Words: 541

There was something wrong. Not anything in the physical sense, despite the war that set the city into darkness, but something in his gut. Something inside his very being was telling him something was wrong.

Valhalla, no longer a teenager, but hardly feeling like an adult, sat motionless on the roof of his apartment building, save for his hands that gently turned the rings around the unmoving compass. His fiance was asleep in the apartment directly below. Paris was barely a day older than nineteen, but had so much weight on his shoulders, Valhalla was left to wonder how he managed it. He let him sleep, knowing he had a long day of school and dance ahead of him, not wanting to draw him in to something that would only cause him more stress.

Even now, anxiety bubbled up inside him, but there wasn’t much he could really do about it, was there? Nothing seemed wrong with the gyrocompass in his hands. It was still perfectly spherical, offering the same gentle warmth and comfort it always had... but this time there was something more.

Perhaps he was just being paranoid. Surely he was just imagining this strange sensation. It was probably caused due to the fact that he’d had too much for dinner.

And yet...

He couldn’t help but think it might be some kind of warning. A precursor to something bad happening. He had no proof that something like that was even possible, but it wouldn't be unheard of, right? With everything that has happened in the past two years, with a war still raging, despite the general quiet of the side of Chaos, why couldn’t this be some kind of warning...?

A car alarm went off somewhere, probably a couple block away, but the noise seemed amplified as it melted in with Valhalla’s thoughts, his winged helmet doing nothing to muffle the sudden pounding of his heart.

His first thought, of course, was to talk to Paris about it. Wake him, despite wanting to keep him as removed as possible from all this. Maybe he would have an idea of what was going on. But... would he even be able to understand? He wouldn’t be able to feel this sensation like Valhalla could. He wouldn’t understand how the anxiety only came about when he touched the rings of the compass, its arrow always pointing due North. Paris, as a senshi, wouldn’t understand the connection he had with his weapon, how he felt the need to always have it at his side. It was like an extension of himself, not just in ways of using his magic, but because it was... well... a part of him.

No, he needed to talk to another knight about this. If only to quell his worries. If only for the chance to be told that he was overthinking it, and maybe it really was just indigestion. Paris would be okay, asleep and unknowing of his fiance’s sudden bemusement. Safe from the stress his concerns would cause him. Nothing would happen while he was away... to either of them... At least that’s what Valhalla promised himself as he made his way towards the edge of the roof, in the direction of the library.