Steadiness

"Meryt?" Thalia's voice was flat, her eyes barely glancing up. "Never heard of you." With a flick of her wrist, she slammed the door shut.

But before Meryt could turn away, she asked with a voice—sharper, colder. As she leans towards the door frame.

"Thalia. You sure you don't want to discuss the incantation eclipse?"

A smirk tugged at Meryt's lips. The words hung in the air like a challenge, each syllable deliberate, laced with danger.

The door creaked open again. Thalia's eyes narrowed, studying Meryt for a moment before the door swung wide.

"Come in," she said, her tone now edged with something else—curiosity, or was it unease?

Meryt stepped inside, her footsteps silent as she closed the door behind her with a soft click, her smile growing as she locked eyes with Thalia.

***

[Zenith, J-City]

What does she want? Kiaan's feet skidded to a halt at the bus stop, breath ragged, heart hammering. What the hell am I doing in Zenith?

The rain started to fall in heavy sheets, the cold droplets slapping his skin, but Kiaan barely noticed. He tilted his head back, eyes closing as he let the rain soak him. It felt… good, in a way he couldn't explain.

His gaze shifted to a boy in a raincoat, laughing, tugging his mother's hand. They crossed the street, the child gleefully splashing through puddles, his joy raw, untamed.

Kiaan's chest tightened. The air felt thick. His breath stuttered, his vision flickering.

No… no, not now.

A jolt of panic, suffocating and brutal, hit him like a freight train. He stumbled, grabbing the metal pole for support. His shirt clung to his skin, damp and cold, as he fought to steady his breathing.

Forget. Forget it. The words echoed like a prayer, but his mind betrayed him.

A distorted flash: a hand, a desperate, frenzied swing through water, the panic in his chest—then, his mother, walking away from the shore, her back turned, disappearing.

"Please," he gasped, clutching his shirt, choking on the memories that tore at him. His head throbbed, and his heartbeat thundered in his ears.

A hand landed on his shoulder. Kiaan jumped, panic bubbling over. He spun, eyes wide, heart still racing.

"Are you okay, young man?" The stranger's voice was calm, but there was concern in his eyes, brows furrowed as he studied Kiaan.

"I—" Kiaan fumbled for words, his body trembling, stepping backward without even realizing it.

The man stepped forward, reaching out. "Hey, hey—slow down. There's traffic." He extended his hand, his voice warm but firm.

Kiaan's breath hitched again. Another memory—rushing to the surface like a tidal wave. No. He couldn't breathe. His chest seized.

Before he could stop himself, his legs moved, frantic, desperate. He bolted toward the road, heedless of the truck speeding toward him.

"Hey!" the stranger shouted.

But the sound was drowned by the blaring horn.

In an instant, someone grabbed Kiaan by the waist, yanking him out of the way by putting his all-body strength into throwing both of them on the opposite side. The truck sped past, the roar of its engine fading.

Kiaan's head spun. He looked up, eyes still wide, to meet the gaze of the man who had saved him.

Kyros stood there, breathing hard, his face hard as stone. "What the hell were you thinking?" His voice was low, dangerous.

Kiaan barely heard him, still frozen, still shaking. They slowly stood up together.

Kyros glared down at him, then wiped the dust from his coat, his anger simmering. "Are you listening to me?" he demanded.

Without waiting for a response, Kyros slammed his fist into the nearest traffic light, bending it under the force of his blow. The metal groaned.

Kiaan's eyes dropped to the ground. He couldn't move. His body was paralyzed.

Kyros exhaled sharply, his irritation rising. "You're going to catch a cold." He yanked off his coat, tossing it over Kiaan's shoulders with force.

Kiaan flinched, pushing it off, his body jerking with the instinct to run. Without another word, he turned and sprinted into the downpour.

"Seriously?!" Kyros's voice cracked with frustration. "Stop you bastard!" His feet pounded against the wet pavement as he chased after him.

