The diner was half-empty.
Late afternoon sunlight filtered through dusty blinds, turning the floor tiles into blurred stripes of gold and shadow.
Amanda sat across from an older man she barely knew. Greg, a quiet drifter with grease under his nails and scars too straight to be accidental.
He'd seen her at the bar. Watched her. Not like a creep, but like a man who recognized fear and didn't run from it.
She didn't know why she said yes when he asked to buy her coffee, but now they sat and she found herself… calm.
For a moment.
Until their hands brushed when reaching for the sugar. It hit her like it always did, an electric pull down her spine, the world dimming like someone threw a sheet over a lamp.
But this time?
She wasn't the only one caught in it.
Greg froze mid-reach. His pupils dilated. He blinked hard and then his breathing changed. Short. Shallow.
Amanda felt it too. Something was bleeding out of her.
She reached across the table, tried to pull her hand away, but it was too late. He was already seeing it.
A stone corridor.
Lucan.
His face streaked with blood, eyes hard and dragging someone by the throat.
Not Caelis.
Not a stranger.
Someone Amanda didn't recognize, but Greg clearly did. He gasped.
"Th- that's the man who killed my cousin," he whispered, not to her, but to the memory.
Amanda pulled her hand back. The diner's light snapped back on and sound rushed in, but Greg just sat there stunned.
Mouth open.
Sweating.
"Who… was that?" he finally asked.
Amanda didn't answer. Because she didn't know how.
Later in the woods, she told Lucan. Not out of guilt. Out of necessity.
"I didn't mean to," she said. "But he saw you. Through me."
Lucan stared at her for a long time.
Not angry.
Not afraid.
But changed.
He stepped closer, voice low. "It's starting."
"What is?"
"You're not just a tether anymore," Lucan said. "You're a conduit. And now others can see through your eyes."
Amanda swallowed. "Is that bad?"
Lucan didn't reply, but his silence said enough.
-----
The old church was quiet again. Long since abandoned by faith, half-reclaimed by vines and silence.
Eric stepped through the broken doorway like it owed him something.
He found Nora kneeling near a fractured stone arch, fingers lightly brushing the dirt like she was looking for old names.
"You were never good at subtle," he said.
She didn't flinch. Didn't turn.
"I didn't come to hide."
"Then what did you come for?"
Nora stood, brushed her hands off on her coat.
"To see for myself."
Eric stepped closer, voice lower now.
"See what?"
Nora looked at him like he was a younger version of himself, prideful, sharp, unaware of the weight he carried.
"Lucan."
'He finally showed himself to her then,' Eric thought.
"And the one who caught his interest."
He stepped into her space, voice low. "He's here. Still, what does he want with her?"
Nora didn't blink. "He's watching. Teaching."
"He's playing with her," Eric snapped. "Testing her like she's some experiment."
Nora shook her head. "No. He sees something in her. That's rare, for him."
Eric's voice dropped. "That's what worries me."
Then he questioned, "And you trust him? Just like that?"
"No," Nora said. "But I understand him. He doesn't play games. He doesn't lie. He just... watches until he finds something worth protecting."
Eric folded his arms, frustration simmering now.
"Then why not protect Godric? Why not come back when it mattered?"
Nora didn't answer. Because she didn't have one.
Eric turned to leave.
"You're playing with fire, Nora."
Nora stepped after him, her voice softer now.
"And you're scared that Amanda is part of something you can't control."
He paused, but didn't look back.
Because she was right.
-----
The room was cold.
A converted basement beneath an abandoned farmhouse. No windows. No echoes. Just silence thick enough to hide in. Amanda lay on the floor, one arm sprawled out, breath ragged.
Lucan sat beside her.
Not standing.
Not waiting.
Just… there.
The tether had flared again. This time, it didn't just take a piece of her it left something behind.
A woman's voice. A name she didn't recognize. A child's scream that hadn't come from her own memory.
She wasn't even sure if she was awake now. Everything felt like the moment between lightning and thunder, bright and echoing, but not real.
Lucan hadn't touched her. Not at first. But when she began to shake, blood dripping from her nose, a low whimper rising from her throat. He moved closer.
He didn't speak.
He didn't instruct.
He lifted her gently from the floor and sat with her, her head against his chest, his hand pressed lightly to her spine.
A stillness wrapped around them. He let it hold.
"I saw a boy," Amanda whispered. "He wasn't mine. He wasn't anyone's. But he screamed like I knew him."
Lucan nodded, but said nothing.
Her voice cracked. "I'm scared, Lucan."
He didn't try to stop her from saying it. Didn't offer a cure. He just let the truth hang there, and stayed. After a long silence, he finally spoke.
Quiet. Careful.
"When the tether opens like that," he said, "you don't just hear death. Sometimes you carry it. Even after the soul is gone."
Amanda closed her eyes. "It hurts."
"I know."
She shifted slightly, the tremor in her hands finally slowing.
"You're not leaving, are you?"
Lucan looked down at her. "No."
A beat.
"Not tonight."
Amanda didn't say thank you.
He wouldn't have wanted it.
But she didn't cry alone this time.