The streets of Glora were brighter now, the sun stretching across rooftops and alleyways, glinting off wet asphalt from last night's rain. I moved slowly, boots making soft thuds against the concrete, notebook tucked under my arm. The hum beneath my skin was there again, faint, like a distant drum something alive, almost impatient.
I kept my eyes low, scanning faces without making contact, listening to footsteps, engines, conversations. Loneliness had taught me to notice what others didn't the pauses between words, the twitch of a hand, the smell of someone carrying fear like perfume.
And then I saw her.
A woman, maybe thirty, her hair pulled into a tight bun, moving with purpose down the street. She wasn't running, but her eyes darted too quickly, scanning every corner as though she expected something or someone to appear. Something about her made my stomach tighten.
Our paths crossed near a narrow alley. She bumped into me. Not hard, just enough.
"Watch it," she said, voice clipped but not unkind. Her eyes flicked at me, sharp, assessing.
"Sorry," I muttered.
"You're… Waza, right?" she asked, hesitation in her tone, like she wasn't sure if she wanted confirmation.
I froze. The name sounded heavy, like it carried weight I didn't want to share. "Maybe," I said, careful, letting it linger as ambiguity.
Her eyes narrowed. "Good. I've been looking for you. Thought you might notice sooner or later."
Before I could ask what she meant, she slipped a folded piece of paper into my hand and walked past, disappearing into a crowd.
I unfolded it slowly, fingers trembling. Inside, a single line was written in careful script:
"The city watches. Not all shadows are empty. –S"
I looked up. Nothing. Just streets, vendors calling prices, people moving on with lives they didn't know they were being watched by.
The hum in my veins shifted, stronger this time, synchronized with my pulse. It wasn't dangerous. Not yet. But it was real, and it was waiting.
I folded the note, sliding it into my notebook, my eyes scanning the street. Who had sent it? And why me?
Glora kept moving, unaware, as I took a deep breath. The city had its rhythm, its secrets, and now, so did I.
For the first time in a while, loneliness wasn't the only thing pressing against my chest. Curiosity, caution, and something sharper,anticipation,crept in alongside it.