Run: 2026-02-19-01KHTRAZT4D1V3TE09484STZ4J

Aurora slipped into Silas' bar, grateful for the familiar gloom after the chaos of Soho's Friday night revelry. The music pulsed outside, a foreign rhythm to the hushed sanctuary within. The cloying, sweet fragrance of coconut and lime hung in the air, a heady contrast to the musty smell of old tomes and faded photographs that were the bar's hallmarks. She moved deeper into the room, her eyes adjusting to the subtle lighting, already accustomed to the hush of this quiet corner of the city. "Laila!" The voice, gravelly and warm with age, captured her attention. Aurora stilled, staring at the unfamiliar face, her mind searching for a name to pair with the broad smile. She hadn't expected this face to greet her, this man with the grey-streaked auburn hair and the worn, leather-like appearance of one who had spent a life out in the sun. "Silas?" she asked, her voice a whisper as she recognised the owner of the bar she now stood in. "Oh my God, is that you? I mean, you're... you're looking..." "Older," he finished for her, his smile turning a hint wistful. His once keen hazel eyes held a warmth that hadn't diminished but now also carried the weight of many tales untold. "Age has a way of creeping up on us when we least expect it." Aurora nodded, feeling a sense of melancholy settle over her. The memory of her past friendship with this man pressed on her, a vivid reminder of her youth. "You saw me coming and hid behind the bar, didn't you?" "A man must have his secrets, girl." His laugh, rich and deep, was unchanged. She noted the slight strain in his voice, a telltale sign of his years. "And you're still as sharp as I remember. But of course, you were always too clever for your own good." She chuckled, the sound taking her back to the countless times they had shared drinks in various bars across the city. Silas had been her father's friend and, by extension, a mentor to her. His keen mind, his endless fascinating tales, and his quiet authority over any room he entered had captivated her. Time had tempered his disposition, but the essence of the man, his nature, was unchanged. "How've you been, kid?" He poured two whiskies, the amber liquid glinting under the soft lights, and slid one across the mahogany bar to her. "I've not seen you around here for too long. Thought you'd found another nest to call home." She shrugged, lifting the glass to savour the familiar scent. "I've been around. You know how it is, life gets in the way. And this place hasn't changed. Still my go-to for escape when the city's madness becomes too much." "One doesn't need to change perfection, they say." His tone was as dry as the exquisite whisky he'd served. Silas leaned on the bar, observing her through the flickering candlelight, a look of silent judgement on his face. Aurora held his gaze, remembering her old self. Free-spirited and impetuous, she had challenged every authority figure that had crossed her path, from teachers to corrupt politicians, never once backing down. That person had faded with each passing year, but Silas seemed to see right through the illusion of maturity she had so carefully constructed. "You always were too good at seeing through my act," she admitted, her tone light but her expression earnest. "Some things never change, I guess." Silas smiled, his eyes softening. "I see a young woman who's seen things she shouldn't have, who's learned some hard lessons, but who's come out the other side stronger." He tilted his head, studying her with an intensity that made her shift under his gaze. "I see a woman who's found her place and is making damn sure she stays there." Her throat tightened at his words, an unfamiliar mix of comfort and unease stirring within her. "I guess that's one way of putting it." She glanced away, focusing on the half-empty glass in her hand. "Life's gotten complicated, Silas. The city—the world, even—isn't the same as it was when we'd meet up for drinks and plot revolutions." "The world never stops turning, girl," he said gently. "But the revolutions you spoke of, the changes you wanted to see... they don't all end in glory. Sometimes they simmer under the surface, slow and sure. Like the finest whisky, aging over time until it's just right." Aurora smiled at the analogy, a private joke between them from years past. It held a new resonance now, a comforting reminder of the unshakeable bond they shared despite their long absence from each other's lives. "True, Silas, so true." She sipped her whisky. Silas inclined his head towards the hidden room at the back, the room that had served as a centre of clandestine meetings and countless conspiracies over the years. "Then come. Let's catch up properly. After all, we've got many years of drinks to make up for."