The fog over Sira had turned thick and suffocating, like the city itself was holding its breath. Every alley, every crooked street seemed to twist just slightly, subtly reshaping as Prince walked.
The Reflection Avatar hovered silently beside him, barely visible, yet its presence extended his awareness beyond the mundane. Every movement, every flicker of shadow, every whisper of Veil threads was noted.
Prince's calm, calculating mind cataloged everything. Patience first. Observation second. Action last.
Signals from the Veil Factions
The fractured sigil from the Old Clock District had not been a lone anomaly. Traces led Prince toward multiple locations across the city—hidden meeting points, abandoned warehouses, and alleys layered with faint Veil wards.
Tonight, several threads seemed to converge near a crumbling tower, its base tangled in overgrown roots. Prince moved silently, following patterns that only his perception could detect.
He paused on a rooftop overlooking the tower. Through gaps in the fog, he saw figures moving below: cloaked, masked, deliberate. More than a dozen. Factions were converging.
Curiosity and caution, he thought. They do not yet know how aware I am.
The Dangerous Secret
A faint shimmer in the air drew his attention. A larger sigil floated mid-air above the courtyard inside the tower, its symbols twisting and shifting as if alive. Threads of the Veil converged there unnaturally.
Prince studied it through the Reflection. The sigil was not just protective—it was a monitoring network, capable of detecting, mapping, and even subtly influencing souls who entered its range.
They are not only observing—they are experimenting, he realized. Mapping responses, controlling access, testing boundaries.
A chill ran down Nasir's spine. The city and its factions were nothing compared to this: this sigil was a fragment of something far greater, far older, and far more dangerous.
Subtle Maneuvers
The masked figures shifted, sensing disturbances in the Veil threads. Prince extended his Reflection subtly, creating faint illusions and distractions. One figure paused, another faltered, and the rest began scanning methodically, unaware of the true source of the anomaly.
Prince observed, cataloged, and memorized. Every sigil, every ward, every movement. The factions were skilled, but he had foresight, patience, and perception beyond ordinary humans.
The threads pulsed faintly in acknowledgment. The city has layers. The factions are only one layer. The Veils… are another. And beyond… something waits.
A Calculated Withdrawal
Prince chose not to intervene directly. The secret was far too dangerous to confront unprepared. Instead, he retreated silently, leaving the converging factions to their plans.
The Reflection shimmered beside him, a reminder that observation alone could yield immense knowledge.
Sira had revealed another layer tonight. Veil factions were converging. Dangerous sigils were alive, testing responses. And the threads beyond the city whispered of truths not meant for human minds.
Prince inhaled slowly. Patience, observation, understanding—these were his weapons.
The city was watching. And so was he.