"…Been a year already," Sara murmured.
She walked down the hallway, eyes drifting over the walls.
Maybe more.
Didn't feel like it.
More like a few days stretched too far.
Julian smirked. "You were a total mess back then."
"Shut it."
"Tripping over your own shadow."
"I said shut it."
Julian raised his hands in surrender. "Yes, ma'am."
They kept walking. Sara's gaze shifted to the interview room at the end of the hall.
"Do you know anything about him?"
"Nope," Julian said. "They keep everything sealed till the last moment."
Sara nodded. "Simon's conducting the interview, right?"
"Yep."
"Then where's Alex?"
"Dunno. Said family stuff to deal with."
"He's always busy lately..." Her voice trailed off as the door at the end of the hall creaked open.
Sara slowed down.
Simon stepped out first, his eyes locking onto Sara and Julian. He stepped aside, glancing back into the room.
Muffled voices drifted into the hall. A voice Sara knew well.
Alex walked out, mid-conversation with someone still inside.
Sara frowned. "Family stuff?"
The question faded as a second figure stepped into the light.
The boy looked no more than sixteen, but his stillness didn't belong to someone at his age.
His eyes were a deep, pitch-black—voids that seemed to swallow the hallway's fluorescent glow.
Sara flinched. The hallway temperature dropped.
He's the one…
Alex gave a single, firm nod of approval.
The recruit turned his attention first to Julian, his expression blank, before settling on Sara. He took a few measured steps toward her, moving with an unnerving grace.
"I'm Paul," he held out his hand. "Paul Vaxlar."
Sara's eyes snapped open, her head aching. She rubbed her forehead, trying to steady herself.
"You good?" Julian asked from the seat beside her.
She looked away from the window. "It's nothing."
Julian didn't push further.
"One question though," Sara said, leaning forward. Her eyes fixed on the rearview mirror, catching Simon's reflection.
"Ask." Simon nodded.
"What's this about? It doesn't feel like a standard assignment."
Simon eased off the gas. The car slowed as they hit an empty stretch of road. "Julian didn't tell you?"
"I thought you told her."Julian glanced at Sara.
Sara looked confused. Everyone else seemed to know what this was about—except her. Was this some kind of joke?
"Just tell me," Sara snapped.
"It's about Paul," Simon answered.
Sara's mouth hung open for a moment. She didn't know how to react.
"What?"
"It was always about him. From the beginning."
Sara slumped back in her seat. About Paul… yeah. It all made sense now. Why he had always acted that way.
…
"You dead?"
"Yeah. What?"
"Put me down."
Paul eased himself down, never taking his eyes off the darkness ahead. Even blind, he knew something was there. Something very dangerous.
Mia hopped off his back and plopped onto the ground, digging into her purse. She glanced up for a sec. Paul was already moving forward.
She pulled out a candle and lit it. The little flame flickered, and light slowly filled the room, chasing away the dark.
Paul froze.
His legs wouldn't budge as his eyes adjusted.
In front of him were a set of statues.
Two figures.
One loomed over the other, cloaked, knees bent. One hand reached for the figure below, the other hung in the air, like it was holding something you couldn't see. The figure on the ground had its head turned, its chest sliced open.
Paul's heart pounded harder the longer he stared.
Something was off. It felt familiar. Like he'd seen it before. Like he knew what it meant.
He raised his hands to his face, covering it—but even through his fingers, he could still see it. His breathing got heavy. His hands shook.
"What the hell is this?" he finally asked.
Mia didn't answer right away. Her hand rummaged in her purse. "Remember that story I told you at the library?"
"Alexander?"
"Yeah." She found what she was looking for and braced to stand.
"This him?" Paul grabbed her elbow to steady her.
"The first God."
Paul turned back to the carving. With a name, the stone felt different. Less like a haunting, more like a myth.
"And who's lying down?"
"Don't know. It was never clear. Some say a demon from another world; some say his brother."
"Did Alexander kill him?"
"Again, i don't know." She shook her head.
Paul moved closer, watching the fallen figure's peaceful face. The kneeling king's hand hovered in a reaching, eternal agony.
"He's grieving," Paul muttered. "Alexander was sad."
"You can tell?"
Mia reached toward Alexander's raised, empty hand. She placed a small object into the stone's grip.
"A pen?"
"Yep." She sighed, shoulders dropping as tension left her. "Didn't I tell you? I'm here to pray for exams."
Paul lowered her back to the ground but stayed standing, shielding her from the room's dark corners.
"But why here? You could've gone to a church or something."
"Because it's isolated," Mia said, giving him a tired smile. "Thousands go to those places. I've got a better shot at being heard if I'm the only one calling."
