The darkness had receded like a tide, the walls of the shrine losing the darkness that had shrouded it from the Silent God's Last Prayer Hall.
As it did, the last cries from the Silent God had begun to permeate the area. They weren't screams of wrath, nor the hollow roars of some eldritch beast.
They were… mournful. Shuddering echoes that seemed to press against the marrow, the kind of sound that could unravel one's heart more than any blade.
The shrine trembled, its fractured stone weeping with black light, and every surface reflected those tears as if the world itself was grieving.
Even Kapaala fell silent, the ever-grinning mockery in his voice muted. The jester started to vanish in a wisp of black smoke, like before.
Riku's chest tightened. He couldn't stop staring at the unraveling figure, neither fully God nor entirely illusion, dissolving piece by piece.
There was... something human about it. Riku thought. Like it wasn't something of divinity. Like... it wanted to be remembered.
Suddenly, Riku collapsed to both of his knees, his vision blurry and his strength diminishing. He didn't care, though. The nightmare that was this day was over.
Well, for the most part. One stone was still left unturned.
Wait... Tetsuya!
Riku tried to move, but he couldn't lift his head up. Let alone even try to look around. Mei ran up to his side, trying to prop him up.
Riku coughed. "No... Akio. He's in far worse shape than me. I... I'll be fine."
Mei hesitated. She wanted to help him, but the truth in his words was almost tangible. As she turned to Akio, Mei saw him on the floor, barely conscious.
Barely alive, even.
"Damn it!" She grabbed Riku and hauled him to where Akio laid, as Riku groaned in both pain and exhaustion.
"Mei, stop..." He coughed again. This time it sounded worse. "I need to find my friend. H-He was-"
"I know all about your friend." Mei spat. "I had to sit and watch from... our lodgings, before I was sent here. I'll help you find him. You need to rest, dumbass." She sounded tensed. As if she loathed the fact she was kept away from this for as long as she was.
"H-How's Akio?" Riku choked out.
"He's... seen better days. Thank God I have the two vials left." Mei replied.
That's right. Riku forgot about those potions. Viropāṇa Potions. They were meant to heal the body of almost all ailments, no?
The vial's tip was pressed to their lips, the lime green liquid coating their tongues and providing them a sense of respite that felt better than the best of dreams.
Akio and Riku slowly sat up, the bleeding having stopped. Riku wiped away at his nose and once again saw a smear of the red viscous liquid on the back of his hand. He looked over at Akio, who seemed too dazed to even sit up straight, let alone talk.
"I-Is he going to be, okay?" Riku asked.
"He'll live... But he needs to recover. You do too." Mei replied.
"I'll rest after I find Tetsuya. J-Just give me a minute." Riku tried to stand, his legs feeling like twigs that were forced to support a skyscraper.
Mei snapped. "Riku, you can't even stand! Forget looking for your friend, you look like you're walking with legs made of glass!"
"It's fine. Don't these potions cure you of everything? Injuries, sicknesses, ailments?" Riku asked.
"Not everything. For instance, your Mantra reserves aren't replenished. Which means you'll be exhausted still. You're still running on empty, and you need to stop!" Mei said.
Riku shook his head, stubbornness etched into his features. "If Tetsuya's still in here, then I don't care what happens to me. I... Just let me do this. Please?" Riku's face looked solemn, almost pitiful. Like a beggar that needed alms for three weeks.
"You're impossible." Mei exhaled sharply, frustration creeping into her voice. "You're not some invincible warrior! You're not even a provisional Mantrik! You don't have the stamina to keep moving! You need rest! Don't—" She bit her tongue, shaking her head as if she was talking to a brick wall. Her grip on her sleeves tightened. "You're useless like this, and if you collapse in the middle of searching, then what? You want me to dig you a grave?"
Riku's lips curled into a grim smile. "I guess so. That'd be a mercy, honestly."
"That's not funny." Mei's tone snapped like a whip, but the sharpness faded almost instantly. She looked at him—really looked—and saw the fire behind the fatigue. For a moment she thought about holding her ground, but the sight of his trembling legs made her chest tighten. He was going to do this with or without her.
