The evening air in Veradin was cooler than Gared expected.
After parting ways with the others outside the university gates, he began walking toward the quiet street that led to the neighborhood where he and his mother had just moved. The sky was slowly turning orange and purple as the sun sank behind the buildings, casting long shadows across the pavement.
The city felt different at sunset.
Less rigid.
Less formal.
The sharp lines of the tall buildings softened under the fading light, and the streets grew calmer as students and workers slowly disappeared into cafes, buses, and apartment buildings.
Gared walked with his hands in his pockets, replaying the day in his mind.
Ryan's confidence.
Daniel's quick thinking.
Austin's dry humor.
And Usher… who seemed to notice things before anyone else did.
A faint smile appeared on Gared's face.
"For a first day," he murmured to himself, "that wasn't bad."
He stopped at a small bakery on the corner of the street.
The warm yellow lights inside made the shop glow invitingly through the window. The smell of fresh bread and sugar drifted out each time the door opened.
Gared stepped inside and bought two small cakes—one for himself and one for his mother.
A few minutes later, he returned to the quiet street.
He carried the small paper box carefully as he walked, enjoying the calm moment after the long day.
At the intersection ahead, a traffic light turned red.
Gared stopped and waited.
Across the street stood an old shop with darkened windows. Its glass reflected the soft glow of the sunset and the faint movement of the city behind him.
Without thinking, Gared glanced at his reflection in the window.
At first, everything looked normal.
A young man holding a small box of cake.
A backpack slung over one shoulder.
A tired expression after a long first day at university.
Then something changed.
Gared frowned.
The reflection didn't look exactly right.
He leaned slightly closer to the glass.
For a moment, he thought it was just the light.
But then he saw it.
A faint glow around his wrist.
Green.
Soft.
Almost like a thin thread of light pulsing beneath the skin.
Gared immediately looked down at his real wrist.
Nothing.
No light.
No glow.
He slowly lifted his head and looked back at the reflection.
This time, the reflection had changed.
It was still him.
But not quite.
The figure in the glass stood taller.
Stronger.
His shoulders were broader, and his posture carried a quiet authority that Gared had never seen in himself before.
The clothes were different too.
Instead of his normal jacket and jeans, the reflection wore a long white garment marked with thin silver lines that shimmered faintly in the fading light.
Soft green energy moved around him in slow circles, like drifting mist.
Gared froze.
The reflection didn't move.
It simply looked back at him.
Calm.
Silent.
Watching.
A strange pressure spread through Gared's chest.
He stepped closer to the glass.
At that exact moment—
a voice called his name from behind.
"Gared!"
He turned quickly.
The reflection vanished.
When he looked back at the window, it showed only his normal image again.
Just a university student holding a box of cake at a quiet street corner.
Gared stared at the glass for several seconds.
"What… was that?"
The traffic light turned green.
Cars began moving again.
People crossed the street as if nothing unusual had happened.
But Gared's heart was still beating faster than normal.
He crossed the street slowly, resisting the urge to look at the window again.
In his mind, the image of the reflection remained clear.
It hadn't looked threatening.
But it hadn't looked normal either.
It had felt like something else.
Something waiting.
When he finally reached his building, Gared paused at the entrance before going inside.
From the apartment above, he could hear his mother moving around in the kitchen.
"Gared?" her voice called. "Is that you?"
He stepped inside and closed the door behind him.
"Yeah," he replied.
"How was your first real day?"
Gared hesitated for a brief moment.
Then he said,
"Good."
He looked down at his wrist again.
There was still no glow.
No mark.
Nothing unusual.
And yet…
he couldn't shake the feeling that something had already begun.
Meanwhile, Usher had returned home after the group parted ways at the university gate.
The house was as lively as ever.
His younger siblings were arguing loudly in the living room, their voices overlapping in a chaotic storm of complaints, while his mother called from the kitchen, reminding him—once again—to put his bag where it belonged.
Usher walked past them, shaking his head.
"Hey, calm down, all of you," he said tiredly. "It's been a long day."
