Kael did not return home after the Registry.
He circled the Lower District three times before he allowed himself to slow down.
Old habits. Survival habits.
The Lower District was a maze of collapsed stone, rusted bridges, and half-functioning lamps powered by Authority lines that barely reached this far down. People lived close together here, but everyone pretended not to notice each other. Attention was dangerous. Curiosity was punished.
Kael kept his hood low and his steps light.
Every sound felt louder than it should have been.
They said "for now."
That phrase echoed in his head.
Not "you're free."Not "it was a mistake."
Just—for now.
Kael slipped into a narrow side passage between two leaning buildings. A rusted door waited at the end, marked with faded symbols warning against unauthorized entry.
He ignored them.
He always had.
Inside was darkness and the familiar smell of damp stone and old cloth. His room was small—barely more than a hollowed-out storage space—but it was hidden, forgotten by the city's planning records.
Just like him.
He leaned against the wall and slid down until he was sitting on the cold floor.
Only then did his hands start to shake.
His breathing came uneven, shallow gasps he couldn't seem to control.
They saw something, he thought again.They were looking right at me.
Kael pressed his palms against his eyes until sparks danced behind his lids.
He had survived seventeen years by being nothing.
Today, the world had hesitated.
That was worse than rejection.
A faint ache throbbed behind his eyes. When he wiped at his nose again, more blood smeared his fingers.
"…Great," he muttered.
He flexed his wrist—and froze.
The symbol was still there.
Faint. Uneven. Like it had been burned into his skin by something that didn't understand flesh.
Kael stared at it.
It didn't glow.Didn't pulse.Didn't respond to his touch.
Authority marks were precise. Symmetrical. Perfect.
This was… wrong.
Like a mistake that had been scratched into reality and left unfinished.
A knock echoed suddenly through the narrow space.
Kael flinched so hard his back slammed into the wall.
His heart surged.
No. Already?
Another knock—soft, hesitant.
"Kael?" a voice whispered. "Are you in there?"
He recognized the voice instantly.
Lira.
Kael exhaled shakily.
He moved to the door and cracked it open just enough to peer through.
Lira stood in the passage, clutching a small cloth bundle to her chest. Her light brown hair was tied back messily, and her healer's sash hung loosely at her waist—worn thin from overuse.
Her eyes widened when she saw him.
"You're bleeding," she said immediately.
"I'm fine," Kael replied automatically.
She frowned. "That's blood."
"It looks worse than it is."
Lira didn't argue. She never did—at least not loudly.
She slipped inside before anyone could see them and closed the door behind her.
The space felt smaller with another person in it.
Kael didn't realize how tense he was until she reached out and gently took his wrist.
He stiffened.
"Don't," he said.
Her hands paused, then relaxed slightly—but she didn't let go.
"You didn't come back after the Registry," she said quietly. "People were talking."
Kael's jaw tightened. "People always talk."
"Yes," Lira agreed. "But today they were scared."
That sent a chill through him.
She studied the symbol on his wrist, her brows knitting together.
"I've never seen a mark like this," she murmured.
"You're not supposed to," Kael said.
That made her look up at him.
Her gaze wasn't fearful.
Just… worried.
"Kael," she said softly, "what happened?"
He hesitated.
This was the moment—the one he always feared.
The moment someone asked him to be real.
"I don't know," he said finally.
It wasn't a lie. Not entirely.
She searched his face for a long moment, then nodded.
"Okay," she said. "Then I'll tell you what I know."
She sat down across from him, smoothing her skirt over her knees.
"The Registry incident is already being recorded as a backlash," she said. "They're saying the boy's body couldn't handle Authority alignment."
Kael's stomach twisted.
"And the scanner?" he asked.
"Classified damage. Executors are involved."
That confirmed it.
"They didn't mention me," he said.
Lira shook her head. "No one did."
She hesitated.
"…But some people said there was someone standing in the scanner when it broke."
Kael said nothing.
"They can't remember his face," she continued slowly. "Or his name. Just that… someone was there."
Silence settled between them.
Lira's voice dropped. "Kael, are you afraid?"
The question hit harder than he expected.
He looked away.
"Yes," he admitted.
Her fingers tightened around his wrist.
"Good," she said. "That means you're still you."
Kael let out a shaky laugh despite himself.
"You always say strange things."
She smiled faintly. "Occupational habit. Healers learn to read what's breaking."
Her smile faded.
"You should leave the Lower District," she said suddenly.
Kael snapped his head up. "What?"
"For a while," she clarified quickly. "Just until things calm down."
"They don't calm down," Kael said. "They forget."
"And what if they don't forget this time?"
Kael didn't answer.
Because he didn't know.
A sharp metallic clang echoed faintly from outside—boots striking stone.
Kael tensed.
Lira heard it too.
"…Are those patrols?" she whispered.
"Yes," Kael said. "And they're closer than they should be."
Another sound followed.
Voices.
Authority-enhanced, sharp and clear even through stone.
"Search pattern confirmed.""Lower District irregular sweep authorized."
Lira's face went pale.
"They never do sweeps here," she whispered. "Not without cause."
Kael's pulse thundered.
For now.
The door shuddered as something heavy passed nearby.
Kael stood slowly.
"Listen to me," he said. "If they come in—"
"I know," Lira interrupted. "I hide. You distract."
"No," Kael said sharply. "You leave. Now."
She stared at him.
"No."
He grabbed her shoulders, panic bleeding into his voice. "Lira, they don't see me properly. But they see you. You can't be here."
Her lips trembled.
"You always decide things like this," she said. "Like you're already halfway gone."
Footsteps stopped outside.
A shadow passed beneath the door.
Kael felt it again.
That pressure.
Searching.
His vision blurred at the edges.
Something deep inside him stirred—angry, formless, hungry.
Don't, he thought desperately.Not again.
The footsteps moved on.
The pressure faded.
Silence returned.
Kael sagged against the wall, breath ragged.
Lira stared at him.
"…What was that?" she asked.
Kael looked at his trembling hands.
"I don't know," he whispered. "But I think… the world noticed me."
Her face hardened with resolve.
"Then you're not facing it alone," she said.
Kael met her eyes.
And for the first time since the Registry, he felt something worse than fear.
Hope.
That night, as patrols continued to sweep the Lower District, a silver-robed official stood atop a tower far above, watching invisible lines shift and strain.
Beside him, a man in gray smiled.
"It's accelerating," the Archivist murmured.
The official frowned. "He shouldn't be interacting yet."
"But he is," the Archivist replied. "And soon, he'll have to choose."
"Choose what?"
The Archivist's smile widened.
"Whether to keep hiding…"
"…or to break the world that refuses to remember him."
Far below, Kael stared at the strange mark on his wrist—
And felt it pulse, just once.
If hiding keeps you alive—but destroys everyone who stands beside you—how long can you remain unseen?