The corridor remained in silence.
Long.
Dark stone.
The light came from few points — just enough not to blind the path.
The footsteps echoed low.
Controlled.
Phoebe walked ahead.
Heron a step behind.
"By the urgency…"
The voice came low.
"not someone to be taken lightly."
Phoebe didn't answer immediately.
Her head tilted a degree.
As if listening to something that didn't come from sound.
"No."
A slight pause.
"Nor someone who holds back."
The air seemed narrower for a moment.
Heron kept the pace.
"So… there will be confrontation."
Phoebe took a few steps before answering.
"If necessary."
A slight pause.
"Be prepared."
Her voice remained calm.
Unraised.
A few more steps.
The corridor began to open.
And the silence…
shifted.
The courtyard opened in silence.
Wide. Clean. Old enough that the air itself seemed organized.
Sunlight fell at an angle, touching first the pale stone of the ground… and then the statue.
Tall.
Still.
The female figure raised the scales with one hand, the plates perfectly aligned — no tilt, no decision.
The blade rested in the other.
Low.
Contained.
As if it had not yet been used.
The light caught on the metal, reflecting a dry, almost cold gleam.
Nothing there seemed decorative.
Everything… final.
Further ahead, a figure stood.
Still.
The black cloak fell heavy, the hood completely covering the face.
The posture was upright.
Aligned.
Not rigid — stable.
The body turned toward the statue, as if the presence before it was not contemplation… but reading.
Nothing in him moved.
Not even visible breath.
A few steps behind, another figure.
Seated.
The same cloak.
The same silence.
But different.
The body relaxed enough not to seem on alert… and yet, without any carelessness.
Hands at rest.
No restlessness.
No tension.
The sound of footsteps did not echo.
It was absorbed.
Phoebe entered the courtyard like someone crossing a space she already knew — not by the path… but by the destination.
Heron followed a step behind.
The pace steady.
Controlled.
But as he crossed the boundary of the courtyard—
something changed.
Not in the environment.
In him.
A minimal adjustment in his chest.
Almost imperceptible.
The breath found a slight delay.
Too short to be failure.
Long enough not to go unnoticed by someone who knew their own body.
His gaze moved forward.
Read the space.
And then stopped.
Not by order.
By instinct.
Phoebe did not slow her step.
But she did not advance beyond what was necessary.
She stopped a few meters away.
Enough distance not to intrude.
Enough to observe.
Her presence did not press on the space.
But brought it into order.
As if everything around had, silently, adjusted to her arrival.
The courtyard did not change.
But it ceased to be neutral.
It started to answer.
Different.
Denser.
The figure by the statue did not move immediately.
The voice came first.
Low.
"Justice…"
A slight pause.
"is what they say stands between order and chaos."
The body remained turned toward the scales.
"But in the end…"
Another pause.
"it is only the name they give to what they choose to preserve."
The silence did not yield.
"And to what they choose to destroy."
The head tilted a degree.
As if observing the blade without touching it.
"They say it must be balanced."
A pause.
"I have never seen balance."
The air seemed to close in a little more.
"Only… decision."
Silence.
Then—
he moved.
He turned.
Without haste.
The hood still concealed the face.
But the presence was now turned toward them.
"And you?"
A slight pause.
"On which side do you believe you stand?"
The silence did not move.
Phoebe did not answer immediately.
"It is not a question of sides."
Her voice came calm.
Unraised.
"It never was."
The air seemed to adjust around her.
"What you call decision…"
An instant.
"was already made before it was understood."
"The rest…"
A brief pause.
"is only consequence."
Silence.
Her presence did not advance.
But it did not yield.
"Justice does not choose."
Her voice dropped a tone.
"It only reveals itself."
The silence did not last.
The figure by the statue spoke.
"If there is a war."
"And in it… they decided who should fall."
A pause.
"Not for their actions."
"But for their origin."
Silence.
"And even so…"
"they called that justice."
He stepped forward.
The shadows tightened a degree.
"Was it she who revealed herself…"
"or was she merely dictated…"
The voice dropped a tone.
"by those who think themselves above her?"
Her presence did not advance.
But it did not yield.
"It was not her."
A slight pause.
"It was failure."
The air seemed to adjust a degree.
"Failure… of those who judge."
"Of those who decide."
"And of those who believe they understand the weight of what they name."
An instant.
"Even you."
There was no rise in tone.
