At one point, Marco asked, "You from around here?"
"Nowhere in particular," Aran said. "But tonight, maybe here"
Marco nodded like that made perfect sense. He stared into his cup. "You ever feel like the world keeps getting louder, but people forget what quiet sounds like?"
"Every day," Aran said. "That's why I sit by the water"
Marco smiled faintly. "Then you're smarter than most"
They shared a silence that wasn't heavy. The waves lapped the dock's wooden ribs. Somewhere distant, metal clanged against metal, a sound like the start of something.
Marco squinted. "They doing some construction down there?"
Aran tilted his head. The air carried a strange tension, faint but rising, as if a storm were trying to disguise itself as machinery. He could feel it through the Qi — energy rippling like disturbed sand beneath the ocean.
"Maybe" he said. "Probably a show"
Marco laughed softly. "Lucky us, then. Ain't often this place gets fireworks"
A heartbeat later, the horizon flashed.The night bloomed into color — orange, red, gold. Explosions flared like stars being born and dying in the same breath. The water lit up, shimmering like molten glass.
Marco whistled low. "Guess somebody's spending big tonight"
Aran just smiled. "Seems so"
He didn't say that far down the dock, a genius in a metal suit was burning his sky clean, ending a chapter of his own.
Marco raised his paper cup in a lazy salute. "To quiet nights that still surprise us"
Aran lifted his cola in return. "To that"
And for a long time after, they simply watched the lights fall over the sea — two men, two strangers, sharing the silence before the world remembered to make noise again.