The Oldest House hummed with its usual strangeness as Trench walked through its dimly lit corridors at the end of a long day. His footsteps echoed faintly against the brutalist architecture, each step a reminder of the weight he carried—of responsibilities, decisions, and the ghost of a love he had just let go.
The day had been relentless, as usual. Rift containment, hostile entities, and more paperwork than any sane person should face. Yet, it wasn't the work that lingered in Trench's thoughts as he descended to the Executive Sector. It was the absence of Colin.
He shook his head as if to banish the thought. "Focus, Trench," he muttered to himself.
The Executive Sector was quieter now, its usual hustle reduced to a few lingering employees finishing their tasks. Trench wasn't expecting to run into anyone, much less someone new. But as he turned a corner, he almost collided with a civilian office worker carrying a precarious stack of files.
"Whoa!" the woman exclaimed, narrowly avoiding disaster as she steadied the files against her chest.
"Sorry," Trench said instinctively, reaching out to steady her even though she'd already recovered.
She glanced up at him, offering a small, slightly embarrassed smile. "No harm done. My fault for not watching where I was going."
Her name tag caught his eye—Kate Johnson, Archives. She had a warm, approachable demeanor, her auburn hair loosely tied back, framing a face that seemed lit from within despite the fluorescent lights.
"You're working late," he remarked, realizing how out of place she seemed in the Bureau's labyrinthine halls. Civilians weren't exactly rare in the Oldest House, but they seldom wandered the Executive Sector after hours.
Kate shrugged, balancing her files. "First week. Trying to make a good impression."
"First week here? At the Bureau?" Trench raised an eyebrow.
"Yep. Transferred over from a government archives division," she said. "Not quite what I was expecting, but then, I'm guessing nothing about this place is typical."
"Not even close," Trench replied, allowing a faint smile.
She chuckled. "Figured as much. Anyway, I'm Kate. Nice to meet you, uh…?"
"Agent Trench," he said simply. "Good luck. You'll need it."
Kate laughed again, a genuine sound that caught him off guard. It was disarming, how easily she seemed to brighten the space around her. "I'll keep that in mind," she said, shifting the files in her arms. "Have a good night."
"You too." Trench watched her walk away, a strange lightness settling over him as her figure disappeared down the corridor.
The elevator ride down to the lobby felt oddly different. He leaned against the back wall, replaying the brief interaction in his mind. Kate Johnson. There had been something about her, a sense of calm amidst the chaos of the Bureau—a spark he hadn't felt in what seemed like forever.
But then, the memories of Colin surged back, unbidden. The breakup was still fresh, the ache raw. Trench wasn't naïve; he knew the dangers of letting himself feel again so soon. He'd built walls for a reason, to keep his emotions in check, to keep people at arm's length. Yet, tonight, those walls felt just a little less impenetrable.
As the elevator doors slid open and Trench stepped into the lobby, he exhaled slowly, glancing at the faintly pulsing lights above. Maybe the Oldest House wasn't the only thing shifting tonight.
