Vayukshi did not sleep.
Ira realized this as she stood on one of the upper walkways, watching pale light drift across stone towers that had never known collapse. The city did not breathe. It did not shift. It did not grow.
It simply… remained.
Devansh stood a short distance away, facing the open expanse beyond the inner walls, his silhouette dark against a sky threaded with unfamiliar constellations.
"You never leave this place," she said.
"I cannot," he replied.
"Because you're bound to it?"
"Yes."
She hesitated. "Or because it is bound to you?"
That made him turn.
For a moment, she thought he might dismiss the question. Instead, he said, "The city was shaped around us. The Chiranjivs. Our curses altered its laws. Its time. Its borders."
Ira absorbed that slowly.
"So Vayukshi isn't protecting you," she murmured. "It's containing you."
Devansh studied her. "That distinction matters to you."
"It always does."
She leaned lightly against the stone railing, her fingers brushing the cool surface. The heaviness inside her stirred in response to his nearness—familiar now, almost… conversational.
"Do others like you live here?" she asked.
"Not anymore."
"What happened to them?"
He did not answer at once.
"When immortality became unbearable," he said finally, "some chose endings. Some chose madness. Some chose sleep."
Her breath caught. "And you?"
"I chose responsibility."
"For what?"
"For ensuring this place never opens fully again."
Ira closed her eyes briefly.
That explained the silence.
Not emptiness.
Containment.
"How long has it been since anyone stayed here with you?" she asked.
Devansh's gaze drifted back to the cityscape. "Long enough that the sound of your footsteps still feels… incorrect."
A strange warmth moved through her chest at that.
Then something colder followed.
She swayed slightly.
Devansh was beside her instantly.
"You're losing balance," he said.
"No," she whispered. "I'm losing… response."
Her hands trembled as she lifted them, palms upward. "I should be afraid. Or tired. Or sad. But all I feel is… density."
He looked at her hands, then at her face.
"You are paying too quickly," he said.
She met his eyes. "Then stop standing so close to me."
He did not move.
"Devansh."
"You are already bound," he replied quietly. "Distance will not undo what has begun."
Something in his voice made her heart tighten.
"Tell me the truth," she said. "What happens if I stay?"
He hesitated.
And that hesitation frightened her more than any answer.
"The city will recognize you," he said. "And once it does… it will not let you leave unchanged."
Ira exhaled slowly.
"I didn't come here unchanged."
Devansh watched her in silence.
And in the deep foundations of Vayukshi, something old shifted—as if the city itself were listening.