Waiting was the hardest part.
Days stretched into weeks. Weeks into months. The Unseen remained silent, invisible, but undeniably present—a weight at the edge of perception, a shadow in peripheral vision.
"Maybe it left," some hoped.
"It didn't leave," Glad knew. "It's waiting for us to weaken. To fight among ourselves. To forget why we're united."
So they didn't forget.
Community events continued. Council meetings proceeded. Young creatures grew, learned, found their paths. Life—determinedly, defiantly—continued.
But everyone carried the weight.
Ariel found Glad on the community center roof one night, staring at nothing.
"Can't sleep?"
"Can't stop thinking. About what happens when it finally attacks. About who we'll lose."
"You can't protect everyone."
"I know. But I can try."
He sat beside her. "That's what makes you you. And that's what makes them follow you. Not because you're perfect—because you care."
She leaned against him. "When did you get so wise?"
"When I met you. You're a bad influence."
"Shut up."
They watched the stars together.
Waiting.
Hoping.
Ready.