Lucian shrugged into his jacket and stepped into the cool morning air, the text with the job offer still burning in the back of his mind. The streets were quieter than usual, the sky dim with a gray wash that made the buildings look older, more tired. He shoved his hands into his pockets, keeping his pace brisk.
On his way to the bus stop, Lucian caught sight of someone up ahead. A man was crouched low, helping an old man gather up papers that had spilled across the sidewalk. Lucian recognized him instantly, even from a distance.
Adrian Vale.
Dammit.
He shifted his weight, scanning for an easy detour. If he cut left down the alley, he could circle back toward the next stop and avoid all of this. The last thing he needed was to get dragged into some pointless reunion.
Lucian angled his path sharply, planning to slip down a side street before he got noticed.
Too late.
"Lucian?"
The voice cut through the traffic noise, clear and irritatingly enthusiastic. Lucian didn't have to look back to know Adrian had spotted him. He quickened his pace, but he could already hear hurried steps closing the distance.
"Lucian!" Adrian called again, louder this time. Heads turned. Lucian muttered a curse under his breath.
A moment later, Adrian fell into stride beside him, his green eyes bright with the kind of cheer that made Lucian's skin itch.
The man looked almost exactly how Lucian remembered him from school, just aged into adulthood like he'd never lost his shine. Taller than most, shoulders broad but not threatening, his neatly cut hair catching the weak light of morning in shades of brown and gold. Even here, dressed down in a simple button-up and jeans, Adrian looked like he'd walked out of a recruitment poster for "reliable young man." His hair had become a little untidy from crouching, his hands full of groceries, but his grin when he saw Lucian was broad and genuine. The kind of grin Lucian had always hated.
Adrian caught up in no time, grinning like a fool."Man, I thought that was you! It's been forever. What's it been, five years? Six?" Adrian grinned, completely unbothered by Lucian's scowl.
Lucian shoved his hands deeper into his jacket pockets, keeping his pace brisk."Not long enough."
Adrian laughed as if it were a joke. "Still the same as ever. You know, you're hard to miss. You've got that… don't-talk-to-me look down to an art."
Lucian shot him a sidelong glare. "And yet here you are. Talking."
Unfazed, Adrian matched his stride. "I was helping out an old guy just now—poor man nearly lost his whole stack of paperwork. You'd be surprised how often that happens around here."
"I wouldn't." Lucian's tone was flat.
Adrian gave him a quick glance. "Right. Forgot you're not big on… well, people. Or empathy. Or small talk."
Lucian stopped walking just long enough to stare at him. "So why are you here?"
Adrian hesitated, scratching the back of his neck, but the smile never quite left. "Honestly? I don't know. Just figured… I don't run into people I actually know very often anymore. Thought it might be nice to catch up."
Lucian turned away, resuming his path to the bus stop. "Don't. I've got somewhere to be."
Adrian fell into step anyway, his grin softening into something more genuine. "Then I'll walk with you. For old times' sake."
Adrian stuck to Lucian, chattering about nothing and everything as if silence physically pained him. He bounced from old school memories to half-baked observations about the city, never once noticing the sharp edge of Lucian's jaw tighten with each step.
"…and then Mrs. Callahan caught me sneaking answers off your paper. Remember that? Man, you were furious." Adrian laughed at the memory, loud and careless.
Lucian stopped at the curb, waiting for the light to change. "I'm still furious," he muttered.
"What's that?" Adrian tilted his head, oblivious.
"Nothing."
The light turned. Lucian crossed quickly, lengthening his stride, but Adrian hurried after him anyway. "So where are you headed? Job interview? Grocery run? Hot date?"
Lucian didn't bother answering. His eyes caught on a side street ahead — narrow, littered with broken glass, the kind of place most people would think twice about cutting through. Perfect.
As they reached the corner, Adrian started, "Hey, I know a café around here. We could—"
"Not interested," Lucian snapped, turning sharply into the alley without warning.
"Wait—" Adrian jogged a few steps after him before stopping at the entrance, frowning at the shadows pooling between the buildings. For all his oblivious cheer, he wasn't stupid enough to wander in blind. "Suit yourself, Thorny. Don't be a stranger."
Lucian didn't look back. He just kept walking until the sound of Adrian's footsteps faded, until the hum of the city swallowed the man's voice completely.
Finally alone again, he tugged his jacket tighter and slipped out of the alley two blocks down, closer to his real destination.
The building stood like a monolith on the far side of the city. Glass and steel, spotless, yet empty — too empty. The lobby lights hummed, but there wasn't a single guard, no receptionist, not even dust on the floors.
A voice crackled from hidden speakers, flat and female, drained of warmth.
"Mr. Thorne. Take the elevator to the thirty-seventh floor."
Lucian hesitated, scanning for cameras, but saw none. Just polished walls and mirrored glass. He stepped into the elevator.
The thirty-seventh floor opened into a long hallway lined with closed doors. At the far end, one door hissed open by itself. Inside was a room that looked half like an archive, half like an office. Filing cabinets lined the walls. Boxes overflowed with papers. In the center sat a lone desk, its chair turned toward a floor-to-ceiling window. A computer screen glowed on its surface, casting the only real light in the room.
Lucian approached, and words appeared on the monitor.
"Welcome, Lucian. Please answer truthfully."
The questions followed, sterile and invasive:
Do you consider yourself adaptable?
Have you lied to save yourself?
Would you harm a stranger to survive?
Lucian clicked through, unimpressed, muttering, "Who writes this crap?"
The last question appeared.
"Do you want to play a game?"
He snorted and hit Yes.
The room stayed silent. A long moment stretched. Lucian pushed back from the desk, ready to leave.
And then the light outside shifted.
Something enormous eclipsed the skyline. Lucian turned toward the window—
An eye. A colossal, unblinking eye pressed against the glass, framed in writhing black feathers that moved like tendrils. The feathers weren't still — they twisted, writhed, and reached as if tasting the air.
The creature tilted its head, beak tapping the glass once, twice. Then it reeled back.
The screech that followed shattered the window into a thousand knives of glass. Air rushed in, scattering papers and ripping them into a cyclone around Lucian as the creature forced its head forward. Feathers poured like liquid shadows, curling into the room, clawing at the walls.
Lucian's chest heaved, lungs raw from the dust and glass still hanging in the air. The desk behind him lay overturned, papers fluttering down like wounded birds. Beyond the jagged hole in the window, the creature had backed off and flown high in the air, its tendrils of feathers trailing like smoke. Its scream had rattled his skull, left his ears ringing.
The computer monitor behind him flickered to life on its own. Lines of text typed themselves out, steady, mechanical, uncaring:
"Assessment complete. Survival probability: acceptable."
Lucian stared at the screen, jaw tight, heart still hammering. More words appeared.
"Designation: HARROWER. Status: active."