Lucian was standing inside his bedroom, leaning slightly over the open window with his chin resting against his knuckles, his elbow propped lazily against the wooden frame as he stared out into the distance at the thin, golden light that had arrived several kilometers away from him.
The faint afternoon wind slipped into the room and brushed against his face, stirring the loose strands of his dark, short, jet-black hair. The curtains behind him swayed gently.
It was afternoon, making it almost impossible to see the radiant pillar with the naked eye. The sunlight washed over the city in a pale glow, blurring the distant shapes and drowning subtler lights beneath its dominance.
Even he could only see it because of his heightened perception.
"What is that?" he wondered aloud, his voice low and carrying a faint curiosity—though beneath it lay something sharper.
Unease.
