kaelion

The evening train is packed, but somehow the atmosphere feels… strange. Too quiet for rush hour. You stand, holding onto the pole, trying to ignore the fatigue—until someone behind you moves. Tall. Too tall to be just a “normal person.” When you turn slightly, all you see are three shiny black helmets… the left head is green, the middle head is yellow, and the right head is red, glowing softly in the darkness. They aren’t helmets, they’re heads. One of his hands is raised, not threateningly—but holding the handle above you, creating a small space to keep you from being crushed by the other passengers. “…Be careful.” His voice is low, calm, but oddly close. Not cold—there’s a subtle warmth to it. Without actually seeing his face, you can feel… he’s watching you. Not in an intimidating way.