Daylight still dazzled them slightly after everything that had just happened, harsh after the unreal darkness that had swallowed the city only moments earlier. The veil of shadows had disappeared. The sky had returned to normal, an almost pure blue crossed by calm clouds that seemed completely unaware of what had just happened. Too normal. Far too normal.
As if the world itself was awkwardly trying to stitch reality back together, to hide the cracks, to pretend that nothing had happened, that the streets had not trembled, that the air had not torn apart, that something had not tried to open a door in the middle of their world.
Even the wind felt fake now, too light, too peaceful. Nyros remained silent for a few seconds, motionless in the middle of that false calm, his eyes lost somewhere in the distance while his slow breathing contrasted with the chaos still vibrating in the air.
Then he slightly turned his head toward Arzyel.
"...Well."
A breath passed through the wind.
"You'll understand when your time comes."
His voice was no longer aggressive.
Calmer.
Almost tired.
"And on that day… you'll finally understand why they were afraid."
Arzyel didn't answer.
His body still felt heavy.
His left eye burned faintly.
Nyros finally looked away.
"I'm going home."
Then he started walking away.
Without turning back.
Arzyel watched him disappear into the daylight, his shadow slowly fading among the silent streets once again.
The light still trembled in his eyes, too bright, too real, and his breathing remained uneven, shattered, every inhale slightly burning his chest as if the air itself refused to enter—but that wasn't it. Not really. The sound came from somewhere else. Not around him. Inside him.
A whisper slipped through, faint and stretched.
— protect him… or he will break —
Then another one, heavier, closer.
— he is not ready… but he is already open —
Arzyel didn't move. His body still refused to respond, his legs numb, his arms heavy, his heart beating too fast.
— weak… unusable… unstable —
His fingers tightened against the shattered stone, the fragments cutting into his skin without him truly reacting.
— let us… fix this —
"...Shut up..." he whispered, but the silence lasted only a fraction of a second before everything suddenly saturated at once.
— HE CAN FINALLY HEAR US —
— OPEN WIDER —
His left eye pulsed violently, not just a tremor but a heartbeat, regular, foreign, imposed, and the pain rose instantly, direct and brutal. He brought a hand to his face, but the air in front of him was already folding in on itself like wrinkled fabric. A black line appeared, thin, unreal, then cracked open—not in the world itself, but in something deeper, something he couldn't name, and he felt it all the way into his bones, a silent but absolute fracture.
The voices suddenly stopped, cut off so sharply it felt as if they had been ripped away. Even the wind itself seemed to freeze.
Then laughter slipped through.
Slow.
Uneven.
As if it was learning how to exist.
The fissure pulsed once, then again, opening just enough to reveal a gaze.
One single eye.
White.
Empty.
And yet alive.
"...Already?"
The voice had no source. It echoed everywhere at once—in the air, in the ground, inside his head.
Arzyel froze completely. His heart skipped a beat before racing far too fast.
"...You didn't even last a minute. And you're already breaking."
The fissure widened further, slowly, as if something behind it was resisting. Then a hand emerged.
Black.
Unstable.
Its outline trembled as if it wasn't fully attached to reality, the fingers too long, too precise, resting against empty space without support and yet perfectly still. Present.
He tried to move.
Pure instinct.
The pressure instantly crashed back onto him, crushing.
"...I like this. You're already starting to crack."
The woman wasn't fully there, only halfway through. Her face shifted between two states, one side clear, the other distorted, as if she couldn't decide whether to exist or not. Her eyes slowly scanned the world with almost curious interest.
"It's… heavier than I expected…"
She tried to breathe in. Her body didn't respond perfectly.
"...Interesting."
The voices returned.
More numerous.
Closer.
More urgent.
— she must not pass… she is not authorized —
— destroy the anchor point —
— use him… he is an entry point —
Arzyel clenched his teeth.
"...Get out..."
The woman stopped.
Then slowly smiled.
"You've got the wrong monster… I'm just the one you allowed through."
The voices instantly rose again.
— SHE LIES —
— SHE IS A THREAT —
— BUT NOT THE ONLY ONE —
A brief silence passed.
The woman slightly tilted her head, as if looking beyond the world itself.
Then a quiet laugh escaped her.
"Ah… too late. They already found you."
The fissure trembled violently, unstable.
She locked eyes with Arzyel.
"Bad news…"
A pause.
"...I'm not the worst thing behind this door. I'm just the first."
The ground immediately shook.
Not from impact.
From beneath him.
The cracks around Arzyel reopened, deeper and faster. His left eye suddenly snapped open.
Completely.
A presence burst out of it.
Dark.
Dense.