The man at the bus stop watched, confusion twisting on his face. "His reaction... why does it feel so familiar?" He shook his head, opening his umbrella.

The storm was just beginning, but for Kiaan, it felt like it would never end.

***

"See anything suspicious?" Kaia mutters to Yona, her eyes scanning the crowd.

The party is filled with so many rich people, they're practically glowing in their designer outfits, chattering like birds in a gilded cage.

"Yeah. They all look like criminals," Yona says, crossing her arms, eyeing the crowd like they're all one wrong move away from a prison sentence.

Suddenly, the room goes quiet as a man in a mask steps onto the stage. He raises his arms, like he's about to announce the arrival of aliens or something.

"Ladies and Gentlemen!" he booms, voice oozing drama. "The Organizers of the Night Ball are finally here. Please, a round of applause for them!"

The crowd starts clapping like trained seals, totally losing it over a masked man with a microphone.

Kaia's attention snaps to a hand on her shoulder from behind. She turns, only to see a waiter with a confused frown.

"Hey, why aren't you two working?" he asks, 

Kaia's eyes flick to Yona. Save me, her eyes silently scream.

Yona? Yona casually looks away. "You're on your own," she mutters.

Great. Kaia fumbles for words. But before she can think of a reasonable excuse, the Organizers finally arrive, and they look like royalty dropped in just to ruin everyone else's vibe.

One woman, wearing a sparkling pink and gold gown, twirls a fan like she's in a slow-motion scene, her blonde hair cascading like it's made of silk. Next to her is a man dressed in a suit so golden, it could blind someone. He's also got that "rich and sophisticated" vibe going with his long, blonde, slicked-back hair.

Then… The Masked Lady looks directly at Kaia. Just for a second.

Kaia flinches. Those eyes… "I've seen them before," she mutters, barely audible.

Yona turns to Kaia. "What are you—"

Before she can finish, Kaia's already moving toward the lady.

"Kaia! Where are you going?" Yona grabs her arm. "What's going on?"

"That person..." Kaia's voice shakes. "She's suspicious."

"Calm down. We'll figure it out," Yona says, trying to sound more confident than she feels.

But before they can strategize any further, the chaos of the party consumes them. Everyone's back to gossiping and clinking glasses like nothing happened.

"How do we—"

Kaia's thoughts get cut off when she's pushed. But wait, nothing touched her, so what?

She stumbles and crashes straight into the masked woman, who looks less than pleased.

"Huh?" Yona blinks in confusion as Kaia accidentally drenches the woman's gown with her drink. People around them gasp, horrified by the ruined dress.

Kaia's eyes widen. She's way too close to the woman's face—close enough to catch the small, barely-visible grin on the lady's lips. Oh. This is bad.

Slowly, Kaia stands and helps the woman up, trying to act like this wasn't her fault. The masked lady doesn't seem angry, though. Instead, she flashes a smile, almost like she's enjoying the drama.

"What did you do?" a man snarls from nearby, clutching his untouched drink.

The crowd murmurs, turning the whole situation into a spectacle. Kaia's frozen. What now?

Then, the masked man steps forward, holding up a hand to silence everyone. "It's not a big deal." He looks at Kaia. "Can you help my sister change in her room? It's on floor 15, room 306."

Kaia blinks. Wait, what?

She doesn't have much of a choice. "Yes," she says, trying to sound calm. Perfect opportunity to be alone with her...

The moment Kaia leads the lady toward the elevator, the man's eyes shift to Yona, his gaze cold and calculating. "You."

Yona raises an eyebrow. "Me?"

"I need something from the storage room," he says, voice all business. "Help me carry it."

"In the middle of the party?" Yona's voice drips with skepticism, but she follows him anyway.

"I'm sorry, urgent work," the man says to the crowd as he heads toward the back, dragging Yona along like a reluctant sidekick.

The crowd starts gossiping again. "What a hard-working man," they murmur.