Getting A System In A Modern World

Chapter 286:  Paris

Silas sat alone on the rooftop of his temporary apartment in Seoul, looking at the city below but his brain didn't register the scenery.

His mind was elsewhere, caught in the aftermath of his encounter with Ji-Yeon.

He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped tightly. The cool night air brushed against his face, but it did little to soothe the unease in his chest.

The kiss, the intensity, the moment they had shared—it all felt very strange, like it belonged to someone else, and not him.

"Why did I let it happen?" he muttered to himself, his voice barely above a whisper.

The question lingered, unanswered. He had replayed the encounter over and over in his mind, searching for clarity.

The way Ji-Yeon's presence had drawn him in, the magnetic pull he couldn't resist—it was as if something beyond his control had taken hold of him.

Silas wasn't someone who let emotions dictate his actions, yet with her, he had felt like a marionette, his strings pulled by an unseen force. Something that alarmed him.

He has already undergone his second evolution and only him understood just by how much he has grown due to it. But even with that, he still found himself in such a position. Something that felt very ridiculous to him.

Silas closed his eyes, trying to dissect the strange sensations he had experienced during their time together.

There had been a weight to her presence, an almost imperceptible aura that had enveloped him, clouding his thoughts and amplifying his desires. It hadn't felt natural.

He clenched his fists, the memory of her words echoing in his mind.

"Why does it feel like I've known you forever?"

The same question haunted him now. The connection he had felt wasn't just physical—it had been deeper, more intrusive, like someone probing the edges of his soul. Nôv(el)B\\jnn

And yet, despite the intimacy of the moment, he couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't entirely his.

"I wasn't myself," he murmured, his voice tinged with frustration.

His thoughts drifted to Chloe. She, who had seen him for who he truly was—before the powers, before the evolution, before he became something more and less than human.

He could still picture her smile, the way her laughter had a way of making the world seem less heavy.

He didn't know when it started or how it started but one way or the other, Chloe became his anchor, his reminder of what it meant to be human in a life that often felt anything but that.

"Chloe..." he whispered, her name carrying a weight he hadn't allowed himself to feel in a long time.

He leaned back against the railing, staring up at the sky. The stars were faint, barely visible against the haze of city lights, but they were there, constant and unchanging. Much like Chloe's presence in his mind, a quiet reminder of a simpler time.

Their last conversation replayed in his thoughts, a bittersweet memory etched into his soul. He remembered the way she had looked at him, her eyes filled with concern as she asked if he was okay.

Silas had lied, of course, brushing off her worries. But he knew that she had seen through him just as she always has.

She had always been more than a friend to him, though he had never admitted it, not even to himself.

Chloe represented everything he couldn't have, a life he could never return to. No matter how he tries to deny it, she was one of those who mattered the most to him.

Silas sighed, running a hand through his hair. The encounter with Ji-Yeon had stirred something within him, something he didn't fully understand.

But it had also reminded him of what he was missing, of the connection he had always yearned for but was too afraid to pursue.

He stood, the cool metal of the railing steady beneath his hands as he looked out over the city. The world below brimmed with life, but for Silas, it felt distant, like a painting he couldn't touch.

"I need to get out of here," he muttered.

{Are you all right, Silas? You seem... distracted.} Luna's voice sounded softly in his head.

"Just... thinking. About everything."

{Your encounter with Ji-Yeon?}

Silas stiffened. "Yeah."

{Of course. You're never this... unfocused.}

He exhaled slowly, leaning his head back to stare at the sky. "It felt like I wasn't in control, Luna. Like something—someone—was influencing me. It wasn't natural."

{Interesting. You believe Ji-Yeon has abilities?}  Luna asked.

Silas nodded in response.

"I don't know for sure, but it's possible. She had this... aura. Like she could see through me, manipulate me without saying a word."

{It's worth investigating. But more importantly, are you certain this is what you want to focus on?}

He didn't answer immediately. Instead, his thoughts drifted back to the reeaskn5wht he left Venezuela and startef this trip of his.

"No," he said finally.

*****

Silas leaned back in the plush seat of his private jet.

The sun was beginning to rise, casting a warm, golden light over the horizon. He stared out the window, watching as clouds parted to reveal the distant silhouette of Paris below.

