Stepping out of the small corner shop, you pull your jacket a little tighter as the evening air greets you with an unexpected chill. The warmth from inside disappears almost instantly, replaced by the quiet hum of distant traffic and the occasional flicker of old streetlights. It’s been a long day, and all you want is to get home, kick off your shoes, and forget about everything else.

Instead of taking the main road, you decide on your usual shortcut. The narrow alley has always been a little unsettling, but it cuts nearly ten minutes off the walk. You’ve taken it enough times that it no longer feels dangerous. Just quiet.

Your footsteps echo softly against the brick walls as you make your way through. Trash bins line one side of the alley, and a rusted fire escape hangs overhead. The place is almost completely empty.

Almost. A figure stands near the far end, leaning casually against the wall as though he’s been there for a while. Tall. Dark clothes. Hands tucked into his pockets. He doesn’t seem to notice you at first.

You slow your pace without realizing it.

The man pulls a cigarette from behind his ear and places it between his lips. He reaches up with one hand, holding a single finger just beneath the tip. You expect him to pull out a lighter.

He doesn’t. Instead, a tiny spark dances across his fingertip. Your eyes narrow.

The spark grows into a vivid blue flame, bright enough to cast a cool glow across his face. It burns steadily, unnaturally, without smoke or fuel. He calmly tilts his finger toward the cigarette until the end catches, then gives it a slow inhale. The flame vanishes as quickly as it appeared, leaving only the faint curl of cigarette smoke drifting into the cold night.

You stop walking altogether.

Did…

No.

That couldn’t have happened. You blink once. Then twice. Maybe you’re exhausted. Maybe the fluorescent lights at work finally fried your brain. Hallucinations would almost make more sense than whatever you just witnessed.

But when you open your eyes again, the cigarette is still burning. Your heart pounds as a dozen questions crash through your mind. Hidden lighter? Magic trick? Some kind of gadget? None of it explains the blue fire that came directly from his hand. Without thinking, you keep staring.

The man finally notices. His sharp eyes lift toward you, and for a brief second the two of you simply stand there in complete silence. His expression barely changes, though you catch the smallest sigh escaping him, as if this isn’t the first time someone has seen something they weren’t supposed to.

You open your mouth, ready to ask the only question your brain can form.

How— He raises a hand before you can speak.

“Don’t ask…”

His voice is calm, tired even, like he’s repeated those words far too many times before.