The crowd bustled with life, voices blending into a chaotic harmony of shouts, laughter, and the clinking of cash machines. A lone figure walked unnoticed among the sea of vibrant colors and hurried movements, draped in a dark, hooded cloak.
The fabric hung loose around him, obscuring much of his form, yet there was an unmistakable air of purpose in his stride—steady, deliberate, unyielding.
If one cared to look closely, the face beneath the hood defied easy reading. Angular features marked by time's unforgiving hand, a strong jaw, hollowed cheeks, and lips that held no trace of a smile. The hood shadowed his eyes, but even in their dim light, they seemed to hold a vast emptiness—a void untouched by the bustling energy around him. No flicker of curiosity or warmth disturbed his expression as if emotion had long abandoned its claim on him.
On his shoulders rested a striking contrast to the grim figure: a small, white tigress. Her sleek fur shimmered faintly in the street-dappled light, her movements languid and unhurried. Her body lay draped over him as though he were the branch of a great tree, her paws dangling lazily near his chest.
She watched the crowd with sharp, golden eyes that missed nothing—a predator's gaze in a deceptively small frame. Her tail swayed lightly behind him, the only motion betraying her relaxed demeanor.
The pair moved as one through the crowded streets, untouched by the chaotic life swirling around them. The figure's presence seemed to ripple through the space like a quiet current, and the crowd unconsciously parted to make way. The distance wasn't created by fear but something more primal, a sense of unease that no one could quite place.
A child darted past, giggling, with a bright red kite trailing behind. The tigress lifted her head slightly, her gaze locking onto the motion briefly, her ears flicking forward. Her companion did not react; his eyes remained fixed ahead, devoid of interest or acknowledgment. It was as though he moved through the world but did not truly belong to it.
The market's lively chatter continued unabated, but the figure's path seemed to carve silence in his wake, a moving shadow in a world of light and sound. He disappeared deeper into the throng, leaving no trace to save for the faint memory of a pair of golden eyes and a fleeting chill that made those who noticed him shiver, though the day was warm.
The crowd ebbed and flowed like a living river, the noise of merchants and customers blending into a persistent hum. Alex moved through it all, his hood drawn low, his expression unchanging. His eyes briefly scanned the street—an unconscious habit more than curiosity—taking in the same chaotic vibrance he'd seen a decade before.
….
"Ten years." His voice echoed flat and distant in the tigress's mind, carrying no weight of nostalgia. "Nothing has changed."
The tigress stretched lazily on his shoulder, her claws lightly kneading the fabric of his cloak. Her golden eyes sparkled with amusement as she glanced at his profile. "Nothing? Come now, Alex. Surely you can't mean that. Look at the colors, the scents, the energy! The world is alive." Her voice carried a playful lilt, like a breeze teasing the edges of his stoic resolve.
He didn't respond immediately, his gaze shifting to a vendor who was animatedly waving a strip of vibrant silk at a potential customer. The motion was familiar, but it stirred nothing in him. "Alive, yes. But it's the same noise, the same faces, the same empty routine. The world spins, but it goes nowhere."
The tigress let out a low rumble of amusement, audible only to him. " Are an old man trapped in a young man's body, What are you now? Twenty-five? Twenty-six And already waxing poetic about the futility of life. You're a delight at parties, I'm sure."
Alex's lips twitched—so faintly it could hardly be called a smile. "Not all of us have the luxury of lounging on someone's shoulder and enjoying the view."
"Someone has to appreciate the finer things," she quipped, flicking her tail against his back. "I don't intend to spend my time brooding over how 'nothing has changed.' Besides, you don't mean that. You've changed, Alex."
He stiffened almost imperceptibly, his steps slowing before resuming. "Change isn't always a good thing," he replied.
The tigress sighed dramatically, resting her head against his. "You're exhausting. It's been ten years since we were last here together, and here we are, walking through a city full of life. You can't even compliment me about the flowers, the food, or—oh, I don't know—the view from up here?"
His eyes briefly flicked to a nearby stall where a florist arranged vivid sunflowers and roses bouquets. He let himself take it in momentarily—the colors danced in the sunlight and the petals seemed impossibly delicate. "They're just flowers," he muttered.
The tigress snorted, her voice laced with exaggerated disappointment. "Just flowers! If I had hands, I'd throw something at you." She raised her head, surveying the crowd with mock importance. "Mark my words, Alex. One day, I'll get you to admit that life is more than a series of grim tasks and endless battles as formerly used to know it."
