Rain tapped softly against the tall windows of the corridor, each drop sliding down the glass like a slow countdown.

  The academy was mostly asleep.

  But not everyone.

  A single lamp burned near the end of the hall, its pale light spilling across the polished floor.

  Adrian stood beneath it, coat draped neatly over his shoulders, reading a thin sheet of paper. His posture was calm—too calm for this hour.

  Footsteps echoed down the corridor.

  Fast. Heavy.

  Adrian didn't look up immediately.

  "Theon," he said, as if greeting someone who had simply arrived late.

  The paper lowered.

  Theon stopped a few steps away. His breathing was uneven, anger sitting sharp behind his eyes.

  "You knew."

  Not a question.

  Adrian folded the paper once and slipped it into his coat pocket.

  "I already told you," he replied evenly.

  "It wasn't my decision."

  Theon let out a harsh laugh.

  "Of course it wasn't."

  His hands clenched slightly.

  "You people always say that."

  Adrian finally looked at him.

  "You also know they chose someone else."

  The words settled like a quiet verdict.

  Theon's jaw tightened.

  "He's still hanging by a thread," Theon snapped. "You know that."

  His voice rose.

  "Because of all this—because of the pressure you people put on him—he nearly killed himself because of you, Adrian Ravenholt."

  The corridor suddenly felt smaller.

  Adrian's expression didn't change.

  "I'm not the one pushing it," he said calmly.

  "They saw him as weaker. I thought people still favored him. I thought this matter wouldn't rise this far... but things rarely go the way we assume."

  Theon stepped forward.

  "And when one pawn breaks—"

  His voice sharpened.

  "—you just move another piece."

  His eyes burned into Adrian.

  "How many pawns are you willing to sacrifice?"

  For a moment, Adrian was silent.

  Then he sighed quietly.

  Not irritated.

  Not defensive.

  Just... tired.

  "I don't have any deal with you," Adrian said.

  His voice stayed level.

  "And for me... this was our last discussion."

  Theon's anger flared.

  "You think walking away makes you clean?"

  Adrian tilted his head slightly.

  "If I pretended that," he said slowly, "I wouldn't still be standing here talking to you. I have many more things to deal with."

  Silence hung between them.

  The rain grew heavier outside.

  Theon dragged a hand through his hair in frustration.

  "You don't understand," he muttered.

  Adrian answered without hesitation.

  "You're right."

  Theon looked up immediately.

  Adrian's expression remained unchanged.

  "I don't."

  A small pause passed.

  "But anger won't change the board, Theon. When you became so emotionally attached to him... did you forget you were the one ready to step away first? What's the point of finishing everything and then coming here to pour your anger on me?"

  His eyes drifted briefly toward the rain-dark window.

  "The people above me making these decisions... they stopped listening a long time ago. And if it's just someone you're looking for to blame, then fine."

  His gaze returned.

  "You want a villain? Find someone higher than me. I didn't put the rope around his neck. They did. And you know it."

  A faint pause.

  "I didn't think the same people in my family who praised him yesterday would forget him this easily."

  Theon stared at him.

  "So you just accept it?"

  Adrian's voice stayed calm.

  "No."

  A beat passed.

  "I just choose my battles carefully."

  Another pause.

  "I'm already fighting another one."

  Theon exhaled sharply, frustration burning through him.

  For a moment it seemed he might say something else.

  Instead he turned away.

  His footsteps echoed as he walked down the corridor.

  Adrian didn't stop him.

  The hallway grew quiet again.

  Only the rain remained.

  Adrian stayed beneath the lamp, hands resting in his coat pockets.

  After a long moment, he murmured softly.

  "Pawns..."

  His eyes drifted toward the window.

  "If only the board were that simple."

  The first time Adrian learned that reaching for something could cost him...

  he was still a child.

  The table was small, scattered with practice medals the instructors had left behind.

  Adrian stood there a moment longer than the others.

  His younger brother had already noticed the silver piece lying near the edge.

  Adrian saw it too.

  He wasn't even sure if he wanted it.

