Velaris had already settled into the quiet rhythm that always came after midnight.
Most of the lights had been dimmed, leaving only the soft white glow of the hallway lamps stretching across the polished floor.
Linn was bored.
Painfully, unbearably bored.
She wandered through the corridor with both hands tucked into the pockets of her hoodie, aimlessly debating which unfortunate individual deserved to have their peace disturbed tonight.
Sean would probably entertain her for at least fifteen minutes before pretending to regret it.
Jace would happily keep a conversation going until sunrise if nobody stopped him.
Niel…
She smiled to herself.
Actually, bothering Niel was always fun.
He always looked like he wanted to tell her to leave while secretly appreciating the distraction from staring at monitors all day.
Having made absolutely no progress deciding, she rounded the next corner—
—and nearly walked straight into Soren.
Soren had already changed into plain civilian clothes beneath a dark hoodie jacket, his usual tactical gear replaced by something ordinary enough to disappear into a crowd.
A small sling bag rested against his shoulder, and judging from the earpiece tucked discreetly beneath his hair, he was about to head out.
He stopped upon noticing her.
“So…” Linn clasped her hands together behind her back.
“Night patrol?”
Soren nodded.
She brightened immediately.
“Can I come?”
“No.”
The answer arrived so quickly her smile instantly disappeared.
“I was not finished asking.”
“You finished.”
“I wanted to stroll around.”
“Patrolling is not strolling.”
“Tonight, it is.”
Soren simply looked at her.
Linn closed her eyes dramatically, raising one finger as though delivering an important prophecy.
“Trust me. I am the best at manifestations.”
A beat.
“Tonight is going to be peaceful.” She nodded to herself with complete confidence.
“No threats. No danger. Nothing suspicious. Flicker will have a wonderfully uneventful evening.”
Soren regarded her for several seconds.
“…No.”
“Oh, come on.”
“No.”
“I’ll stay out of your way.”
“No.”
“I’ll buy you a drink.”
“No.”
She frowned.
“The most expensive drink in this city.”
“No.”
Linn sighed as though deeply disappointed in him.
“I’ll wear a disguise.”
“No.”
“I’ll wear glasses.”
“No.”
“A wig.”
“No.”
“A different face.”
“…”
“I know Sean still has prosthetics.”
“…”
“I’ll even let Jayden complain while putting them on.”
Soren remained perfectly expressionless.
“…No.”
Linn folded her arms.
“You know, you are making this sound like I am asking to accompany you into a war zone.”
“I am preventing exactly that.”
She stared at him.
He stared back.
Several long seconds passed before Soren finally let out a nearly inaudible breath.
“…You stay beside me.”
Linn blinked.
“…Really?”
“…”
A grin spread across her face so quickly it almost looked painful.
“I knew you would say yes!”
“I did not.”
“You did eventually.”
“…”
Twenty minutes later, they stepped onto the quiet streets beneath the cool night sky.
Neither of them resembled themselves.
Linn had traded her usual appearance for shoulder-length brown hair, thin-framed glasses, and softer makeup that subtly altered the shape of her face.
The city felt strangely peaceful at this hour.
Most storefronts had already closed, leaving only convenience stores and the occasional twenty-four-hour diner glowing warmly beneath neon signs.
The air carried the comforting mixture of cool night breeze and distant traffic while pedestrians wandered the sidewalks with nowhere urgent to be.
For several minutes, neither of them spoke.
Soren’s attention drifted naturally across every passing face, every parked vehicle, every intersection they crossed.
Even outside headquarters, he never truly stopped working.
Linn, meanwhile, admired the stars.
“They are surprisingly visible tonight.”
Soren glanced upward briefly before returning his attention to the street ahead.
Linn smiled faintly.
“I like nights like this.”
No response came, as usual.
She had not expected one either.
After another minute of walking, she spoke again without looking away from the sky.
“Do you believe in parallel universes?”
“No.” The answer arrived just as quickly as it had back at headquarters.
