The streets of Voltixol hummed with a quiet rhythm — neon veins running beneath glass towers, whispering with the pulse of invisible electricity. The air smelled faintly of ozone and rain. Drones drifted overhead like lazy fireflies, their light reflections bending across puddles.
Kael walked beside Rykas, both wrapped in dark, weather-resistant coats. The rain wasn't heavy, but it carried a certain weight, the kind that made even silence feel alive.
Rykas tilted his head toward a hovering news screen. "Still no trace of Eryndor," he muttered. "His ID tags haven't pinged in any quadrant."
Kael didn't answer. His reflection in the shop window stared back — same tired eyes, same ghost of a question that had followed him since morning.
Eryndor's absence was more than a disappearance. It felt like a missing rhythm in time.
They entered a small café nestled between two old libraries — one digital, one physical. The place smelled of coffee, steel, and wet pavement.
"Rykas," Kael said quietly, breaking the silence as they sat. "You remember the Verse we learned back in school?"
Rykas leaned back, his blade handle faintly visible beneath his coat. "The one about the Mother Oil?"
Kael nodded. "Yeah. The teacher said the kings saved two worlds with it. But… what if it wasn't just a story?"
Rykas smirked. "You're thinking too deep again."
"Maybe." Kael's gaze drifted out the window. "Or maybe not deep enough."
A quiet vibration rippled through the glass. The neon outside flickered once, then stabilized.
No one else noticed — except Kael.
For a second, everything around him paused. The sound of the rain, the drone hum, even Rykas' breath — frozen.
He blinked. The world snapped back.
Rykas frowned. "You okay?"
Kael rubbed his temples. "Yeah. Just… dizzy."
He wasn't sure what had just happened, but his heart beat out of rhythm — as if time itself had skipped a beat with him.
They left the café as the rain stopped. The city seemed washed clean, though the tension in Kael's chest hadn't faded.
Halfway across the street, a flickering holo-poster caught his eye:
"Missing Citizen: Eryndor Vale. Last seen—"
The rest glitched out, replaced by a burst of static.
Rykas' voice dropped. "That wasn't like that this morning."
Kael stared. "It's like the data rewrote itself."
Rykas' hand brushed the sword hilt instinctively. "Something's wrong with this city, Kael."
Kael exhaled slowly. "Or with time itself."
The two moved through Voltixol's outskirts — where the glow dimmed and the ruins began. Abandoned stations, broken AI units, fragments of old world tech scattered among weeds and rust.
A faint orange-gold light shimmered between the cracks of the pavement, pulsing softly. Kael crouched, running a finger through it. The glow tingled — warm, alive.
"Rykas… this feels—"
Before he could finish, the light coiled around his hand and vanished, leaving faint golden trails in the air.
Rykas stared. "You tell me that's normal."
Kael looked at his hand — the faint glow lingering. "No," he whispered. "It's not."
Somewhere in the distance, a clock tower chimed — thirteen times.
The city had never struck thirteen.
Rykas glanced toward the sound, uneasy. "Kael…"
Kael stood silent, eyes fixed on the horizon where the neon lights bent and rippled like heat waves.
"Something's waking up," he murmured. "And I think it remembers us."