  Still, his hand lifted slightly — slow, uncertain — fingers barely reaching.

  Before he could touch it, a sharp shove struck his shoulder.

  He stumbled half a step back.

  His brother grabbed the medal first.

  "For someone who doesn't even care," the boy muttered, slipping it into his pocket,

  "you always take the things I like. You don't get everything just because you're the big brother."

  Adrian blinked once.

  His hand was still half-raised in the air.

  The boy walked away like nothing had happened.

  Adrian lowered his hand slowly.

  He never mentioned it again.

  The memory shifted.

  A heavy gate slammed shut.

  Young Adrian stood in front of it, blocking the entrance while several smaller figures huddled behind him.

  His siblings.

  Distant noises echoed through the estate. Shouting. Something breaking.

  His little sister tugged nervously at his sleeve.

  "What's happening?" she asked quietly. "Uncle said we shouldn't leave... but everyone sounds scared. Are we safe?"

  Adrian turned sharply toward her, anger covering the fear rising in his own chest.

  "Didn't you hear what they said?"

  His voice was firm.

  "We don't open the gate unless we hear someone we trust."

  She fell silent.

  The younger children clung closer together.

  For a moment Adrian stood there, trying to look braver than he felt.

  Adrian hesitated.

  His hand lifted slowly.

  Just as his fingers were about to touch it—

  he paused.

  For a moment he simply watched the others.

  There was a strange distance between them lately. Not hatred... not yet. Just a quiet wall that had begun growing after their grandfather's death.

  "Where are you going?" one of them asked.

  "I'll just look," Adrian said quietly.

  "I'll bring something back."

  The corridor outside felt colder.

  He slipped through the door before anyone could stop him.

  Even as a child, hesitation had already become part of him.

  The house had taught him that every action could mean something else.

  Still—

  he stepped forward.

  A thin ribbon of wind slipped inside, carrying the scent of wet earth.

  And something metallic.

  Adrian walked further into the courtyard.

  Moonlight spilled across the stone.

  And someone was lying on the ground.

  Adrian froze.

  The old man's silver hair spread across the floor like fallen threads. The head of the Ravenholt family—his grandfather—lay unmoving, blood darkening the ground beneath him.

  For a moment the world became very quiet.

  Then Adrian noticed someone else standing there.

  A boy.

  Not much older than him.

  Dark hair moved slightly in the wind. Her posture was still, watchful—like a creature deciding whether to run or strike.

  His eyes lifted.

  They met Adrian's.

  For a single breath neither moved.

  He hadn't expected a child.

  And Adrian didn't understand what he was seeing—only that something terrible had happened.

  His legs felt frozen.

  He stepped backward slowly.

  Then a voice cut through the night.

  "Adrian."

  The word struck like a whip.

  His father stood in the doorway behind him.

  The man crossed the courtyard quickly, anger already rising across his face.

  "What are you doing outside?"

  Adrian turned, startled.

  "I—"

  His father grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back toward the doorway.

  "Who opened the door?"

  The question wasn't really meant for him.

  His father's eyes flicked once toward the body.

  Once toward the girl standing in the shadows.

  Understanding passed silently between the adults.

  Behind them, figures appeared deeper in the hall.

  Low voices followed.

  "He saw."

  A whisper.

  "Then the boy cannot remain."

  Another voice, colder.

  Adrian didn't understand what they meant, but he felt the tension tightening around him like invisible rope.

  His father stepped in front of him.

  A deliberate movement.

  Shielding him.

  "He saw nothing."

  The words were calm.

  Firm.

  Someone scoffed.

  "He walked outside. Do you expect us to believe that?"

  His father turned slightly.

  "He is a child."

  Silence stretched.

  Then the man leaned closer to Adrian.

  "Look at me."

  Adrian did.

  "You saw nothing tonight."

  His father's grip tightened on his shoulder—not cruel, but heavy.

  "Do you understand?"

  Adrian glanced once more toward the courtyard.

  Toward the old man on the ground.

  Toward the girl still standing beneath the moonlight.

  Toward the blood shining on the stone.

  Then he looked back at his father.

  And nodded.

