The sky darkened gradually, the last traces of sunset fading into deep blue. The park lights flickered on one by one, bathing the paths in a soft, artificial glow. Lior stood up from the fountain's edge and slung his bag over his shoulder, the familiar weight settling against his side.
"We should head back," Kai said, stretching his arms. "It's getting late."
"Yeah," Lior replied, though his attention lingered on the park behind them. The Veil had gone quiet, retreating into a faint background hum. Whatever presence he'd sensed earlier was gone—or hiding too well for him to notice.
They left the park together, footsteps echoing lightly along the sidewalk. The city felt calmer at night, the usual noise softened into distant traffic and murmured voices drifting from nearby apartments.
Kai shoved his hands into his pockets. "You ever feel like things are… off sometimes?"
Lior glanced at him. "Off how?"
"I don't know," Kai said with a shrug. "Like you blink and miss something important. Probably just me being tired."
Lior didn't answer right away. His fingers brushed the strap of his bag, instinctively grounding himself. You're not wrong, he thought, but he couldn't say it out loud. Not yet.
As they walked, a figure stood across the street beneath a flickering streetlight. Lior's steps slowed for half a second. The Veil stirred—soft, restrained—but enough to make him notice. The person wasn't powerful in an overwhelming way, just… slightly above him. A quiet pressure, like standing too close to deep water.
The figure turned away and disappeared into a side street.
"You okay?" Kai asked.
"Yeah," Lior said quickly. "Thought I recognized someone."
They reached the intersection where their paths split. Kai pointed down the road. "Same time tomorrow?"
Lior nodded. "Yeah. See you."
Kai waved and jogged off, his presence fading into the night. Lior stood there a moment longer, listening to the city breathe around him. Only when he was sure he was alone did he start walking again.
The closer he got to home, the more aware he became of the cube. It wasn't active—no pulses, no sharp sensations—but it felt awake. Patient.
Inside his apartment, the lights flicked on with a soft hum. The place was quiet, the kind of quiet that made thoughts louder. Lior dropped his bag onto the small table and sat on the edge of his bed, staring at it.
He didn't open the bag.
Not yet.
Instead, he leaned back, staring at the ceiling. Images from the day replayed in his mind: the shadows in the park, the girl by the trees, the passerby whose presence felt heavier than it should have been. Patterns without explanations.
The Veil responded faintly, as if acknowledging his thoughts. It didn't give answers—only awareness.
Lior exhaled slowly. "I'm not ready," he murmured to the empty room.
Eventually, he lay down, sleep creeping in despite his racing thoughts. Outside, the city lights burned steadily, unaware of the subtle currents flowing beneath the surface of ordinary life.
And somewhere not too far away, others were moving—watching, waiting.
Lior didn't know it yet, but today hadn't just been another day.
It had been the last quiet one.