The morning fog had lifted, but the city of Sira remained alive with whispers unseen. Every street, alley, and rooftop seemed to hum with subtle movement, like the city itself was aware of him.
Prince—inside Nasir's body—walked calmly, cataloging every sound, every shadow. His hands brushed against the walls as he passed; faint markings, almost invisible, traced along bricks. Sigils of old, some warnings, some permissions.
The city is layered, he thought. Every step leaves a trace. Every choice echoes.
Testing the Reflection
Prince paused in a small courtyard, the cobblestones slick with morning dew. He closed his eyes, extending awareness beyond Nasir's body. The threads of his first Reflection Avatar rippled faintly in response.
He imagined movement—subtle gestures, patterns, shifts—and the Reflection mirrored them, responding almost instinctively.
It was not a weapon. It was perception. Awareness made manifest.
Strength lies not in the body, but in understanding, Prince reminded himself.
The Masked Watchers Return
A sudden shift in the ambient threads caught his attention. Three masked figures moved along the edge of the courtyard, their pace deliberate, precise.
Prince's eyes narrowed. They were Veil Watchers—agents trained to observe, intercept, enforce.
He did not flee. He moved into the shadow of a building, letting the Reflection Avatar extend silently, tracing their positions, cataloging their speed, noticing the smallest hesitations in their stance.
They are aware of me, but they do not yet understand, he thought.
A single nod of thought—subtle, deliberate—and the Reflection flickered, forming a faint, ghostly duplicate that seemed to step into their path. One masked watcher paused instinctively, sensing something, then dismissed it.
Prince remained calm, the city humming softly around him.
A Whisper of the Factions
Lyric's warning echoed in his mind: Many will try to guide it. Few will let you choose freely.
As he watched the masked enforcers disappear into the alleyways, Prince realized the city was alive in more than one way. Threads of hidden factions pulsed faintly through the air—collectors of secrets, enforcers of rules, observers of the Veil.
And all of them had noticed him.
The question was: would they attempt to control him, or wait to see where he chose to step next?
Understanding the Veils
Prince extended his consciousness further. The threads of the Veils intertwined subtly with the city itself, pulling him toward hidden patterns. He could sense areas of high activity, zones marked by the Veil for specific purposes.
Not all paths were visible to ordinary people. Not all consequences were immediate.
He traced the threads with careful thought. Every pattern he saw became a map of potential futures. Every stray action had a ripple.
Patience. Observation. Understanding before action.
Prince breathed slowly. This city had layers, and he had barely touched the first.
The Reflection Avatar shimmered faintly beside him, a reminder: the body was Nasir's, yes, but the soul—calculating, patient, aware—was still Prince.
Sira had begun to unfold its secrets. And he was ready to see every hidden corner.