  For the first time, the boy spoke.

  His voice was quiet.

  "Choose carefully who you plan to save."

  His gaze didn't leave him.

  "And keep your word."

  A pause passed.

  "Because things can always turn the other way."

  The door closed behind them.

  The memory shattered.

  Adrian blinked.

  The corridor returned.

  The lamp flickered softly above him.

  Rain tapped steadily against the glass.

  Adrian looked down at his hand for a moment before slipping it back into his coat pocket.

  Somewhere in the academy, a clock struck one.

  And the hallway returned to silence.

  ---

  The rain had thinned to a quiet mist by the time Theon stepped outside.

  The argument with Adrian still echoed faintly in his mind, but it was nothing compared to the unease crawling up his spine.

  Near the gate, a small cluster had gathered.

  "Did you see her?" a voice called out—tight with worry.

  Theon recognized it immediately. Naomi's mother. She stood beneath the lantern light, shawl clutched tightly, her eyes darting across the empty paths. Beside her, Rayne lingered, smaller than usual, shoulders slumped, exhaustion etched beneath his eyes.

  "I checked near the dormitories," Rayne said softly. "She wasn't there."

  "She never stays out this late," Naomi's mother said, voice trembling. "Never."

  Theon's steps slowed. Something about her worried posture made his chest tighten.

  Ael waited in the doorway when Theon returned. Papers scattered across the table, but Ael's attention was fixed on him.

  "What, boss?" Ael said. "Did she come here?"

  Theon's jaw tightened. "No."

  "...She didn't?" Ael frowned. "Something happened?"

  "Her mother has been looking for her. She hasn't returned home either."

  Ael's eyes widened. "Wait... she's missing?"

  Theon's gaze drifted toward the courtyard. "We need to start looking."

  He stepped outside again, boots pressing softly into the wet stone. Lantern light blurred across the mist, shadows stretching long.

  A woman passed on the opposite path, guiding a small boy by the hand. Perhaps eight, maybe a little older, his head barely reaching her waist. His small fingers clutched the edge of her sleeve, half-drowsy, unaware of the tension around them.

  Theon's eyes caught the boy's curious glance, but the woman never looked at him. She adjusted her shawl, holding the child close.

  "Stay close," she murmured softly. "Don't slip."

  Theon paused, memories surfacing quietly: a house that no longer existed, arguments behind closed doors, doors shutting and opening, years of silence.

  He didn't move, just let them pass. Their forms dissolved slowly into the mist. The weight of the past pressed on him, yet the present demanded his attention. Naomi was still missing.

  Ael noticed the pause. "What is it, boss?"

  "...Nothing," Theon said finally, turning back. But his gaze lingered on the dark outline of the distant town. Somewhere beyond those streets stood a house he had once been saving money to buy back, now gone.

  He started walking again, each step echoing softly against the stones. Beyond the mist, the threads of the night were pulling Naomi into danger—and he wouldn't let it happen.

  "We need to start looking," he murmured, voice low, more to himself than Ael.

  Ael straightened, nodding. "Right."

  The mist still clung to the courtyard when Rayne emerged, shoulders slumped, steps uneven. His mother had returned home after waiting just long enough to see him leave—her eyes full of worry, but she trusted him.

  Rayne glanced over his shoulder, chest tight. "He's going to look for Naomi with... her friend."

  "Rayne," his mother called softly from the doorway, her voice trembling with restrained worry. "Don't worry too much. She'll be safe."

  "I... I don't want you worrying for me anymore," he said quietly, twisting his fingers in the sleeves of his jacket. He didn't look at her, letting the mist swallow him in pale lantern light.

  A few minutes later, Theon and Ael appeared at the far end of the path. Theon's boots echoed softly against the stones, deliberate and unyielding.

  "Rayne," Theon called, voice calm but firm. "We're leaving. You're coming with us."

  Rayne froze, irritation and fear rising in equal measure. His legs wobbled slightly beneath him, catching on the uneven stones. He gripped the railing to steady himself. "I... I don't need your help," he said, his voice sharper than he felt.

