Sparks spit and scatter across the dim garage as Lucien leans over the engine part, the metal whining under his drill. The sharp smell of burning steel fills the air, mixing with the faint scent of oil. His goggles fog slightly from the heat, but his mind drifts far, far away, back to that mysterious man in the Prey jersey.
The way he stared.
The strange pull Lucien felt.
The unsettling familiarity he refuses to acknowledge.
To the way he couldn't sense him at all, almost like he was invisible
He shakes his head hard, snapping himself back. Focus, he reminds himself. Focus on the bolts. Focus on the machine. Focus on anything except that man's stare echoing through his skull. He needed to fix Hunter's bike before the next round
The garage door creaks open.
Lucien stops working, as he stared at the sound ,
Hunter steps in, sweat still clinging to his neck from the race, his breathing calm but his eyes burning with something else. Something sharp.
