The streets were quieter than usual, the usual hum of activity replaced by an eerie stillness that clung to the air. Jude walked with his hands tucked into the pockets of his cloak, his boots scuffing against the uneven cobblestone. Lyara walked beside him, her own steps light and measured. They had spent so much time moving through the city that they knew its rhythms instinctively, the rise and fall of voices, the shifts in energy. Tonight felt different.
Jude glanced up at the sky, where the faint golden shimmer of residual energy still pulsed along the edges of the rooftops. It was weaker now, but not gone. Nothing ever truly disappeared, not when it had woven itself into the very fabric of the world. The people had begun rebuilding, piecing together what had been broken. It was slow, but it was happening.
Lyara broke the silence. "Something's off."
Jude nodded. "I feel it too."
