Kael couldn't sleep. Every time he tried to close his eyes, he couldn't—the city continued speaking to him. He lay on his bed, staring at the cracked ceiling of his apartment. Control, not brute force.
He sat up. The pendant rested on his desk, silent. For once, it didn't glow. It didn't whisper. It was just there, resting. Kael didn't touch the pendant. Instead, he focused inward, just as Selene had told him to.
The world sharpened.
At first, nothing changed. Then, faint lines appeared at the edge of his vision—not clear, just faint and thin. Mana threads weaved themselves through the walls, the floor, the atmosphere. They pulsed faintly, reacting to his attention. Kael swallowed and narrowed his focus. On just one thing. Not everything.
He landed his gaze on the desk. Then the threads appeared around it. They grew clearer, connecting the wood, the metal screws, the damaged floor beneath it. He could feel the connection holding it in place.
Carefully, he reached for it—not with his hands, but with intent. The desk trembled. Kael instantly withdrew his intent.
"No," he muttered. "It's too much. I should lessen it."
He tried again, this time slower, more gently. The threads responded. The desk shifted—just a centimeter.
Kael exhaled, sweat covering his face. Pain flickered across his mind and body, but it didn't burst out; it stayed controlled, barely.
So this is what Selene meant.
Power wasn't about domination. It was about control, efficiency, timing.
Then, a sudden pressure brushed across his mind. Kael froze. Someone was watching. Not nearby, not around his sight, not physically.
The threads around the window shivered, disturbed by an unfamiliar pattern—sharp, observant. Kael's breath hitched as he gazed out the window. Across the street, on the roof of an abandoned building, a man stood silently. Black coat. Gloves. No insignia.
Kael felt it instantly. Not hostility. Not killing intent. Observation.
The man tilted his head slightly toward Kael's gaze, as if he already knew someone was watching. The threads around both of them tightened.
Kael's vision blurred. He tore his gaze away, gasping, as the pressure vanished. When he looked back at the location of the man, he saw nothing. Just an empty roof.
Eventually, the pendant vibrated once—soft, restrained. A warning.
Kael leaned back against the wall, sliding down until he was sitting on the floor. His hands shook—not from fear alone, but from clarity.
They weren't searching blindly anymore. They had found his location.
Somewhere in the city, far from Kael's apartment, a man closed a notebook and slipped it into his coat.
"Confirmed," he murmured.
"Artifact-born- awakening. Observer-aligned."
A faint smile touched his lips.
"Interesting."
Back in his room, Kael clenched his fists.
He didn't know who the man was.
He didn't know what Path the man walked.
But one thing was clear.
The city had noticed him.
The factions had noticed him. They knew his location.