She laughed quietly.
“Why not?”
“There is no point believing in something that cannot be proven.”
She nodded slowly, accepting the answer without argument.
“But the idea of it being real is interesting.”
A beat.
“I read something online once. Probably fake—who knows?”
“…”
He looked at her.
“They are supposedly experiences from another version of ourselves living in a parallel universe.” The corner of her lips curved upward.
“I know. It sounds ridiculous.”
Silence settled comfortably between them again.
Then after a while, she spoke more quietly, “I have been thinking…”
She kept her eyes on the stars.
“…If that is true…”
“…then maybe I don’t have another version of myself?”
Soren finally looked at her fully.
“My dreams…” she continued after a moment, “…they are always predictions.” Her smile had disappeared somewhere between one sentence and the next.
“I have never dreamed about random things.”
“…”
“They always happen.” A quiet breath escaped her.
“I wonder…” She laughed softly, though there was very little humor behind it.
“…Would I have lived a normal life if I did not have this ability?”
Soren remained silent, not because he lacked an answer.
Because he did not believe there was one.
Linn herself could not explain why she had chosen to tell Soren something so absurd.
Sean would have laughed before somehow turning the conversation into a competition over whose dreams were stranger.
Jace would have bombarded her with enough follow-up questions to qualify as an interrogation.
Niel would have disappeared into a mountain of scientific papers trying to determine whether dreams could somehow be linked to neurological prediction models.
Jayden would have tried to build some absurd device to measure whether dreams emitted measurable brainwave anomalies.
Jion would have listened just as quietly as Soren—but unlike Soren, he would have eventually said something wise enough to leave her thinking about it for days.
Helix…
She physically refused to imagine discussing dreams with Helix.
Yet somehow…
Walking beside Soren made pointless thoughts feel worth saying.
He never interrupted.
Never rushed to answer.
Somehow, that made silence feel less awkward.
After another stretch of comfortable silence, Linn tilted her head thoughtfully.
“What if there is another version of you too?”
Soren glanced at her.
“I wonder what he is like.” She hummed to herself, clearly entertaining the thought far more than necessary.
“Is he also this quiet?”
“…”
“Or maybe he is the complete opposite.” She grinned.
“What if he is sarcastic?”
“…”
“Has an attitude?”
She paused—a familiar face suddenly surfaced in her mind.
“Oh.”
She looked utterly displeased.
“That kind of sounds like Helix. Never mind.”
Soren regarded her without comment.
“But imagine if your counterpart turned out exactly like him,” Linn continued, suddenly amused by the image she had accidentally created.
“That would be tragic.”
Soren considered the statement with complete seriousness before quietly replying, “…Is that supposed to be an insult?”
Linn stared at him for exactly one second.
“…Yes.”
“I see.”
She sighed dramatically.
“I don’t think the universe can survive two Helixes.”
“…Perhaps.”
She looked at him suspiciously.
“Is that all you have to say?”
“…”
She spread both hands helplessly.
“Come on. Agree with me.”
Soren looked ahead once more.
“…One is already sufficient.”
Linn burst into laughter.
“There! See?” She pointed at him triumphantly.
“That was almost sarcasm!”
“…No.”
“It absolutely was.”
“It was not.”
“It was.”
“It was not.”
She smiled to herself as they continued walking beneath the quiet night sky.
“You know, I think you are funnier than you realize.”
Soren gave her a deadpan look.
“…”
They eventually found the vending machines tucked beneath the overhang of a quiet convenience store, their bright panels glowing against the otherwise empty sidewalk.
“So many choices…” She pressed both hands against the cool glass as she studied the rows of colorful cans with exaggerated concentration.
Soren waited patiently beside her.
She narrowed her eyes.
“Chocolate…”
“…”
“Double chocolate…”
“…”
“Extra chocolate.”
She looked over at him.
“How is there more than one level of chocolate?”
“I don’t know.”
She finally pressed a button before stepping aside as the machine gave a satisfying mechanical clunk.
