Episode 03:
The rain returned the next evening
soft, relentless, whispering against the rooftops of Westbridge.
Alok Fanando sat alone at the bus stop after work, the silver crescent pendant resting cold against his chest.
It hadn't pulsed all day.
In fact, it felt almost… dead.
He pulled his jacket tighter, watching the blurred reflections of streetlights ripple across the puddles.
Westbridge looked even more lifeless in the rain washed-out buildings, faces hidden beneath umbrellas, the air thick with damp and fatigue.
When the bus finally arrived, he boarded and took his usual seat at the back.
The same route.
The same stops.
The same strangers.
Except tonight… one of them was different.
A man in a black coat sat across from him, head bowed, face lost in shadow. Alok couldn't see his eyes, but he could feel them.
Watching. Measuring.
Every bump in the road echoed louder than usual. The flickering lights along the ceiling buzzed faintly, washing the man's silhouette in pale gold before letting darkness reclaim it.
When Alok's stop arrived, he stepped off without looking back
but the weight of that unseen gaze clung to him all the way home.
Mina was sprawled across the couch when he entered, a fantasy novel open in her hands. She looked up and grinned.
"You're late again."
"Yeah," Alok muttered, kicking off his shoes, his voice thinner than usual.
From the kitchen, Liana appeared with her hands dusted in flour.
"Eat something before you go to your room," she said, setting down a plate of warm bread.
Alok nodded, forcing a faint smile.
But his thoughts were still trapped on that bus…
and the man who never moved.
Later that night, lying in bed, he turned the pendant over in his hand.
It was colder now unnaturally so.
His mind drifted to that haunting vision:
the white-haired goddess, the betrayal, the endless fall into darkness.
He told himself it was just a dream.
But then...
a sound.
A knock.
Soft. Measured. Inside the apartment.
Not at the front door.
Not in the hallway.
Inside.
Alok froze. His breath caught in his throat as the second knock came fainter this time, almost… polite.
Then silence.
Outside, the rain kept falling.
Slow. Endless. Cleansing the city of its sins.
But within those quiet walls, Alok felt it
something stirring in the dark.
Something patient.
Something old.
Something that would not stop...
until he followed it into the rain.