The Distortion of the Comet
The industrial part of Veridian stretched under a dull sky, full of gray concrete buildings and steel frames. Once busy, it now sat quiet, the hum of the city far away. The bright downtown skyline burned like a promise of life Kai couldn't touch. He moved through the emptiness, his shoes tapping against the wet pavement. In his dark, tailored suit, he looked out of place, like a ghost trying to remember how to be human.
His mind raced. Minutes ago, he had stolen secrets that could ruin lives a U.S. Senator's private files, now safely tucked in his coat. Before he could catch his breath, Adrian had sent him to a small diner across town, with instructions that made no sense: *go sketch reflections and ask a woman how to paint sound.*
Adrian Veyra's greatest weapon wasn't money or power. It was keeping Kai off balance. He didn't give him time to think about what he'd done or what it meant. Every order came too fast, one after another, until Kai's thoughts felt like smoke hot, shapeless, impossible to hold. All he could do was obey.
He walked west, counting the blocks. Five in total, but each one felt longer than the last. His right hand stayed in his pocket, fingers brushing the edge of his sketchbook. Streetlights buzzed above, their glow reflected in puddles. Every dark alley felt like it could swallow him. Every car passing made his pulse jump. Somewhere out there, men were looking for him security, or worse.
Then he saw it.
The Comet Diner.
It glowed at the corner of Tenth Street, its yellow neon sign flickering in the rain. The light spilled onto the cracked sidewalk, catching the edges of the puddles like broken glass. The air smelled of fried onions, old oil, and bleach trying to cover grease. It was the kind of place people went to disappear the night workers, the lonely, the tired.
Kai paused outside, watching the distorted reflections in the window. The glass bent the inside world like a dreamn faces stretched, colors melting, the counter curving in strange ways. He stayed for a moment, then stepped inside.
The bell above the door rang tiredly.
Inside, everything buzzed with noise and warmth. The counter stools were cracked, the lights too bright, but there was comfort in the chaos. No one cared who you were or what you'd done.
He slid onto a stool at the far end. His reflection stared back tired eyes, a faint shadow of fear.
The waitress appeared. She was middle-aged, strong-looking, her name tag read *Brenda*. She barely looked at him.
"What'll it be, hun?"
"Three-egg omelet. Black coffee," he said automatically, repeating Adrian's words.
The order didn't belong to him. Nothing did anymore.
As he waited, he looked around. Other customers ate quietly the trucker hunched over pancakes, a young woman scrolling her phone, two old men talking softly about baseball. Ordinary lives. Lives untouched by the chaos that followed him here.
The cook cracked eggs onto the hot griddle. The sizzle filled the air. Kai tried to focus on the sound the scrape of the spatula, the clatter of plates, the fridge humming. Small, steady rhythms of a world that made sense.
When his plate arrived, the omelet was thick and hot, dripping with butter and oil. He wasn't hungry. His stomach twisted, but Adrian's voice repeated in his head: *Finish it. Eat. Take care of your body.*
He forced each bite down. Following orders kept him steady. It was something solid, something he could control.
The coffee arrived in a thick white mug, its rim chipped. Kai wrapped his hands around it, letting the warmth ground him. The black liquid shimmered, reflecting the neon lights in strange patterns. He set the mug down and opened his sketchbook. The counter was sticky, marked with old coffee stains and scratches.
He flipped to a clean page and began to draw. Not people just shapes. The bent reflection of the hanging lights. Brenda leaning over the register, her figure stretching. The spoon beside his cup twisting the world like melted silver. The diner became a puzzle of shapes, each piece a reminder that nothing he saw could be trusted.
He didn't notice her at first.
She appeared quietly, as if she had always been there two stools away, leaving a space between them. She wore dark travel clothes, soft but expensive, practical but intentional. Her hair was tied back, showing a face with sharp lines and eyes that didn't search they observed.
Kai's heart kicked. She didn't belong here, not in this diner. That made her unmistakable. The contact.
He kept his gaze low, looking at her hands on the counter. Her right hand caught the light, showing a large emerald ring—green, perfect, alive. The signal. Adrian's mark.
She didn't look at him at first. She ordered a club soda, low but firm, and waited as if she had all the time in the world. When her drink came, she sipped once, then looked at him.
Her eyes met his, calm and sharp. Not cruel just focused, like a scientist observing.
Kai swallowed. The words tightened in his throat. He had practiced them a dozen times. Still ridiculous. But he had no choice.
He set down his pencil, met her eyes, and spoke softly:
"Do you know how to paint the sound of a scream?"
The air froze.
She didn't smile or move. Her eyes flicked once to his sketchbook, then to his half-eaten omelet. Her voice was smooth, deep, unforgettable.
"You don't paint the sound," she said. "The sound is gone before the memory forms. You paint what comes after the silence that follows, the air that shakes, the cracks that stay."
Her words fell like notes in an empty room, quiet but impossible to ignore. She leaned slightly closer, her gaze sharp.
"You paint the echo's fading. That's where the truth hides. The ripples. The aftermath."
Elias.
The name hit him. Adrian's chosen alias. Her use of it confirmed she was the right one.
Kai stayed still, heart racing. It wasn't a riddle. It was an instruction.
The *scream* was what he had already done: the crime, the breach, the chaos.
The *echo* was what came after the political reactions, the danger spreading like a wave.
Adrian wanted him to follow the ripples, not the noise. Watch what happens after the fall. Follow the quiet, not the chaos.
She reached into her coat and pulled out a small folded note. She slid it across the counter to his coffee.
"The location of the echo," she said softly. "Twenty-four hours. Observe. Don't leave the area."
Her tone returned to business. She finished her drink, left a few bills, and stood.
For a moment, he thought she might look back. She didn't.
She left, the door bell ringing once. She left behind only a faint perfume mixed with grease.
Kai stared at the note. He didn't open it yet.
He knew the next step: call Adrian. Report every word.
He took a last sip of coffee, put his sketchbook in his jacket, and stood. The stool creaked as he left behind his drawings of distorted reflections.
Outside, the night hit him cold and sharp. The city stretched ahead in streaks of light and wet pavement. Sirens wailed and faded. The world moved on, uncaring, while his pulse beat loud.
He walked two blocks, tense at every sound the gravel, the tires, the hum of an engine.
He spotted a payphone, battered and rusted to the side of a gas station. The glass smelled faintly of smoke and rain. He stepped inside.
He fed coins into the slot. The dial tone buzzed. He dialed Adrian's secure number.
The line clicked.
"Report the response, Elias."
Adrian's voice was calm, cold. No greeting. No curiosity. Only expectation.
Kai closed his eyes, remembered every word the woman had said, then spoke clearly:
"You don't paint the sound. The sound is gone before the memory forms. You paint the air after the sound the ripples, the cracks, the empty space where the shock fades. The echo's fading is where the truth lies."
Silence followed. Long, heavy, endless. Kai could almost hear Adrian thinking, weighing each word.
Finally:
"Confirmed," Adrian said. "The words are correct. Now look at the note. You are going to paint the ripples."
Kai hung up. The night pressed close. The note still waited in his pocket.
He unfolded it under a flickering lamp.
It wasn't an address. Not coordinates. Not a code. Just three words:
**VERIDIAN CITY LIBRARY.**
He stared. A library. Of all places. It didn't make sense not yet. But Adrian's orders never did until they made sense.
Kai folded the note and put it away. The street stretched ahead. Somewhere, another part of the puzzle was moving.
He turned his collar, started walking, his footsteps fading.
The echo of the diner, the woman's words, and Adrian's command lingered in his head.
He was chasing the next ripple.
To Be Continued