Noel woke before the rest, the dim glow of the mana-lamps still soft against the cabin walls. The air was cool and quiet, filled only with the faint hum of the ship's engines moving through the endless tunnel.
He reached a hand to his side out of habit. Empty.
Noir wasn't there.
The system's message from that night echoed in his head: [Noir is evolving…]
He sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 'She always pushed me during training. Without her, it feels… empty.'
Noel stood, stretching, then began to dress: a black shirt tucked into fitted trousers, light boots, and his short jacket. His gaze fell to Revenant Fang, resting against the wall. The cursed blade seemed heavier than usual when he slung it at his hip, its black sheen dull in the mana-light.
"Guess it's just you and me today," he muttered.
He splashed water on his face from the small basin, combed a hand through his hair, and tightened his belt. Then he stepped out into the corridor.