No one listened.
He smiled faintly and continued toward his room.
Inside, he dropped his backpack onto the chair and stretched his shoulders before heading straight to the bathroom to wash his face.
He opened the faucet.
Cold water rushed out as usual.
Usher leaned closer to the sink and looked at his reflection in the mirror.
For a moment, he studied his own face.
Then he smiled.
"First day wasn't bad," he murmured.
He slid his hand under the running water.
And in that exact moment—
something changed.
The pressure of the water didn't increase.
It didn't stop either.
But the sensation shifted.
The water became… calmer.
Smoother.
As if it were responding to the warmth of his skin.
One small droplet separated from the stream.
But instead of falling—
it stopped.
Suspended in midair.
Usher froze.
His eyes locked onto the droplet.
It slowly rotated, hovering between his palm and the faucet.
Not falling.
Not rising.
Just… floating.
He whispered,
"Okay… that's new."
He moved his hand slightly.
The droplet moved with it.
His eyebrows rose in disbelief.
Carefully, he lifted another finger toward it.
The droplet split.
Two.
Then three.
Then the water stretched into a thin line that gently wrapped around his wrist like a tiny ribbon.
Usher laughed softly, shaking his head.
"No… no way."
At that exact moment, his mother's voice echoed from outside the bathroom.
"Usher? Have you been in there for an hour?"
He blinked.
The water instantly collapsed.
The droplets fell.
The stream returned to normal as if nothing unusual had happened.
Usher stared at his hands.
Nothing.
No light.
No water floating.
Just wet fingers.
He opened the door and answered casually,
"Coming!"
He returned to his room and sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his palm.
A slow smile appeared on his face.
He wasn't afraid.
Not even close.
If anything…
he was curious.
"If that was a dream," he muttered quietly, "it was a very interesting one."
Ryan's house was unusually quiet when he arrived.
The faint smell of disinfectant lingered in the air—something he had grown used to after years of living with parents who both worked at the hospital.
His father sat at the dining table reviewing a stack of documents, while his mother moved quickly in the kitchen preparing something simple before her night shift.
His father glanced up.
"How was your day?"
Ryan dropped his bag on the chair and sat across from him.
"Good," he said. "Better than I expected."
From the kitchen, his mother called out,
"Did you meet anyone?"
Ryan smiled slightly.
"Yeah. A guy named Gared. He just moved to Veradin yesterday. He seems really smart."
His father nodded approvingly.
"That's good. University isn't only about studying. Connections matter too."
Ryan leaned back slightly.
"We're meeting tomorrow morning before classes. After the orientation event, we might go out for dinner."
His mother paused in the kitchen.
"Tomorrow?"
"Yes. The freshman orientation party. Everyone's going."
She walked to the table and placed a plate down quietly.
"You're not going."
Ryan frowned.
"What? Why?"
She answered calmly,
"Your father and I both have night shifts tomorrow. Your sister needs someone here."
Ryan sat up.
"She can stay alone for a few hours."
"No."
The answer came instantly.
Ryan sighed.
"Mom… it's the first event at the university. Everyone will be there."
Her expression didn't change.
"Family comes first."
His voice rose before he could stop it.
"Why is it always me who has to stay?"
His father looked at him seriously but remained silent.
His mother spoke firmly.
"Because you're the older brother. End of discussion."
Ryan pushed his chair back.
The legs scraped loudly across the floor.
"Fine."
He walked upstairs and shut his bedroom door harder than he intended.
For a moment, he just stood there.
His breathing uneven.
The frustration still twisting inside his chest like a trapped wave.
He walked toward the window and opened it slightly.
Cool night air entered the room.
Streetlights reflected faintly across the glass.
Ryan muttered quietly,
"Always me… always."
He ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm down.
But the pressure inside his chest didn't disappear.
This wasn't normal anger.
It felt like something else.
Something expanding inside him.
Searching for a way out.
He turned toward the door.
He wasn't planning to move.
Wasn't planning to touch anything.
But as his eyes fixed on the wooden surface—
he heard a small sound.
