Haviing made the immediate decision to activate his eyes power he went to do it, he activated his God's Eyes.
The world shifted. Colors deepened, outlines sharpened. He saw the residual prana in the air, faint trails left by those who had entered and left. The investigators. Elara. The healers. He filtered them out, looking for something older, something that did not belong.
There.
It was thin, almost invisible, like a snapped thread floating in the air near the center of the room. It glowed faintly, a pale silver that was already fading, dissolving into the ambient energy like smoke in the wind. By tomorrow evening, it would be gone.
Nero stepped closer, his eyes fixed on the thread. It was not natural. It was not accidental. Someone had been here, someone who had left no physical trace, no footprints, no fingerprints. Only this. A residual thread, a remnant of something he could not yet name.
