[center][color=527d9a][h1]Cian Cahill[/h1][/color][/center]Cian's eyes scanned the room as, one by one, the others recuperated. They had all been in some kind of shared stupor, Cian included, and judging by their reactions, they had all seen something just as bone-chilling as he had. The lingering static in the air felt different now, charged with a shared trauma that seemed to bind them together in ways Cian couldn't have anticipated when he'd posted those flyers.

What struck him most was how the wave of emotional turmoil had triggered precisely what Cian had been hoping to discover. Morgan, glowing with a warm, radiant light that dispelled both the cold and the evil presence; Jacob's eyes illuminated with an ethereal greenish-blue glow; Serena surrounded by a gentle halo as she cared for Jacob with healing hands. What he witnessed confirmed that his flyers had indeed attracted people like himself, those with abilities that defied conventional explanation. The notion of such powers felt so otherworldly, and yet what they had all just experienced was equally extraordinary, to say the least.

The Neighborhood Watch. Cian had chosen that name without much deeper thought, really. It had simply tumbled from his lips in a moment of defiance against whatever force had invaded their meeting. The name embodied what he felt they needed to be: people looking out for the greater good of the community. To be on the watch... but for what, exactly? Not long ago, Cian would've just thought they'd be watching for clues about Grace's, or maybe investigating their strange abilities. But now it felt like something far more sinister was at play, something that definitely needed to be watched out for. Something that had been watching them first.

Carl had jumped up when he snapped out of his trance. He had immediately grabbed his phone, appeared to send some texts, and dashed out from the study room, leaving his contact info hastily scrawled into the study table itself. It was clear to Cian that Carl wasn't running [i]from[/i] something, but [i]toward[/i] something else, or someone. He wondered what vision Carl had seen that could've made him leave in such a panic. What Cian had seen was utterly perturbing, absolutely, but his father was already gone. Long gone…

The memory of his father's face in the void sent a sharp pang through Cian's chest. He pushed it aside, focusing on the present situation, on the people who were still here.

Cian pulled out his phone and entered Carl's number into his contacts. He gave the others the chance to do the same before licking his thumb and rubbing the ink off from the surface of the desk's polyurethane coating. He typed a quick message to Carl with just his name: Cian Cahill. That would be enough for now.

After Cian's initial proposal to band together, the others slowly expressed their verbal or silent assent. Morgan's determined voice rang out first: [color=03ddfb]"I will be your light in the dark."[/color] Serena followed with her own pledge of commitment, invoking her faith: [color=#FA8072]"God guided me here for a reason. I'm with you guys through and through as I know God will always be with us. What do we need to do next?"[/color]

Unknowingly, Cian smiled softly at Serena's conviction to her faith. Originally from the Bible Belt, Cian had met many devout followers of Christianity. He, however, had been raised in an atheist household, being the child of an analytical programmer and a scientist duo. Cian wondered how what had just happened could cause a crisis of faith for her. Ironically, Cian was feeling something similar, a crisis of science, being confronted with the inexplicable.

Cian watched while the others supported one another: Morgan filling the room with light and warmth that seemed to push back against the lingering chill, Jacob stepping toward Serena supportively, and Serena returning the favor in kind with her healing abilities. With his somewhat distant, maybe even slightly chilly demeanor, Cian began to feel a little self-conscious that he couldn't be as helpful or comforting in this moment, at least not with his strange bioelectric abilities. He was more comfortable with analysis than empathy.

[color=527D9A]"Before we do anything else,"[/color] Cian said, taking a deep breath to steady himself, [color=527D9A]"I think we should check on Carl. Whatever he saw—whatever we all saw—it was personal. Targeted."[/color] He glanced down at his phone, hoping for a response. [color=527D9A]"And I don't think that was random. I think something is trying to split us up before we've even started."[/color]

He looked at the whiteboard again, at the word WATCH that remained after he'd erased the rest of the message.

