The evening air in Veradin felt 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 cafés, 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 green glow around his wrist.
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… strangely calm.
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 floating water.
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."