Only statement.
"Carry that failure."
Silence.
The head tilted a degree.
As if listening to something beyond.
"That is why…"
A short pause.
"they raise prisons they cannot open."
The air narrowed.
"Not to contain what is below."
"But to avoid facing…"
A slight lowering of tone.
"what escapes their judgment."
The presence remained stable.
"It is not fear of what exists there."
A slight pause.
"It is of what it reveals about them."
Phoebe took a step.
Slow.
Measured.
Then another.
The distance between them ceased to be comfortable.
Almost nonexistent.
She stopped a few centimeters away.
"And that is not why you are here."
Her voice dropped a tone.
Without accusation.
"You did not come to correct what they called justice."
The silence tightened around the two.
Then—
he moved.
Without any haste.
His hands rose.
The hood was pulled back.
The shadow gave way.
Pale skin, marked by a somber sheen.
Black hair fell in irregular strands to the nape.
The eyes—
deep.
Dark enough not to reflect light.
But to absorb it.
He observed her for a long moment.
Without haste.
Without disguise.
"As expected…"
The voice came low.
Firm.
"Tirésias."
"There is little to dispute with you… in this field."
The slight tilt of his head was not submission.
It was recognition.
"You see where others only choose."
Silence.
The gaze did not shift.
"Then I will not speak of justice."
A short pause.
"I will speak of consequence."
His eyes remained on her.
"And it begins…"
A slight shift of his gaze.
"with Gaia's offspring."
Heron's body moved half a step forward.
Instinctive.
Direct.
But did not complete it.
Phoebe's arm extended in front.
Enough.
He stopped.
The tension did not yield.
His eyes remained forward.
"I will not allow it."
A firm step.
"Not while I am standing."
His breathing adjusted.
The air seemed to give a degree around him.
The figure ahead did not hesitate.
"He is already—"
"Éreon."
The name did not echo.
It fell.
Like something that had already been there before being spoken.
The sound crossed the courtyard before the form appeared.
The black eyes moved away from Heron.
Stopped on the newcomer.
Heavy breathing.
Irregular.
Bronzed skin.
Short white hair stuck to his forehead with sweat.
His brown eyes searched for focus—
and found it.
Éreon's black eyes.
Phoebe did not look away.
"I will call someone to take you to whom you seek."
Her voice came calm.
Unraised.
Heron drew in air—
"I will not—"
"Heron."
The interruption came mid-word.
Without raising tone.
Precise. Irrevocable.
He stopped.
His body still leaning forward for a moment.
Phoebe's hand touched his.
Light.
Enough.
"What cannot be avoided…"
A slight pause.
"will not be."
Silence.
Neither of them held longer than necessary.
Heron cast one last look.
More steady this time.
Then turned.
Phoebe walked.
Stopped beside Karna.
Without hesitation.
"The one you seek…"
A slight pause.
"is no longer where you believe."
Her step resumed.
Without haste.
Without unnecessary sound.
The light remained still.
But the space—
adjusted to her passing.
Karna did not speak immediately.
His eyes remained on Éreon.
"I searched for you."
"And for Telvaris."
The silence did not yield.
"For two months."
A slight tilt of the head.
"Neither of you left a trace."
His eyes narrowed a degree.
"That does not happen… without reason."
He stepped forward.
Without haste.
His eyes shifted for an instant.
Stopped on the seated figure.
A second longer than necessary.
Then returned.
To Éreon.
"Then tell me where you were."
Éreon did not move.
His black eyes remained on him.
Still.
"It is not something that requires your concern."
Karna's jaw set.
A muscle tensed.
But he did not look away.
The air seemed narrower between them.
Then—
Éreon spoke.
"What you seek…"
A slight pause.
"is no longer here."
His eyes did not move.
"What existed between us…"
A slight lowering of tone.
"is over."
The weight of those words did not disperse.
It remained.
Dense.
Still.
Karna's eyes did not waver.
But the understanding did not come complete.
The silence weighed a moment longer.
"And what does that mean?"
The voice came low.
Firm.
Unraised.
His eyes did not shift.
"It does not seem concluded."
A short pause.
"It seems like you just changed the name of things…"
The air remained tense.
Éreon did not answer immediately.
A slight tilt of the head.
"You understand."
A slight pause.
"But choose not to accept."
The tone did not rise.
Did not press.
"And that… does not alter what was done."
