The station buzzed quietly, filled with the low murmur of tired footsteps, distant announcements, and the humming rails of a city that never cared to slow down.
Beneath the flickering lights and among a sea of strangers, Nocten Vale sat alone on a cold steel bench. Hood drawn, eyes lowered. He wasn't running late, nor early. Just... there. Waiting.
People passed by without a glance.
And he didn't expect one.
The train arrived with a gust of wind and a mechanical hiss, slowing to a smooth stop. Nocten stood and stepped inside without thought, like it was just another scene in a loop he never volunteered for.
He grabbed a metal pole, standing as the train began to move. The carriage rocked slightly, and his reflection trembled faintly in the glass across from him.
Then the screen above the doors lit up.
An ad.
"Celebrating Greatness — Elian Roth: Visionary. Leader. Living Legend."
The face of a man the world would never forget. His smile glowed, perfect and distant.
Nocten stared at it.
Not with admiration.
Not even jealousy.
Just... stillness.
The kind of stillness that comes from knowing you're not like them.
Not known. Not needed. Not named in the world's memory.
He lowered his gaze again.
The train continued forward.
And so did he — not toward a goal, not toward a dream.
Just forward.
That was enough.
For now.
Some people are born to stand out.
Some are born to vanish.
And some—like him—exist somewhere in between.