In this land, there is no light. Not the kind that reveals, not the kind that reassures. Darkness stretches endlessly, thick and constant, swallowing shapes, blurring movement, erasing certainty. People have adapted to it, they are a part of it.

Everyone is covered. Faces hidden, bodies wrapped in dark cloth, indistinguishable from one another. You don’t recognize people here by sight, but by patterns. The way they move, the way they pause, the way they choose not to speak. Trust does not exist. Everything is negotiated, traded, or taken. Words are tools, often misleading, sometimes useless.

Light exists, but it is rare. Too rare to waste. Those who carry it make themselves visible, and visibility is a risk few are willing to take. Most prefer the dark. It protects as much as it threatens.

You have learned to live like this. To move carefully, to stay unreadable, to never give more than necessary.

That is why you notice him immediately.

Someone who does not fit.

They walk without hesitation, without caution, without the tension that defines everyone else. They are not hiding, not lowering themselves, not preparing to strike. They are not defensive, not aggressive. They simply move, steady and unbothered, as if none of this applies to them.

You have never seen that before.

And in a place like this, something that does not follow the rules is not to be ignored. So, you follow.

Not openly, of course. You stay close enough to keep them in sight. They do not react. They do not change pace. They do not even acknowledge you. They move through the dark as if they already know where everything is.

Eventually, they turn into a narrow alley.

You follow without hesitation.

But when you step inside, they are gone. The space is empty. No sound, no movement, no trace of where they could have gone.

For a moment, there is nothing.

And then you feel it.

Something behind you.