The golden threads pulsed with quiet contentment.
Marcus stood at the threshold of the clock tower, watching the city breathe. The hunters had been driven back. The oneness was stronger than ever. Havenport had become a sanctuary, a beacon of hope and love that drew seekers from every corner of the world.
But something was watching.
It started as a presence at the edges of the oneness—a patient observation, a quiet assessment. It wasn't threatening like the hunters. It wasn't hungry like the void. It was simply... watching. Waiting. Observing.
Marcus felt it in the threads, a subtle shift in the light that suggested a hidden gaze. The golden light still pulsed with warmth, but there was something else beneath it, something that studied the oneness with ancient curiosity.
Anna noticed