A canned chocolate drink rolled into the tray below.
She retrieved it with obvious satisfaction.
Soren inserted a few coins of his own before selecting nothing more complicated than bottled water.
Linn immediately frowned.
“Just water?”
“Yes.”
“Boring!”
“It works.”
“It has no personality!”
“It hydrates.”
She stared at him for a moment before suddenly scanning the rows of colorful cans again.
“I am buying you a drink.”
“I already have water.”
“Which is exactly why.”
Soren looked at her for a brief second, then quietly accepted that arguing would accomplish nothing.
“I don’t know.”
She looked at him as though he had just admitted to never celebrating a birthday.
“You don’t know?”
“…”
Her gaze wandered across the drinks again.
Coffee.
Tea.
Soda.
Juice.
One by one, she dismissed them before her finger stopped over a particular flavor.
For some reason, it simply felt right.
A soft clunk echoed inside the machine as the can rolled into the collection tray.
Linn picked it up and held it out to him with a satisfied smile.
“This one.”
Soren accepted it, turning the can over once in his hand.
“…Why this?”
She shrugged.
“I don’t know.” A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
“I just have a feeling you will like it.”
After a moment, Soren opened the can and took a small sip.
Linn immediately leaned closer.
“Well?”
He looked at the label, then at the drink, as though giving the question more consideration than it deserved.
“…Good.”
The grin on Linn’s face widened.
“I knew it.”
They left the vending machine and wandered toward a nearby bench overlooking the quiet intersection, the soft glow of the streetlights painting long shadows across the pavement.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
Until Linn decided to break the silence.
“There is something I want to talk about.”
Soren turned his attention toward her.
He did not urge her to continue.
He simply waited.
She hesitated longer than she expected to.
“…None of you told me.” The words came quietly.
“…About what happened to my roommates.”
The air seemed to grow heavier.
Soren lowered his gaze for a brief moment before answering.
“We thought it would be best for you not to know.”
They had survived the chase that night.
Enphire had reached them in time.
But Zeropoint had not stopped looking.
Linn let out a slow breath.
“But I saw it.”
The vision resurfaced against her will.
Coffins.
One after another.
Familiar faces resting inside them.
Motionless.
Silent.
“…This ability…” Her fingers tightened around the can.
“…It’s a curse.”
The words lingered between them.
She stared down at the unopened drink resting in her hands.
“Why did Zeropoint have to drag them into this?” Her voice had become almost inaudible.
“…It is me they want.”
The question was not really directed at Soren.
It was directed at the universe.
Still…
He answered.
“They will do anything…”
His voice remained calm.
“…hurt anyone…”
“…use anyone…”
“…if it brings them closer to what they need.”
He looked toward the quiet street ahead.
“You may be their primary target…”
A brief pause.
“…but they will not hesitate to use the people you care about as leverage.”
Silence followed.
It was, Linn realized, probably the longest sentence she had ever heard Soren speak.
The city continued moving around them as though nothing had happened.
Everything felt painfully ordinary.
“…Sooner or later…” Her voice was almost lost beneath the night breeze.
“…I’ll have to get my hands dirty.”
She did not look at him.
“…Right?”
Silence.
Soren looked ahead.
“…Yes.”
“…That day will come.”
The answer arrived without hesitation.
Not cruel.
Not comforting.
Simply honest.
Linn nodded faintly.
She had expected that answer.
She had just hoped, somewhere deep inside, that someone would tell her otherwise.
Soren remained quiet for another moment before speaking again.
“In our line of work, hesitation creates danger.” His gaze remained fixed ahead.
“If the moment comes, do not hesitate.”
Another pause settled between them.
His expression never changed.
“…Even if…”
A faint crease appeared between his brows.
For the briefest moment, it felt as though another sentence should have followed.
One he knew.
One he had said before.
Or perhaps one someone else had once told him.
But the thought dissolved before he could grasp it.
After a long silence, he simply said,
“…Make the decision you can continue living with.”