Alive.
The voices screamed.
— IT'S OPENING —
— NOW —
— TAKE CONTROL —
— NO… NOT YET… HE WON'T HOLD —
Arzyel screamed.
Not from pain.
From overload.
Too many things.
Too many voices.
Too much presence.
His body shook violently. The ground exploded beneath him. The air twisted under an invisible pressure.
The woman stepped back slightly. Her eyes widened even more.
Fascinated.
"Oh…"
A slow smile stretched across her face.
"...You… you're not a person. You're an entrance. Ah right… before I disappear… this city is an illu—"
Her sentence broke apart.
Not interrupted.
Cut.
Her body vanished in an impossible motion, as if something had ripped her out of reality itself.
But at the exact same moment—
she raised her hand.
And struck.
Not toward Arzyel.
Toward the sky.
An invisible line tore through the air, silent, precise… absolute.
An impact.
Something—someone—was hit.
But Arzyel saw nothing.
Only… a reaction.
A tiny distortion in the emptiness.
As if the world itself had blinked a fraction of a second too late.
Then nothing.
She was gone.
...
The fissure pulsed.
Once.
Twice.
Harder.
Much harder.
A deep sound rose from below, like the heartbeat of something gigantic preparing to burst.
Arzyel felt the air grow heavy.
Fake.
Everything was fake.
The city.
The silence.
Even the ground beneath his feet.
The fissure opened wider—slowly, as if savoring the moment.
Then—
everything stopped.
Brutally.
As if something had cut everything off at once.
The fissure slammed shut instantly.
The woman vanished.
The voices were ripped away into silence.
Arzyel collapsed heavily onto the ground, his left eye forcibly closing, his body refusing to respond anymore.
The world became stable again.
Motionless.
Normal.
At least on the surface.
His breathing still trembled.
And within that almost empty calm—
one final whisper slipped through.
So close it felt almost real.
— ...we will return… and next time, you won't be able to close it —
Then nothing.
"Tharion… at the same moment, you were frustrated too, weren't you?" Thalen asked.
A silence followed.
Not long…
but long enough to exist.
Tharion slightly looked away before answering:
"No. Why?"
Thalen tilted his head, as if observing something invisible.
"Just curious…" He paused. "The people we saw… do you know them?"
Tharion answered too quickly:
"No."
Then, almost immediately:
"...Well, I've already talked to one of them before."
Thalen didn't react right away.
His eyes remained fixed on him, calm… too calm.
"And he was angry, wasn't he?"
This time, Tharion hesitated.
Just for a fraction of a second.
"Yeah… I think so."
A faint breath escaped.
Almost imperceptible.
"You could tell, right?" Thalen continued.
Tharion shrugged.
"Maybe."
The silence returned, heavier than before.
Thalen slowly nodded, as if he had just confirmed something Tharion had never said out loud.
"Alright…"
He straightened slightly.
"Then we can go see the knights."
Tharion looked up at the sky… but too slowly, as if he was still thinking about something.
"Yeah… don't worry."
His fingers tightened for a brief instant…
just before he started walking.
Thalen followed him.
Without saying a word.
But this time, he never took his eyes off him.
They walked in silence. The sound of their footsteps echoed through the street, steady… almost mechanical. Tharion walked slightly ahead, as if trying to impose the pace.
Or avoid the questions.
Thalen, meanwhile, watched.
Every movement.
Every hesitation.
At the end of the street, the massive silhouette of the knights' building came into view.
Dark stone.
Motionless banners.
Too quiet.
"You've been here before?" Thalen asked.
Tharion took one second too long to answer.
"Yeah."
A simple lie.
Clean.
Thalen gave a faint smile.
"Oh really?"
No accusation.
Just… a note.
They climbed the stairs.
Barely reaching the entrance, an armored knight stepped in front of them, blocking the way.
"Identification."
His voice was firm.
But his eyes…
were fixed directly on Tharion.
Not on Thalen.
On him.
Tharion stopped.
Another fraction of a second.
Then:
"Tharion. And this is Thalen. We're here to—"
"I know who you are."
The knight didn't move.
His hand remained resting on the hilt of his weapon.
A silence followed.
Thalen slowly turned his head toward Tharion.
Slowly.
Very slowly.
"You don't actually not know them… huh?" he whispered.
Tharion didn't answer.
The knight's gaze hardened.
"You took your time."
The sentence fell heavily.
As if it wasn't supposed to be said in front of Thalen.
As if something had already started without him.
Thalen narrowed his eyes slightly.
One detail had just connected itself.
"Interesting…"
The knight stepped aside.
"Enter. The captain is waiting for you."