And that's the thing: this is familiar. It's so familiar, one more instance of the feeling that has haunted him since he first opened his eyes on this shore and still felt blind: there is something on the tip of his tongue, at the edge of his awareness, just behind a closed door. He almost knows this. He's supposed to know this.
Jon steps onto the street and does not know why he expects purple light. He doesn't find it. Instead: smoke, and chaos, and people running.
He isn't a Hunter. But he hurries down the cobblestone streets towards the danger, all the same, and what he sees freezes him right there on the road. ]
the streets.
And that's the thing: this is familiar. It's so familiar, one more instance of the feeling that has haunted him since he first opened his eyes on this shore and still felt blind: there is something on the tip of his tongue, at the edge of his awareness, just behind a closed door. He almost knows this. He's supposed to know this.
Jon steps onto the street and does not know why he expects purple light. He doesn't find it. Instead: smoke, and chaos, and people running.
He isn't a Hunter. But he hurries down the cobblestone streets towards the danger, all the same, and what he sees freezes him right there on the road. ]
Shiro?