Mei threw her hands up. "Fine! You win. But when you collapse—and you will collapse—don't say I didn't warn you."
"Thank you." Riku managed a weak grin before clutching at the wall for support. "Now… let's find him."
-------
The shrine looked different now that the choking darkness had lifted. The walls, once cloaked in that shifting void, revealed themselves as old cypress beams, their appearance cracked with age. The faint smell of incense still clung to the air, though faintly, as if smothered by centuries of dust. Lanterns lined the walls, the faint glow that seeped through seemed almost welcoming after the oppressive gloom.
Riku dragged his legs forward, each step a battle against his failing strength. Mei stayed close, hovering behind him like a reluctant shadow, ready to catch him if he crumpled. He peered down the corridor, his eyes scanning every corner, every broken floorboard, every alcove where someone could be lying.
They passed by the offering hall. The tatami mats were frayed, scattered with shards of ceramic bowls and charred prayer slips. Riku's breath caught in his throat—memories of the Silent God's twisted illusions clawing at him—but he forced himself to keep moving.
"Tetsuya?" His voice cracked, echoing against the hollow walls. Nothing answered but the distant creak of wood.
The pair pressed deeper into the shrine, checking the meditation rooms one by one. Each was empty, save for scattered ritual implements and broken statues. The silence gnawed at Riku's nerves. He kept calling, weaker each time, but still no answer.
They turned into a side chamber where faint moonlight bled through a collapsed section of the roof. Dust swirled in the pale beam, and there—half-hidden among fallen beams and prayer scrolls—was a body.
Riku's heart lurched.
"Tetsuya!"
He stumbled forward, nearly falling as his knees buckled. Mei cursed under her breath and rushed to steady him, but Riku pushed her hand away, limping forward with renewed desperation. His breaths came ragged, tears already welling in his eyes before he even reached the figure.
Tetsuya lay crumpled on the floor, his dark hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, his uniform torn and bloodstained. For a second, the sheer stillness of him made Riku's blood run cold. He collapsed to his knees, fumbling to press his trembling fingers to Tetsuya's neck.
Silence. Then—
A faint, steady pulse.
He didn't believe it. Not at first. He thought that the pulse was just his own heartbeat playing a cruel prank of delusion with him. Riku wanted to believe it. Desperately.
Then he heard a small exhale from Tetsuya. And that's when he knew. He was never so eager to be certain about anything else in his life.
Tetsuya Shirogane was alive.
Riku let out a strangled laugh that broke into sobs. Relief flooded him so violently that he nearly toppled over. His shoulders shook as he bent over his best friend, tears dripping onto the dusty floor.
"He's alive… He's alive…" The words poured from him in broken whispers, like a prayer given form.
Mei let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, her the tension in her face loosening as she leaned against the wall. "Thank God. All this commotion for one reckless idiot." She smirked faintly to herself, muttering under her breath, "Guess the sentimental act paid off."
Riku ignored her, brushing debris off Tetsuya's chest with shaking hands. He wanted to say more, to promise Tetsuya he'd never leave his side again, but his throat closed around the words. He simply stayed there, clutching his friend's shoulder as though letting go would undo the fragile miracle he'd just discovered.
Riku looked around. "What do we do? We need to take him somewhere! A hospital should-"
"No. Not a hospital!" Mei interjected. "We need to take him to our lodgings. We have no idea what his body is going through. A proper examination by someone who knows the nature of Mantra should be able to help him. He'll die in a regular hospital."
Riku nodded. He had no idea of what these lodgings were, where they were, or what they held. All he needed was for Tetsuya to recover and be whole. To be the same idiot he was before this day went to hell.
But his body had other plans.
The strength that had been holding him together—the stubborn resolve, the scraps of adrenaline—finally bled out of him like water slipping through cracked hands. His vision swam, black blotches blooming across his sight. His arms trembled and gave way, forcing him to lean against Tetsuya's body just to stay upright.
"Riku?" Mei's voice sharpened instantly. She stepped forward, alarm threading through her tone.
He tried to respond, to reassure her, but only a rasp left his throat. The world tilted. His chest felt heavy, every heartbeat louder than the last.
