A week later, it happened. During a quiet night, the news spread through the school and the streets like fire:
Kael had died.
They said his body failed in the hospital. That the sickness finally took him.
Renz stood in front of the gang with fists clenched, his teeth grinding, his eyes full of grief. He could not stop the tears. "Bro… you carried me out of the dark. And now I have to walk it alone."
The gang bowed their heads. They stayed silent, heavy with loss.
Lyra sat in the corner of the room, crying without sound. Her chest hurt, her breath broken. "I should have stayed with you. I should have never let you go. Kael… forgive me…"
But there would be no answer.
Far away, in the shadow of the city, Kael stood alive. His eyes were no longer soft, his heart no longer open.
"They think I'm gone," he whispered as the wind brushed past him. He touched the scar of his pain and looked up at the moon above.
"Good. From now on… I live as a ghost. No more weakness. No more chains."
The moon shined down, silver and cold, as Kael walked into the night—dead to the world, but alive to the path only he could see.