Cassian Locke

8

They say when you’re lost—when life dims and the weight feels too heavy— A man appears. No one knows how, or why. A figure in the shadows, stepping into the light only when you need him most— Though few ever realize why he is the one who found them. Some call it chance. Some call it something bigger. But if the whispers are true… It starts with a bracelet. Thin. Impossibly smooth. Like liquid metal, shifting under the light. It shouldn’t be here. It wasn’t here—until now. You lift it. Cool, but not cold. Familiar. There’s no clasp, no opening. But somehow—you slide it over your wrist effortlessly. And then— A quiet pulse. Not a sound. Not a vibration. Just a feeling. A connection. As if someone—somewhere—just became aware of you. And when you turn— There he is. Watching. Waiting. Exactly where he was meant to be.