When I wake again, the city's heartbeat still hasn't returned.
The silence feels wrong .... too heavy, too exact. It presses against the windows, turns the hum of neon into something brittle.
Even my own breathing sounds foreign.
I sit up slowly. The burn under my skin glows faintly, threads of light pulsing in time with my heart. Not the city's.
Just mine.
When the Pulse stops, so does the city.
The note's still on the table, but the ink has changed .... faintly smeared, as though it's breathing too.
For a second, I almost hear something beneath the quiet .... not a sound, but a presence.
Then it's gone.
**
Outside, Vareth looks… muted. The morning light has a gray tint, like the sun forgot how to reach here.
People move slower. Their emotions .... usually sharp and blinding to me .... now feel muffled, as though someone's turned the world's volume down.
At first, I think it's peace. Then I realize it's emptiness.
I make my way through the northern district, keeping my hood up. Street vendors whisper to themselves; digital billboards flicker blank. The Pulse used to flow through everything ..... current, signal, emotion. It made Vareth alive.
Without it, everything feels half-dead.
A group of people stand near the subway entrance, gathered around something. I push through them.
A man lies on the ground ..... eyes open, glowing faintly white. His veins shimmer like mine did earlier, but dimmer, fading.
"He just dropped," someone mutters.
"No noise, no scream, just...."
"Another Pulse blackout?"
The voices blend into static.
The man's chest doesn't rise. I crouch beside him, fingers trembling as I touch his wrist.
No pulse.
No warmth.
But when I close my eyes, I feel something faintly tugging from him ..... not life, but a residue of the city's rhythm. Like the Pulse tried to cling to him before slipping away.
And then ..... a flash.
His last emotion hits me like a knife.
Fear. Recognition. Silence.
He saw something before he fell. Something that looked back.
I jerk away, heart pounding.
The others step back, watching me warily. A woman whispers, "He's one of them, isn't he?"
A man replies, "Empath. Pulse-touched."
Their stares burn like acid.
I walk away before their fear turns into something uglier.
**
By the time I reach the old tram bridge, the fog is thicker. It swallows the skyline, leaving only the faint shimmer of water below.
This is where I saw Kael last night. Where he said my name like he'd known it all along.
I lean over the railing. The river looks normal again .... no glow, no shapes. Just gray water moving slow.
But then, something shifts.
A ripple forms at the center, spreading outward in perfect circles.
The Pulse.
It's trying to wake.
I focus, letting the city seep into me again.
For a moment, I catch a flicker .... a whisper threaded in the current.
Find the silence before it finds you.
I open my eyes. The voice isn't mine.
And then I hear footsteps.
Not Kael's.
These are heavier, sharper.
**
Three figures emerge from the mist .... dark coats, mirrored visors, carrying devices that hum faintly.
I recognize the emblem on their sleeves: The Observers.
Marlow's men.
One of them stops a few feet from me.
"Eren Vail?"
My stomach knots. "You're early."
He tilts his head. "You're late. The Director wants a word."
"I'm not interested."
The man gestures toward the others. "You don't have to be."
I step back. The Pulse flickers again .... faintly. Enough to make the nearest streetlight buzz and crack.
Their visors reflect my face, eyes glowing faintly gold in the dim.
"You think you can control it," one says.
"No," I whisper. "I think it's already controlling you."
Then I move.
The Pulse surges through me like wildfire ..... brief, violent.
Light arcs across my fingertips as I shove my hand forward. The air warps, humming with invisible static. The ground beneath their boots trembles.
They stagger back, shouting orders I don't hear.
One aims a device ..... a sleek black baton with a core of humming silver.
The moment it hums, the Pulse inside me twists painfully, recoiling.
I fall to one knee, choking.
My vision fractures.
Images flicker ..... a laboratory, white walls, a boy strapped to a chair, Kael standing in the corner, silent.
"Subject 07," a voice echoes through the memory.
"Stabilize the resonance."
Then I'm back .... on the bridge, rain falling again. The men are gone.
The Pulse calms, whispering faintly beneath my skin.
I press my hands to the ground, gasping.
"What the hell are you doing to me, Kael?"
**
That night, I can't sleep.
The lights outside my window blink erratically .... a signal, a heartbeat, a code. I write down every pattern.
Three short, two long. Repeat.
When I trace it on paper, it forms a word: VALE.
My last name.
A chill crawls up my spine.
I grab my coat, head out into the cold again. The rain's lighter now, but the fog thicker.
The Pulse whispers faintly underfoot, half-awake.
Vareth's streets twist like veins, leading me toward the heart .... the Observatory district. The city's oldest sector, built around a tower that touches the clouds.
When I reach it, the front gates are open.
No guards.
Just silence.
Inside, the air hums faintly.
And at the center of the grand hall, standing beneath a dome of shifting glass, is Kael.
He's facing away, hands behind his back, gray coat glinting under the weak light.
"You found me," he says without turning.
"I didn't find you," I reply. "You called me here."
He looks over his shoulder, eyes catching the faint blue light of the room. "You heard it, then. Good."
"What is this place?"
"Where the city listens," he says simply.
He gestures upward. The glass dome pulses faintly .... alive, like a lung breathing light. "Every emotion that Vareth hides ends up here. Every memory, every whisper. It's all recorded in the Pulse."
I step closer. "And me?"
"You're its echo."
I flinch. "Meaning?"
Kael turns fully now. His expression is calm, but his voice lowers .... careful, deliberate.
"When the Pulse was born, it chose conduits ...people who could feel it, hear it, carry it. You were one of them, Eren."
"I never chose that."
"No one ever does."
He steps closer. "The city's silence means something's cut it off. Someone. If it stays quiet too long, Vareth dies. And so do you."
I swallow. "You said last night I keep walking into storms."
He nods once. "Because you are one."
The words settle like ash.
For a moment, we just stare at each other .... the air between us humming faintly, the Pulse straining to wake.
There's something in Kael's eyes .... not warmth, not threat. Something older. Recognition.
"What are you?" I whisper.
He smiles faintly. "The silence that answers."
Before I can respond, the dome above us shatters into light.
White fire rains down .... silent, slow, beautiful.
The Pulse erupts inside me, screaming without sound.
And beneath it all, Kael's voice ..... calm, steady, inevitable:
"Wake up, Eren. The city remembers you now."
**
When the light fades, I'm on the floor. Alone.
The Observatory is empty.
Only the rain outside remains, falling like memory.
But somewhere deep in the city, the Pulse beats once.
And I swear I hear it whisper:
"Hunt the silence… before it hunts you."