Mei crouched beside him, grabbing his shoulders. "Hey—don't you dare pass out on me now! Damn it, you stubborn—"
Her voice blurred, the edges of her words slurring into indistinct noise.
Riku's last conscious thought was that Tetsuya was safe. That was enough.
The darkness surged back, not menacing this time, but soft—like the curtain falling at the end of a play. Somewhere in that silence, he thought he heard laughter, faint and approving, before everything went still.
------
As Riku awoke, the first thing he felt was a soft press of a mattress behind him. It felt amazing. The soft foam a balm for his weary body and heart. How long has it been since he felt a bed? He couldn't tell.
Suddenly, that heavenly feel of respite was snatched away.
"He's up." A female voice sounded from his left. It was husky, lacking panic or any urgency. The next second, he heard another voice. But he couldn't make out what it said fully.
"I figured... Akio... minutes ago. As for Tetsuya... malevolent Mantra..." The voice sounded as if it was from a man. His voice was very calm, very controlled. There wasn't an inkling of fear or anxiety in it. Just tranquility, like a setting sun that casted a purple hue across the sky.
Slowly, but surely, Riku's vision returned.
The first thing he noticed was the dark ceiling above, which was painted in a deep gradient of black and blue, like midnight sky washed across wood. Thin silver lines were etched along the beams, curling in crescents and arcs that reminded him of moons at every phase. His ears caught the faint creak of floorboards nearby, and the sharper snap of something brittle—plastic? No, it was followed by a quiet crunch.
"Yep," the husky female voice said again, chewing audibly. "He's up."
Riku blinked, his lashes heavy. His eyes found her first: a young woman leaning against the wall beside his bed, one leg drawn up on the chair, the other dangling lazily. A Pocky stick hung from her lips, tilted at an almost comical angle as she gnawed on it. Her hair was blonde, and from the lighting, bordering on white. It was cut in a slightly uneven bob that brushed just above her shoulders, with one side pinned back by a dull silver clip. She looked like she hadn't slept in a week—or maybe she just didn't care to look like she had.
Her dark eyes half-lidded, she waved the box of Pocky like it was some kind of sacred ritual. "Congrats. You didn't die."
"Sayaka," the calm male voice intoned. "Don't startle him. He needs reassurance, not mockery."
Riku turned his head—or tried to. His neck screamed in protest, but he forced himself to look toward the second figure.
The man sat neatly on a cushion across from the bed, hands folded in his lap with quiet grace. His black hair was tied into a loose ponytail that fell across one shoulder, a few strands framing his face. He looked to be in his late twenties, though something about his bearing made him feel older—like a teacher who'd seen countless classrooms come and go. His pale robes, embroidered faintly with crescent motifs, matched the ceiling's design.
When he spoke again, his voice carried that same steady cadence—measured, patient, like the rhythm of flowing water. "Welcome, Riku Shinsora. You're safe."
Riku's throat burned as he croaked out words. "... Where am I? W-Who are you?"
The man crouched at Riku's bedside, meeting him at eye level with a faint, reassuring smile. "My name is Renjirō Tsukimura. This is Sayaka Uro. You are in the lodgings of the Nobles of the Moonless Court," Renjirō said gently, inclining his head. "One of the many concords who walk the path of the Mantrik Order. For now, it is enough to know this... You are among allies."
Riku's brows furrowed, confusion seeping through his exhaustion. "Moonless… Court?" He almost laughed at the absurdity of it, but the dryness of his mouth turned it into a cough.
Sayaka sighed, reaching into her Pocky box and fishing one out like a drawling card shark. "Yeah, fancy name, right? Just think of it as… a club. Only instead of chess or debate, it's filled with keepers of peace." She snapped the stick between her teeth. "Perks include free lodging, free food, and—if you're lucky—some nice people to drag you out of hellholes when you pass out."
Riku pushed against the mattress, trying to sit up. "Tetsuya." His voice cracked. "Where—where is he? Is he—"
Renjirō raised a hand calmly, as though steadying not just Riku but the air itself. "Rest. He lives. That is what matters."
"Where is he?" Riku pressed, panic rising in his chest.
