Episode 03:
The rain returned the next evening, falling in a slow, steady rhythm against the rooftops of West Bridge. Alok Fanando sat at the bus stop after work, the silver crescent moon pendant cold against his chest.
The pendant hadn't pulsed all day. In fact, it felt almost… still.
He pulled his jacket tighter, eyes tracing the blurred reflections of streetlights in the puddles. Westbridge looked even more lifeless in the rain washed-out buildings, faces hidden beneath umbrellas, the air thick with damp and fatigue.
When the bus finally arrived, Alok took his usual seat in the back. The same route. The same stops. The same strangers.
Except tonight, one of them was different.
A man in a black coat sat across from him, head bowed, face obscured by the hood's shadow. Alok couldn't see his eyes, but he felt them. Watching. Measuring.
Every bump in the road seemed louder than usual. The bus' flickering lights made the air feel heavier.
When Alok's stop arrived, he stepped off without looking back but he could still feel it. That presence.
At home, Mina was sprawled across the couch, reading a fantasy novel. She looked up and grinned.
"You're late again."
"Yeah," Alok muttered, kicking off his shoes.
Liana appeared from the kitchen, her hands dusted with flour.
"Eat something before you go to your room," she said, placing a plate of bread on the table.
Alok nodded, forcing a small smile, but his mind was elsewhere.
Later, lying in bed, he turned the pendant over in his hand. It was colder than before. His thoughts drifted to the vision — the white-haired goddess, the moment of betrayal, the feeling of falling into darkness.
He told himself it was just a dream.
But in the silence of the night, a faint knock echoed from somewhere inside the apartment.
Not at the front door. Not in the hall.
Inside.
Alok froze, listening. The knock came again, softer this time, almost polite.
Then —silence.
Outside, the rain kept falling, washing the streets clean. But for the first time in years, Alok knew something was watching him.
Something patient.
Something old.
Something that would not stop until he followed it into the dark.