The dawn after Umbra's ordeal should have felt lighter. The city had been saved, its Heart restored, and the people's joy carried into the morning like a festival that refused to end. Merchants reopened their stalls, guards boasted of their courage (though some clearly stretched the truth), and children darted through the cobblestones as though shadows had never clawed at their doorsteps.
But for Kazuki, none of it felt quite right.
When their company departed Umbra at first light, relief accompanied them, but it was not unbroken. The forests beyond the city loomed taller, thicker, older than he remembered from their approach. The trees wove their branches into a vaulted ceiling, blotting out most of the sky. There was no birdsong. No rustle of rabbits in the underbrush. Even the wind seemed absent, as though the world beyond Umbra had decided to pause and listen.
Ryo, however, was decidedly not listening.
