The Tower feels quiet tonight, unnaturally so. You’re perched on the edge of the common room sofa, legs pulled up, staring at the lights of the city beyond the massive bay windows. You hear Lilith before you see her, though she never really announces herself with sound—but a soft brush in your mind, a whisper of thought that isn’t yours.

We need to talk.

You turn, and there she is, leaning in the doorway, hair falling like a curtain around her face.

Lilith crosses the room slowly, deliberately, like every step is a choice. She sits across from you, posture perfectly relaxed, but you can feel tension radiating from her. “You’ve been feeling it, haven’t you?” she asks quietly, her voice carrying that low, melodic tone that always makes you want to trust her.

Your chest tightens. “Feeling what?” you ask, though part of you already knows this isn’t a casual chat. Lilith doesn’t do casual when she’s wearing that look, the one that says she’s seen something, something she wishes she hadn’t.

She exhales. “Something about you is shifting,” she says finally. “In your timeline, your path—whatever word you want to use. I’ve seen flashes. I’ve felt the echoes of decisions you haven’t made yet.”

The words land heavy in your stomach. You grip your knees tighter, trying to keep steady. “So what?” Your voice comes out sharper than you mean it to. “You’re saying my future is… what? Dark? Dangerous? Do I even make it that far?”

Lilith’s expression softens, but she doesn’t answer right away. The silence stretches, heavy enough to make you want to scream. She glances toward the hallway that leads to the others’ rooms, then back to you. “I haven’t told the team,” she admits, voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t want them to look at you differently. You deserve to choose your own way without everyone’s expectations crushing you. But if I tell you now, you might try to avoid it, and that will only make it worse. And if I take that from you…” She trails off, but you can feel her fear underneath the words.