Cael hurried down the apartment building's stairs, nearly tripping on the last step.
In one hand, he clutched the blue sphere, now wrapped in layers of brown tape to hide its glow and avoid drawing attention.
In the other, he held a new cardboard box, one Yuna had pulled from her room where she kept her clothes.
The box was packed with wires, tools, and metal parts—everything he needed for his presentation at Lena's company.
This box was sturdier than the flimsy one he'd used before, but Cael still gripped it carefully, as if it might fall apart any second.
Sweat dripped down his forehead, and his hands trembled slightly.
It wasn't just the weight of the box or the morning heat.
It was fear.
Fear of being late, fear of something going wrong, fear of someone discovering what he was carrying.
Yuna's words still echoed in his head:
"The cops are looking for the idiot who caused the blackout, and that idiot is you!"
Cael knew he had to be discreet, but every step outside the apartment felt like a gamble.
He reached the bus stop, a crowded corner packed with people waiting under the blazing sun. The line was long, with at least twenty people ahead of him.
Men with briefcases, students with backpacks, women toting shopping bags—everyone looked impatient, scanning the street for the bus.
Cael joined the back of the line, breathing heavily. His hands kept shaking, and the box slipped slightly in his sweaty grip.
An elderly woman just in front of him turned and smiled. Her gray hair was tied in a neat bun, and she wore a simple blue dress. Her eyes, lined with wrinkles, sparkled with kindness.
"Good morning, young man," she said, her voice soft but clear.
Cael blinked, caught off guard by the greeting.
"Uh… good morning," he replied, forcing a smile.
He tried to calm himself, but his nerves were obvious. The tape-wrapped sphere felt like it was burning a hole in his hand, and the box grew heavier by the second.
The woman looked him up and down, taking in his wrinkled suit and tense expression. She nodded toward the box with her chin.
"What's in there?" she asked, her tone curious but not prying. "Looks heavy."
Cael's stomach twisted.
Yuna's warning flashed in his mind:
"Don't tell anyone what you're carrying. They could steal it!"
But the woman didn't seem like a threat. She was old, slightly hunched, with a smile that reminded him of his grandmother.
There was nothing about her that screamed danger.
Besides, what was he supposed to do?
Lie to a sweet old lady who was just being nice?
"It's… a project," Cael said at last, managing a nervous smile. "I'm delivering something really important today. It's kind of a make-or-break moment for me. And these," he lifted the box and sphere slightly, "are super important to me."
The woman's eyes widened, impressed, and she let out a soft chuckle.
"Well, aren't you full of fire!" she said, pressing a hand to her chest. "That passion reminds me of when I met my husband. He had that same spark, always rushing around with his big ideas."
Cael frowned, a bit thrown by her response.
"Your husband?" he asked, unsure how to keep the conversation going. He wasn't used to chatting with strangers, especially not now, with the clock ticking against him.
She nodded, still smiling.
"Yep, but don't worry about that now. You should set that box down, kid. The bus to the capital doesn't come until eight, and it's always on time. You've got about ten minutes."
Cael checked his phone.
7:50 a.m.
She was right. He let out a relieved sigh and carefully placed the box on the sidewalk, making sure not to jostle it.
"Thanks," he said, wiping the sweat from his brow with his jacket sleeve. "I can't afford to be late."
The woman studied him, like she was sizing him up.
"How old are you, kid?" she asked, tilting her head.
"Twenty," Cael replied, straightening a bit. "Turned twenty a couple months ago."
"Twenty…" she echoed, her smile turning nostalgic. "You're young. Let me give you a piece of advice. Take it easy. Don't stress so much if things don't go the way you planned. Life has a way of working itself out."
Cael frowned, puzzled.
The advice came out of nowhere, and he wasn't sure how to take it.
"Why are you telling me this?" he asked, scratching the back of his neck. "Not that I don't appreciate it, but… why?"
The woman sighed, her smile growing a touch sadder.
"My husband passed away a few months ago," she said, gazing down the street like she was seeing something that wasn't there. "An accident. He… he was born without the talent to control mana. But that didn't stop him. He spent his whole life working on a device that would let ordinary people use mana, just like the mages."
Cael felt a chill run through him.
His hands tightened around the tape-wrapped sphere, and his heart skipped a beat.
"A device to use mana…?" he asked, his voice shaky. "That's… that's exactly what I'm trying to do."
The woman looked at him, surprised, then let out another chuckle.
"Well, isn't that something!" she said, but her expression grew more serious. "My husband tried for years. He was obsessed. But… he didn't make it. In the end, he gave up on the project."
Cael felt the air leave his lungs.
"Gave up?" he repeated, a knot forming in his chest.
The word gave up hit him like a punch.
He'd sacrificed so much for his sphere, for his dream of changing things.
The woman nodded but raised a hand to calm him.
"Don't get like that, kid. I'm not saying you're gonna fail. What I mean is… my husband, even though he didn't succeed, was happy. When we got married, he said his life had gotten better, that he'd found other ways to be okay. There's not just one path to happiness, you know? Sometimes things don't go as planned, but that doesn't mean it's all over."
Cael looked down, processing her words.
"Thanks," he said at last, managing a faint smile. "I'll… keep that in mind."
The woman gave his shoulder a gentle pat.
"That's the spirit, kid. Just don't forget to breathe."
Before Cael could reply, a loud rumble cut through the conversation.
The bus, a big, noisy vehicle, rolled up at the end of the street.
The crowd in line stirred, grabbing their bags and getting ready to board.
Cael snatched his box off the ground, the ticking clock snapping him back to reality.
But when the bus stopped and the doors hissed open, the crowd surged forward. One by one, passengers piled in, filling the seats.
Cael tried to push through, but the line was too thick.
By the time he reached the door, the driver raised a hand.
"Sorry, it's full," he said, closing the door with a pneumatic hiss.
The bus pulled away, leaving Cael stranded on the sidewalk, box in one hand, sphere in the other.
"No!" Cael exclaimed, panic rising in his chest.
He checked his phone:
8:07.
He couldn't be late.
Not for this meeting.
The woman, still beside him, looked at him with concern.
"You in a big hurry, kid?" she asked, adjusting the purse slung over her shoulder.
"Yeah," Cael said, his voice trembling. "I have to be in the capital in less than an hour. It's… it's important."
She nodded, like she got it completely.
"My daughter and I are heading that way right now," she said, pointing to a silver car parked across the street. "If you want, we can give you a lift."
Cael blinked, caught off guard.
He glanced at the car, then back at the woman.
The offer was tempting, but a part of him hesitated.
He didn't know her. She was a total stranger.
What if it was a trap?
What if someone saw the sphere and tried to take it?
But then he checked his phone again.
8:11.
There was no time to wait for another bus.
If he didn't make it to the meeting, all his work, all his sacrifices, would be for nothing.
'I can't afford to be late,' he thought, clutching the sphere to his chest.
"Alright," he said at last, nodding. "I'll take the ride. Thank you so much."
The woman smiled, pleased.
"Perfect. Let's go, then. My daughter's probably waiting for us."