Elias woke to the soft warmth of sunlight streaming through his bedroom window. He blinked, groaning faintly as he rubbed his temples. His head throbbed with a dull ache, and his body felt heavy, as if he’d run a marathon the night before. The events of the previous night flickered in his mind—shards of glass, glowing veins, the crystalline specter. The vividness of it all made his stomach twist.

But when he sat up, the room was startlingly… normal.

His apartment looked just as it always had, no signs of the break-in, no overturned furniture, no shattered mirror. Everything was clean and orderly, as though nothing out of the ordinary had ever occurred.

His eyes fell on the bag sitting neatly on the nightstand—a sleek black duffel, unassuming except for the sheer weight of what it contained. He hesitated before unzipping it, his breath catching as stacks of neatly bundled cash greeted him.

Fifty thousand dollars.

The exact payment promised by Axiom. The sight sent a shiver down his spine. How had it ended up here? He scanned the room, his heart racing, but there was no sign of intrusion. It was as if someone had placed it there while he slept, perfectly at ease in his space.

Elias’s gaze dropped to his hand, his pulse quickening as he prepared to see the glowing mark that had been the source of so much chaos. But when he turned it over, his breath caught in his throat.

The mark was gone.

His palm was smooth and unblemished, the skin unbroken and unremarkable. He flexed his fingers, staring at his hand as though it belonged to someone else. Relief washed over him like a wave, and he exhaled shakily, his lips curling into a faint, uncertain smile.

“Maybe it was all a dream,” he whispered, though he didn’t believe it. Not entirely.

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The Call

After a long, hot shower and a breakfast he barely tasted, Elias stared at his phone. His thumb hovered over the screen, hesitating for a moment before he finally dialed.

“Lila?” His voice wavered slightly, but he forced himself to sound calm. “Hey, it’s me. I was wondering if you wanted to grab lunch or something. I could use the company.”

Her voice on the other end was light, warm. “Elias, hey. Sure, I’d love to. Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he lied. “Just… need to get out of the house for a bit.”

“Alright,” she said. “Meet me at the park in an hour?”

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“Sounds good,” he replied, ending the call with a faint sigh.

The park was bustling, the warmth of the afternoon drawing families, joggers, and dog walkers to the wide, open paths. Elias sat on a bench near the fountain, his gaze wandering over the crowds as he waited. The normalcy of it all felt surreal, almost unnerving after the intensity of the past few days.

“Hey, stranger.” Lila’s voice broke through his thoughts, and he looked up to see her approaching, a smile on her face. She wore a simple jacket over jeans, her hair tied back in a loose ponytail. She looked as carefree as ever, and for a moment, it put him at ease.

“Hey,” Elias said, standing to greet her. “Thanks for coming.”

“Of course,” she said, sitting down beside him. “You’ve been so hard to reach lately. Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he said quickly, forcing a smile. “Just… work stuff. You know how it is.”

She arched a brow. “Work? Did you finally get that architecture job you were talking about?”

“Sort of,” Elias said, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s… complicated. Freelance stuff.”

Lila tilted her head, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. “Complicated, huh? You’ve always been good at making things complicated.”

Elias chuckled weakly, unsure how to respond. He glanced at her, searching for the warmth and familiarity that had always been a comfort, but something about her seemed… off. Subtle, almost imperceptible, but it gnawed at him.

“So,” she said, leaning back slightly. “What kind of projects are you working on? Anything big?”

He hesitated, his instincts flaring. The question seemed casual, but there was an edge to it, a precision that felt unnatural. “Nothing too exciting,” he said, keeping his tone light. “Some small designs, mockups for private clients. That sort of thing.”

“Private clients?” she echoed, her tone carefully neutral. “Sounds mysterious. Are they paying well?”

Elias shifted uncomfortably. “Enough to get by.”

Lila nodded, her gaze drifting to his hands. “Well, I’m glad you’re finally doing something with your degree. It’s about time someone recognized your talent.”

Her words should have felt like encouragement, but they landed wrong, like a sharp edge pressed just beneath the surface. Elias clenched his hands, resisting the urge to look at his palm again, to see if the mark had returned.

“What about you?” he asked, steering the conversation away from himself. “Still working in marketing?”

“For now,” she said with a shrug. “But I’m keeping my options open. You know me—always looking for the next big opportunity.”

The next big opportunity. The words hung in the air, heavy with implication. Elias glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, his mind racing. Was she really here just to check in, or was there something more?

He forced a laugh, trying to shake the unease creeping into his chest. “Well, I’m glad someone’s got it figured out.”

Lila smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Don’t sell yourself short, Elias. You’re more… important than you think.”

The words struck him like a blow, his stomach twisting as the faint sense of normalcy shattered. He stared at her, his pulse quickening as he searched her face for answers. Was she just being supportive, or was there something she wasn’t saying?

Before he could respond, she stood, brushing off her jeans. “Come on,” she said, gesturing toward the path. “Let’s walk. It’s too nice a day to sit around.”

Elias hesitated, his instincts screaming at him to say no, to walk away. But the warmth of her smile, the easy familiarity, drew him in. He nodded, standing to follow her.

As they walked, her questions continued—innocuous on the surface, but with an undercurrent that set his nerves on edge. Each word felt deliberate, like she was probing for something, though he couldn’t be sure what.

And with every step, the faint glow of the mark in his mind seemed to pulse, as if trying to warn him.