Paul nodded. Sounds somehow right.
Mia closed her eyes, pressing her palms together, whispering into the silence. For a few minutes, the house wasn't horror. Just a room, a girl, and a prayer.
She finished with a rhythmic ritual—tapping her temple, shoulders, then lips.
Hómét.
She looked up at him. "Let's go."
Paul turned to leave. He took a few steps forward then stopped. His gaze pulled back to the girl in the white dress.
"Still can't walk?"
Mia didn't answer. She just reached out, her arms shaking slightly as she held them toward him. A faint playful smile touched her lips.
Paul stepped closer and crouched in front of her.
"Up front."
"What?"
"Carry me in front," she whispered. "I have somewhere else to go."
Paul slid one arm behind her back and the other under her knees, lifting her. He turned toward the exit, holding her close.
"That's better." She murmured.
Behind them, the candle flickered weakly, its light barely reaching the corners of the room. It fell over the statues, one kneeling over the other, a pen still in its hand. The body beneath lay still, its chest hollow.
The flame wavered. Shadows shifted along the walls.
Paul reached the doorway and stopped.
His foot hovered for a second before settling. His shoulders tensed slightly, his head tilting just a fraction, as if something behind him had caught his attention.
Mia's arms tightened around his neck, her face pressing into his shoulder.
"Why'd you stop?"
Paul exhaled, his grip adjusting around her. "Nothing."
He stepped outside. The wind hissed through the pines as the weight in his arms shifted. Not just a girl anymore. The only thing keeping him from slipping back into the dark.
"Where?"
"There." Mia pointed toward a thick wall of trees.
Paul followed her words without hesitation.
He stepped off the path, his boots sinking into rotting leaves. As they moved under the tall trees, the moonlight disappeared.
Even in the dim light, Paul moved easily. He held Mia steady, his grip firm as the ground shifted under his feet. He navigated the roots as if the path were etched into his muscle memory.
"Do you come here often?"
"Not really. Last time was at the start of the semester," Her voice sounded small in the quiet woods.
She shifted in his arms and looked up at the dark canopy. "Do you want to come back? In the future."
"Maybe."
Silence settled between them. They both knew the act was ending.
"I tripped on the stairs on purpose."
"I know."
"My ankle never hurt."
"I know."
"I was lying about the exams."
"I know."
"Then why are you still here?" She pulled his neck closer. "Why did you do everything I asked?"
"I don't know."
"You're weird."
"I know."
A quiet laugh slipped out of her, but it didn't last. Her body tensed again.
"Are you going somewhere?"
Paul slowed.
The trees thinned, and the ground opened ahead. They stepped out of the woods into a clearing under pale moonlight. The grass moved gently in the wind.
Paul lowered himself. Mia slipped away from his embrace, and sat beside her.
They looked up. The sky was filled with stars.
She raised her hand upward, fingers trembling. As if trying to reach the sky… or maybe those stars.
Her fingertips curled slowly into a fist, closing on empty air.
She knew it was out of reach.
"You know… everything we see from here is in the past."
"Past?"
"The stars… what we're seeing already happened centuries ago. If we went there now, they might not even be there anymore."
Paul glanced at Mia. Her eyes shimmered, holding the whole sky inside them.
"It would feel like they never existed at all," she said quietly.
A gentle quiet settled between them. Then, she felt the side of his finger graze hers. She didn't pull away.
His fingers slipped into the spaces between hers, slowly interlacing.
Mia turned towards him.
She'd seen his face before. Across tables, in passing, but never like this—where the distance between them had vanished, and moonlight caught his blank expression.
She looked at him like she was only just beginning to see him.
The wind had gone still, the grass falling quiet with it. His face seemed closer now. She wasn't sure which of them had moved. But the distance kept closing, the soft mist of their breath forming and fading between them.
Her heartbeat quickened as his breath warmed her lips. Slowly, her eyes began to close. The stars blurred at the edges of her vision, fingers tightened around his. Everything else faded, leaving only the space between them.
The phone rang.
The moment shattered.
But neither of them pulled back. Their foreheads rested against each other, the space between them still warm and unresolved.
She felt his breath on her skin, slow and quiet, falling into rhythm with hers.
The warmth faded slowly, like daylight slipping away, so quietly they barely noticed it was gone as they pulled away.
Paul received the call.
"It's me."
"At the apartment."
Mia watched him.
"Everyone's back?"
"I can. But why?"
Mia saw his gaze sharpen, the same look he kept hidden behind that mask. A chill ran down her spine.
"I'm coming."
He ended the call and stood up. His gaze dropped to her.
"I have to go. Something came up."
He didn't wait for her reply. He turned and moved into the woods behind her, disappearing into the dark.