Before any answer came—
footsteps.
Light. Irregular.
Éreon's eyes shifted.
Stopped on the boy.
Black hair, disheveled.
Skin marked by fissures of light.
One blue eye.
The other… golden.
His breathing faltered in small intervals.
The body still trying to keep up with something it did not understand.
Éreon observed him for a moment.
Without haste.
Without softness.
"Come."
The voice dropped low.
Simple.
The seated figure rose.
Without hesitation.
Without questioning.
The two began to walk.
They passed by Karna.
The air seemed to move with them.
Karna did not move.
But spoke.
"Brianna warned me."
A short pause.
His eyes still forward.
"That the one who left…"
A slight tightening of the jaw.
"might not be the same who would return."
Silence.
"I do not accept that."
Éreon's step ceased.
For an instant.
Without turning.
"To accept…"
A slight pause.
"was never a requirement."
The tone remained steady.
"Everything that crosses…"
A slight lowering of voice.
"pays the price."
A short pause.
"And I… always collect."
The air around seemed to vibrate.
Subtle.
Almost imperceptible.
Then—
a sound.
Low.
Dense.
Like something being displaced beyond the reach of sight.
A slight distortion in space.
Karna turned.
Fast.
But—
there was no one left.
Not Éreon.
Not the boy.
Not the presence that had occupied the space.
Only the courtyard.
Still.
Silent.
Karna remained still for a moment longer.
His eyes still on the point where space had distorted.
Empty.
"Seems he did not lie."
The voice came low.
Without force.
Without doubt.
Light footsteps crossed the courtyard.
Did not echo.
Stopped before him.
White eyes met light brown ones.
"Only confirmed what we already knew."
The voice came clean.
Without softening.
Without burden.
"Telvaris remains without a trace."
"And Éreon… is no longer a stable variable."
Silence.
Karna did not look away.
"'Variable.'"
A slight breath.
Without humor.
"Is that what you call it now?"
Her eyes did not change.
"It is how I treat what can compromise the scenario."
No rise.
No forced coldness.
Just… precision.
The air seemed drier between them.
"We do not have time to process this."
A pause.
"A war is forming."
"And it will not wait for understanding."
Silence.
Karna let out a brief breath through his nose.
Almost a smile.
Tired.
"Of course..."
His eyes still on her.
"you can separate it like that."
A pause.
"I cannot."
The tone did not rise.
But it grew firmer.
"They are not a scenario."
An instant.
"They are… what I have left."
Silence.
Brianna observed him.
Without haste.
Without any attempt to soften what she saw.
"I advise you to abandon the excess."
The voice came clean.
Direct.
"They are not here."
The air seemed drier between them.
"You can carry those absences with you, if you want."
A slight lowering of tone.
"But do not let it define your next step."
Silence.
Her eyes did not yield.
"Because, if you hesitate…"
a minimal pause
"it is not only them you lose."
The weight of the phrase did not come loud.
It came exact.
"Others pay."
Silence.
No comfort.
No space for an easy answer.
Only… fact.
"I will be unavailable."
"For a time."
A minimal step back.
"Seek Phoebe."
"She will update you on what is forming."
Karna held her gaze for another second.
"Keep going like this…"
The voice came low.
Without humor.
"and there will be no difference left."
The air changed.
Subtle.
But immediate.
Brianna did not answer.
Not with words.
The movement came first.
She advanced.
A single step.
Her hand rose.
Closed on his collar.
No space to retreat.
Faces close.
White eyes fixed on his.
The silence tightened between them.
"I am not like that woman."
A minimal pause.
"And I will not be."
Her fingers tightened a degree on the collar.
"Do not mistake control for indifference."
The voice came low.
Contained.
Dangerous for what it did not show.
"I do not have the luxury to react like you."
A slight pause.
"Nor the right to fail."
She let go.
Turned.
And walked.
Without looking back.
Her steps disappeared into the courtyard.
As if they had never been there.
Karna remained where he was.
His breath still held in his chest.
His eyes followed for a moment—
and then gave way.
Shifted.
Stopped on the statue.
Tall.
Still.
The scales still perfect. No tilt.
The blade low.
Untouched.
The silence remained.
He let out a light breath.
Almost inaudible.
"Justice…"
A minimal trace at the corner of his mouth.
No humor.
No belief.
"Of course."
His eyes did not move.
But something in them changed.
Slightly.
Enough.