Orion watched the city lights in silence as he walked through Lumaria's avenues.
Skyscrapers projected digital reflections into the already dark sky, and floating signs advertised spectacles and simulacra of alternate realities.
But none of it dazzled him—no longer.
His steps led him to a small building, almost hidden among imposing towers.
There were no holographic panels screaming for attention, nor magical energy signs pulsing with ostentation.
It was… discreet.
A nostalgic remnant of a forgotten era.
He stopped in front of the entrance.
A familiar sensation swept through him like an ancient breath.
The slightly woody scent.
Walls covered in dark panels. Analog posters framed in glass—everything spoke of a time when stories were experienced in silence, projected on crystal screens and accompanied by the muffled sound of human emotions.
Orion had never truly lived that.