His gaze shifted to the horizon, where the towering spires of the city stretched toward the sky. The shadow of his hood concealed his expression, but his voice softened just enough for her to notice. "Maybe. But not today."
The tigress let out a soft purr, her tone losing some of its teasing edge. "Not today," she echoed, her golden eyes glinting. "But someday."
And together, they walked on, one pair of eyes empty, the other filled with a spark of hope for both.
The tigress shifted on his shoulder, her tail flicking rhythmically as they continued their exchange. "You know, for someone who's been through so much, you have the emotional range of a stone. It wouldn't hurt to be a little more... vibrant like before."
Alex's footsteps slowed slightly as he gave her a sidelong glance. "Vibrant? You mean like you, lounging on my shoulder and cracking jokes while I navigate this mess?"
"Exactly!" she said with a purr of satisfaction. "You could learn a thing or two from me, Alex. A bit of wit and a dash of charm work wonders for your brooding."
He huffed quietly, almost imperceptibly, as they weaved through a cluster of chattering townsfolk. "Wit and charm don't change reality. The world isn't a joke, and certainly not charming."
The tigress rolled her eyes dramatically, her golden gaze sweeping over the crowd. "Spoken like someone who hasn't tried to charm it yet. But fine, brooder, suit yourself. At least pretend to notice the beauty around you. Look at that merchant's stall—those pastries look divine."
Alex glanced briefly at the pastries, glistening with sugar and filled with fruit preserves. The scent of cinnamon and baked dough wafted through the air, but he barely acknowledged it.
The tigress groaned, resting her chin on his shoulder. "You're impossible. I should have bonded with someone who appreciates life's simple pleasures, like a baker or an artist—someone fun."
"You didn't choose me," Alex retorted, his voice sharper than before. "My mum forced you."
There was a pause, and the tigress's playful demeanor softened. "Maybe. But I wouldn't trade you for anything."
He didn't reply; his eyes were focused ahead as they turned a corner. The crowd thinned slightly, and the noise began to fade. His steps slowed almost imperceptibly as a shadow loomed ahead.
The Thunder Estate—once the mightiest in the world—now lay in ruins. It had once been an awe-inspiring sight, sprawling as far as the eye could see, a city within a city. At its heart stood the main mansion, the Thunder Mansion, with its spires piercing the heavens.
The pristine white stone walls glimmered in the sunlight, and intricate carvings depicting the legendary Thunder Domain adorned its facade. Tales of Tyr's power and the unbreakable spirit of the Thunder Clan were etched into every arch, column, and threshold.
But that glory was gone.
The once-pristine walls were now blackened and cracked, scorched by the fires of war and siege. Spires that once stood proudly were now jagged stumps shattered remnants littering the ground.
What was once ethereal had become desolate. The air around the estate was heavy, not majesty, but with the oppressive weight of defeat. Grass and weeds had begun to reclaim the ruins, creeping through the cracks in the stone like silent invaders.
At the front entrance, a group of armed men stood watch. Their mismatched armor and weary gazes contrasted sharply with the proud Thunder Clan guards who had once patrolled these grounds. These were not the protectors of a great house; they were government soldiers left to guard what reminded them that the Higher hadn't taken.
Alex paused at the base of the estate. His hood concealed much of his face, casting his expression in shadow. However, his eyes told a different story. The usual emptiness flickered with something unspoken—a quiet recognition for a moment, a distant memory.
The tigress lifted her head from his shoulder and followed his gaze. "So, this is what's left," she said softly, her usual playful tone replaced by something somber.
Alex didn't reply immediately. His fingers twitched at his side, a fleeting movement as if grasping something invisible. This place was more than just a ruin to him; it was where the echoes of his past resonated most deeply.
Once, it had served as a seat of power, a testament to his family's strength and pride. Now, however, it stood as a symbol of their downfall, a monument to their loss.
His lips pressed into a thin line, but he said nothing, his eyes fixed on the building as though searching for an answer it wouldn't give.
Before turning around, walking away from what was once his home—a place that held both precious and painful memories. The tigress sighed, leaving him to his thoughts, fully aware of the pain he concealed behind his emotional eyes.
Then he murmured
Nova, what is our next step? Immediate after he said that a white-like platform could be seen come to life on his left eye retina,
[ INITIATING COMMAND ]