[color=527D9A]"Morgan, Serena, Jacob—what you all just did with your... abilities. That was incredible."[/color] His voice softened slightly, betraying a hint of vulnerability beneath his composed exterior. [color=527D9A]"I'll admit. I was little suspicious at first, but now I think what we have—it was a gift Grace gave us. Tools to fight, maybe. And even if I'm wrong, I still think we should use them. Our abilities may give us the leg up we need to figure everything out."[/color]

His phone buzzed with a notification. A text from Carl: "Out behind Graces' dumpsters. Backup?"
Cian's eyebrows shot up as he read the message. He turned the phone screen toward the others.

[color=527D9A]"Looks like we've got our first mission as the Neighborhood Watch. Who's coming with me to Grace's? Carl seems to be there already."[/color]

The electromagnetic pulse of his heart quickened as he gathered his things, ready to head out. He took a moment to pause, though. To exercise some empathy.

[color=527D9A]"If we're all okay, that is. I don't know what else could happen from here. Come with me, if you're ready."[/color]

All who were ready made their way out of study room C, Cian leading them through the library's hushed, empty interior. Cian expected as much, yet was still surprised to see that no one outside the study room seemed to have noticed anything was amiss. Ms. Winters glared at them wordlessly on their way outside.

The late afternoon sun cast long, gloomy shadows through the building's windows as they pushed through the main doors into the open air. Outside, the earlier rain had subsided to a gentle mist that clung to their skin and clothes, leaving everything with a glossy sheen under the streetlights that had begun to flicker on.

[color=527D9A]"It's getting dark. The empty storefront’s about six blocks from here, so not far."[/color] Cian oriented himself as they stepped onto the sidewalk. His senses felt heightened after their shared experience, the bioelectric fields of his companions registering more clearly than before.

They walked in relative silence, each processing what they'd seen in their visions. Occasionally, Cian would glance at his phone, checking for any additional messages from Carl. Nothing more came through.

As they approached downtown, the familiar landscape of storefronts took on an unsettling quality in the fading light. Cian felt a distinct shift in the electromagnetic field as they neared where Grace's Grotto should have been—had been. It was a subtle distortion that he had not noticed before and which made the hair on his arms stand on end.

[color=527D9A]"And here it is—… was,"[/color] he said, stopping in front of what was now clearly an empty storefront. The sight of it was so wrong. Main Street was filled with thriving small businesses. This storefront looked like it belonged in a long-forgotten ghost town. Abandoned long ago.

Standing there, the contrast between his memory and reality felt jarring. In his mind, he could still picture the warm glow of the café's lights, smell the rich aroma of coffee and tea, hear the gentle music that always seemed to be playing at just the right volume.

[color=527D9A]"It’s just impossible…"[/color] he muttered, more to himself than the others. [color=527D9A]"I was here just... well, whenever it was."[/color] He pressed a hand against the glass, trying to sense anything beyond. There was a strange emptiness to the building that didn't match what an empty storefront should feel like. It was [i]too[/i] clean, [i]too[/i] absent of residual energy.

[color=527D9A]"Carl said he was behind the place. Let's go around back."[/color] Cian led them down the narrow alley that ran alongside the building, past overflowing recycling bins from neighboring businesses and puddles reflecting the dim light from above. The electromagnetic distortion hummed lazily as they moved toward the rear of the building, buzzing in his teeth.

The back lot was mostly shadows, illuminated only by a single security light mounted high on an adjacent building. Two large dumpsters sat against the back wall of what had been Grace's Grotto, their metal surfaces slick with moisture. The smell of wet cardboard and rotting food mingled with the petrichor from the earlier rain.

[color=527D9A]"Carl?"[/color] Cian called out, his voice echoing slightly in the enclosed space. [color=527D9A]"We got your message."[/color]

He scanned the area, senses alert for any sign of their missing companion.

[color=527D9A]"Let's spread out a bit,"[/color] he suggested to the others, keeping his voice low. [color=527D9A]"But don’t split up. Stay within sight of each other. Look for physical evidence. Cups, waste… Anything, really. Proof we’re not crazy."[/color]