The City of Light was his next destination, and with it.

{Paris,} Luna's voice broke through the stillness.

{A city of art, culture, and romance. Do you have a plan this time, or are you just wandering again?}

Silas smirked faintly, though his gaze didn't leave the window. "I think I'll let the city decide for me. Wandering worked in Tokyo, didn't it?"

{Debatable,} Luna quipped.

{But I'll leave you to your methods. Just remember to keep a low profile. The world is watching, even when you think it isn't.}

"Always," Silas murmured, his voice quiet.

He was completely aware that they are people out there, still looking for him for whatever reason they have but that doesn't mean he has cage himself up because of them.

The streets of Paris were alive. Cobblestone paths wound through neighborhoods where history and modernity coexisted seamlessly.

Cafés spilled onto sidewalks, their tables crowded with locals and tourists sipping espresso and savoring buttery croissants.

Silas strolled along the Seine, the iconic river that wove its way through the heart of the city.

The gentle lapping of water against the stone embankments provided a calming rhythm as he moved through the crowds.

Stopping at a street vendor's cart, he purchased a small sketchbook and a charcoal pencil. It was an impulse decision, but something about the city inspired creativity.

He found a quiet spot beneath the shade of a tree and began sketching the Eiffel Tower in the distance.

His strokes were uncertain at first, but as the minutes passed, he lost himself in the act of creation.

"That's quite good," a voice interrupted, smooth and accented with French elegance.

Silas glanced up to see a man standing nearby, tall and immaculately dressed in a tailored suit. His hair was dark and slicked back.

"Just passing the time," Silas said, his tone casual as he closed the sketchbook.

The man smiled faintly. "In Paris, there's no such thing as simply passing the time. Everything has meaning."

Silas chuckled. "And what does this moment mean, then?"

He felt that everyone was putting too much thoughts and meaning to everything these days.

The man's smile widened, but his answer was ambiguous. "That depends on what you make of it."

Before Silas could respond, the man extended a hand.

"My name is Laurent. I host private art exhibitions not far from here. Your technique shows promise. Perhaps you'd consider joining us?"

Silas hesitatedbfor moment, slightly caught off guard by the offer. But after giving it a quick thought, he decided to accept Laurent's invitation.

"Sure," Silas said, standing and shaking Laurent's hand. "Why not?"

Laurent's gallery was tucked away in the Marais district, a charming neighborhood known for its art and culture.

The space was intimate, its walls adorned with a mix of contemporary and classical pieces. The faint strains of a violin played in the background as Silas entered, his eyes scanning the room.

Artists and collectors mingled, their conversations a blend of French, English, and other languages.

Laurent greeted him with a glass of wine, his smile as effortless as before.

"Welcome," Laurent said, gesturing to the room. "Feel free to explore. There's no better way to understand Paris than through its art."

Silas nodded, taking a sip of the wine as he wandered. The pieces on display were varied.

Bold abstracts hung beside delicate landscapes, while sculptures of marble and bronze stood like silent sentinels.

One painting in particular caught his attention. It was a haunting depiction of a lone figure standing at the edge of a vast, stormy ocean.

The colors were dark, turbulent, yet there was a faint glimmer of light on the horizon.

"You feel it too, don't you?"

The voice startled Silas. He turned to see a young woman standing beside him, her gaze fixed on the painting. She was petite, with sharp features and a cascade of auburn curls that framed her face.

"Feel what?" he asked.

"The pull," she said simply. "Like the ocean is calling to you."

Silas frowned, already feeling an headache coming on.

"What do you mean by that?"

She looked at him then, her green eyes piercing. "I've seen you before. Not here, not in Paris, but somewhere... important."

Silas blinked in confusion when he heard this.

"I think you're mistaken."

The woman shook her head, her expression unwavering. "No. People like us—we're drawn to each other. Whether we want to be or not."

Silas' confusion intensified when he heard this. 'What does she mean by people like us?'

He could already the a guess and looking at the woman, he felt that it was very unlikely but still...

 "I don't know what you're talking about."

She smiled faintly, as if she could see through his denial. "You will. Soon enough."

Before he could respond, she turned and disappeared into the crowd, leaving Silas with more questions than answers.

"All I just wanted was a trip to escape the craziness of the past two years but I'm experiencing more craziness."

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