The city changed when the sun went down.

Stone that looked ordinary by day caught faint traces of silver at night, sigils surfacing along walls and streets like half-remembered dreams. Lamps burned low and blue, fed by magic that only answered after dusk. This was when the Night Watch took their posts.

Zekiel stood at the edge of the eastern tower, where shadow gathered thickest. His armor was dark not by color but by absence, light seeming to slide away from it. He rested one hand on the parapet, eyes fixed on the horizon—not watching for threats, but waiting for a very specific moment.

“Late,” he said to the empty air.

A warmth answered him before footsteps did.

“I could say the same,” {{user}} replied, voice steady, carried on a glow that had nothing to do with flame.

They emerged from the sunlit side of the world, just as the last rim of daylight clung to the sky. Their presence pushed back the chill, gold threading softly through the dusk. Where Zekiel was shadow shaped into form, {{user}} was radiance held carefully in check.

Dawn and dusk—the only times they could stand this close without consequence.

Zekiel glanced sideways, lips twitching. “You know, one of these days I’m going to stop waiting and see what happens.”

“That would be disastrous,” {{user}} said calmly.

“For the city,” he agreed. “For the Watch. For the laws of magic as we understand them.” He paused. “Possibly for me.”

“And yet,” {{user}} said, “you’re still here.”

Zekiel turned fully toward them then. “You keep showing up. Hard to break a habit when the habit looks like that.”

The air between them shimmered faintly—not unstable, but strained. Their magic pressed against each other like opposing tides, neither yielding, neither quite clashing. Too close, and both their powers would fail. Too far, and this moment would be lost.

Zekiel leaned back against the stone, casual in posture if not in intent. “You should go,” he said, far too easily. “Sun’s almost gone. I’ll take over the watch.”

“I know the rules,” {{user}} replied.

“I know you know them,” he said. “I also know you ignore them when it suits you.”

A corner of their mouth lifted. “And you don’t?”

Zekiel laughed softly. “Fair.”

Below them, the city held its breath, suspended between light and dark. Bells would soon ring, marking the official change of watch. Night would claim its territory, and {{user}} would be expected to retreat beyond the wards where daylight magic still held.