Renjirō's expression didn't waver, though his eyes softened. "He's alive. He's resting now. His body has endured a lot and is still continuing to endure. He'll be asleep for a while. I can't give you an exact time he will wake, but the medical team have confirmed he will live."
Riku exhaled shakily, his head dropping back onto the pillow. The relief was so heavy it almost hurt, like a weight pressing his chest in reverse.
Renjirō continued, his tone never losing that patient current. "You did well, Riku. Few would have had the will to stand against what you faced, let alone prevail. Your friend breathes because you refused to let go."
Something in those words scraped against Riku's chest, raw and tender. He swallowed hard, trying to keep his composure.
His thoughts scrambled toward another worry. "Akio. And Mei. Where—?"
Sayaka cut him off with a lazy wave of her Pocky box. "Alive. Relax."
He turned his head toward her, eyebrows knitting. "That's it?"
"Akio's awake. Mei's off nagging him, probably telling him he's an idiot." Sayaka shifted, tucking another stick into her mouth. She tilted her chin toward him with a faint smirk. "Idiots everywhere."
Despite the dryness in his throat, Riku barked out something like a laugh. It hurt, but it was real.
Renjirō's eyes crinkled faintly with warmth. "They are alive, Riku. That is the truth. Rest in that, at least for this moment."
The room fell into a hush, broken only by the faint crunching as Sayaka bit into another stick, and the distant hum of voices elsewhere in the lodgings.
Riku lay back, his body still too weak to fight the mattress that seemed intent on swallowing him whole. The words lingered in his head, circling like restless birds.
After everything was said and done, he was alive. Akio and Mei were alive.
Tetsuya was alive.
The nightmare was over, for now.
But as his gaze wandered across the crescent-etched ceiling, Riku couldn't shake the feeling that this place wasn't just shelter. It was the threshold of something else, something larger, something he couldn't yet name. As he looked around, he noticed how huge this one room was, which to him, could only add to the grandeur of wherever he was at the moment.
But the name still lingered in his head.
The Nobles of the Moonless Court.
He shifted, ignoring Renjirō's cautioning hand this time. "Okay, wait. Back up. You keep saying this name like I should know what it means. Who are you people? What even is this?"
Renjirō studied him for a moment, then nodded slightly, as though deciding something. "As I said before, you may think of us as a faction — an order, if you prefer. We are one of the Five Authorized Concords that act in balance with the Sastra Palimpsest."
Riku's brows furrowed, confusion heavy in his gaze. "Sastra what now?"
Sayaka cut in, voice muffled by another bite of Pocky. "You don't need to get it. Not tonight, anyway. You're a mess. Just sleep, eat, and stop asking about things you'll learn about later. Renjirō loves his lectures, and you'll regret encouraging him."
Renjirō chuckled faintly at her jab, shaking his head. "Sayaka prefers her simplicity. But she is right in one thing — rest is your priority now. There will be time to explain all else."
Riku opened his mouth to argue, but the exhaustion caught up to him before the words left his throat. His body felt like sandbags tied to his limbs, the weight of it pulling him back into the mattress. He looked at Renjirō, at Sayaka, then back toward the door as though willing Tetsuya to appear.
"Can I… see him? Just for a second?"
Renjirō's expression softened. He placed a steady hand on Riku's arm. "Not yet. But soon. You have my word, he will live. And when he wakes, he will need you. That is why you must recover, too."
Something about the certainty in his voice calmed Riku more than any potion could have. He closed his eyes briefly, inhaled the sandalwood scent of the room, and finally exhaled.
And for the first time since the shrine, the silence around him didn't feel oppressive. It felt like the start of something else.
Riku then felt the sweet lull of rest once more and drifted off to sleep.
Sayaka looked at Renjirō. "You think he'll come around to everything we'll tell him?"
Renjiro looked down, pondering on the question. "In time, I believe so. From what I've gathered, he's a bright boy, and he'll understand that his best conduit for thriving is here. As you said before, we are keepers of peace."
Sayaka stood up and stretched lazily. "I did say that..."
Renjirō spoke up, his eyes looking straight at Sayaka's.
"We are keepers of peace, but also the condemned, carrying blessings too heavy for our hands. What is salvation for others, is damnation for ourselves."