A faint crack.
Tick.
Ryan blinked.
He took one slow step forward.
Near the door handle, a thin line appeared.
So small it was almost invisible.
At first he thought it was an old scratch he had never noticed.
But the line moved.
Slowly.
Silently.
The wood didn't explode.
It didn't splinter violently.
It simply… cracked.
As if an invisible pressure were pushing from within.
Ryan froze.
He hadn't touched the door.
Hadn't even gotten close enough.
He whispered,
"No…"
The crack stopped immediately.
It remained there.
A thin, sharp line across the wood.
Ryan stepped forward slowly and touched the surface.
The door felt normal.
Cold.
Solid.
But that crack hadn't been there before.
He was sure of it.
He stepped back.
His heart beating harder.
His eyes moved from the door…
to his hands.
Then back to the crack.
He tried to sound sarcastic.
But his voice didn't quite succeed.
"Okay… maybe I shouldn't argue with her again."
He sat slowly on his bed, staring at the thin mark on the door.
To anyone else, it would look insignificant.
But to him—
it meant something had responded.
Something had reacted.
To what he felt.
The pressure in his chest slowly faded.
But one thought remained clear in his mind.
If his anger caused that…
what would happen if he truly lost control?
He closed his eyes.
Trying to convince himself it was coincidence.
Maybe the wood was old.
Maybe the door was weak.
But deep down—
he didn't believe that.
Downstairs, he could hear his mother moving around the kitchen and his father closing the front door before leaving for work.
Daniel entered his room after dinner.
He closed the door quietly and placed his backpack on the desk.
His room was tidy, almost meticulously organized.
The window was half open, letting the cool evening breeze drift inside.
He sat on the bed and pulled out his phone.
After a moment of hesitation, he called Austin.
The phone rang twice.
Then Austin answered.
"Hello?"
Daniel smiled.
"So… have you calmed down yet?"
Austin sighed dramatically.
"Don't remind me. I still think those foundation courses are a complete waste of time."
Daniel laughed.
"You need patience."
"Or a miracle."
"Or a smarter dean."
Daniel leaned back against the wall.
"By the way… do you think Ryan will come to the orientation tomorrow?"
Austin replied,
"Not sure. He seemed a little irritated earlier."
Daniel nodded, even though Austin couldn't see him.
"I hope he comes. It would be fun if we were all there."
Behind him, the curtain slowly moved.
Not in a normal way.
There was no strong wind.
It shifted as if someone had quietly passed beside it.
Daniel didn't notice at first.
Austin continued,
"And you? Are you excited for the event or for the band playing there?"
Daniel chuckled.
"I'm a cultured person. I appreciate art."
Suddenly a sheet of paper slid from his desk.
It lifted slightly…
then fell to the floor.
Daniel stopped speaking.
"Austin?"
"Yeah?"
"Hold on…"
Daniel looked around the room.
The window was still half open.
But the air wasn't strong.
He tried to sound casual.
"Just the window, I think."
Austin said,
"Then close it."
Daniel stood and walked toward the window while still holding the phone.
But before he reached it—
the window opened a little wider.
As if an unseen hand had pushed it.
Daniel stopped.
"Austin?"
"You okay?"
"Yes… just a strong breeze."
He closed the window.
As he did, a soft current of air brushed past his shoulder.
It spiraled briefly around him…
then faded.
Not cold.
Not warm.
Just… different.
He returned to the bed.
Austin joked,
"Don't tell me you're scared of the wind."
Daniel smiled.
"I'm not scared."
His eyes remained on the curtain, now completely still.
"I just don't like surprises."
A brief silence followed.
Then Austin said,
"Alright. See you tomorrow."
"Tomorrow."
Daniel ended the call but kept holding the phone for a moment.
He looked around his room.
Everything was quiet.
Still.
He murmured to himself,
"Just air."
He turned off the lamp.
Darkness filled the room.
For a few seconds—
nothing moved.
Then the curtain shifted one last time.
Slowly.
Gently.
And finally…
became still again.