The silence between Sunny and Kael was heavy—like the kind that followed a storm no one survived.
The object sat in Sunny's palm. Light, yet terrifying. A shape so simple it felt ancient. It pulsed faintly, as though reacting to the questions tearing through his mind.
"Reality will only change when they want it to," Kael had said.
But who were they? The world? The broken? The gods?
Sunny clenched his fist around the object. His eyes were hollow. The nightmare still lingered—images of children crying in silence, of beliefs turned into chains, of innocence twisted into obedience.
"Kael…" Sunny whispered. "If this thing can change everything… why didn't you use it?"
Kael didn't answer.
Instead, he reached into his coat and pulled out a folded letter—worn, bloodstained, and sealed with a symbol Sunny had only seen in ruins: a broken crown over an eye.
"This was from him. My brother," Kael murmured.
Sunny hesitated, then took the letter.
> "If you're reading this, it means I failed to change the world… again. But maybe you can."
"Her name was Elia. She taught me that belief without love is tyranny. And love without truth… is a lie."
"I let them burn her because I couldn't let go of what I believed. I thought she'd understand. I was wrong."
"Amon saved me… but not for the right reasons. He gave me purpose. He gave me this object."
"But when I tried to use it, it didn't respond. Because no one wanted to change."
"So I became silent. A guardian of forgotten hope. I erased my name so I wouldn't remember why it hurt."
"But maybe you will remember… why you started."
Sunny felt the paper tremble in his hands, not from any magic—but from the weight of a soul that had been crushed by love and belief colliding.
Kael stood, the wind tugging at his tattered cloak. "He was called Berzilus. He once had fire in his eyes… now he watches the world in silence."
Sunny's breath hitched.
"…Berzilus?"
Kael turned toward him, gaze unreadable. "Yes. Your brother."