  "I'm not here for any hatred—you still can, after that," Theon said evenly. "And I know you're looking for Naomi too. That makes us allies for now. Nothing else matters until she's found."

  Ael stepped closer. "Come on, bro. We need to find Naomi. She's missing."

  Theon's gaze sharpened, cutting through Rayne's hesitation. "You really have gotten weak. Slower than I remember."

  Rayne clenched his fists at his sides, jaw tight, his annoyance flickering in the tightening of his shoulders. He didn't argue; he already knew.

  "I can barely keep up with you sometimes," Theon continued, voice low but scolding. "You used to be faster than this. Now look at you—panting at every turn, dragging your feet. It's pathetic."

  "I... I'll try," Rayne muttered under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck, a faint flare of irritation in his eyes.

  "Good. That's all I'm asking," Theon said, eyes softening slightly. "Don't let weakness slow you down. Naomi won't wait for us."

  They moved again, boots pressing softly into the wet stone. Lantern light blurred across the mist, stretching their shadows long.

  "You know," Theon said after a few steps, voice low but cutting, "you've really let yourself go. What happened to the guy who could outrun me in every drill?"

  Rayne's jaw tightened, eyes fixed ahead. He let out a short, frustrated exhale. "I'm fine," he said politely, though the word felt hollow.

  "Fine?" Theon scoffed, shaking his head. "You're crawling, Rayne. And you call that fine? You'll never catch up to Naomi like this."

  Rayne's fists twitched, frustration bubbling beneath his polite exterior. He muttered under his breath, almost to himself, "I... I can manage. I've done it under pressure before. What could I have done if they never intended to let me go?"

  Theon's gaze sharpened. "Manage? You were faster, stronger. Now? Dragging your feet, exhausted at every turn. Didn't Ravenholt push you hard enough already?"

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Rayne pressed his lips into a thin line, annoyance slipping through the restraint he had maintained. He let a small sigh escape, barely audible. "Leave it. Why are you dragging her into your mess? What if something happens to her? This isn't fair—why are you involving her?"

  "She chose this," Theon said firmly. "She wants to help. She wants to save you, Rayne. It's her choice. Not mine."

  Rayne's jaw clenched, his eyes flashing as he stepped slightly faster, hands flexing at his sides. "You're making her a criminal with your schemes. I'll—fine. I'll start working, find a way myself. But dragging her along like this isn't right."

  Theon's lips quirked slightly—not in amusement, but quiet acknowledgment. "I'm not stopping you from trying your own way. But Naomi is out there. And she's your responsibility too, whether you like it or not. Don't waste time worrying about anything else right now."

  Rayne looked away, fists tightening at his sides, frustration and protective instinct clashing within him. A small tremor ran through his shoulders as the mist swirled around them. The weight of responsibility pressed down, yet neither of them slowed.

  ---

  The mist lingered low over the courtyard as Theon's boots pressed against the wet stone, each step sharp, deliberate. Rayne trudged beside him, shoulders hunched, eyes darting across every shadow.

  "Any idea where she could have gone?" Theon asked, voice low but edged with urgency. His gaze flicked over the empty paths, lanterns casting pale halos in the fog.

  Rayne shook his head slowly. "No... not really. She could have gone anywhere. Or stayed close, maybe."

  Theon's jaw tightened. He pulled out his phone, thumb hovering over Naomi's contact. "I'll try calling her."

  The first ring echoed, swallowed almost immediately by the mist. Then a second. Silence.

  "Still nothing," Theon muttered, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. He tried again, sharper this time, "Come on, Naomi. Pick up."

  Before the third ring could finish, Rayne's hand shot out, stopping him. "Wait... I have her phone."

  Theon whirled, eyes narrowing. "What do you mean, you have her phone?"

  Rayne held it carefully, as if it might explode. "She... forgot it. She left it at home."

  Theon's brow furrowed. "Why didn't you tell me before I nearly flooded the streets calling her?"

  Rayne's jaw tightened, voice calm but edged with restraint. "I... I thought you didn't need to know everything. I'm not here to make her a target of your impatience."

  "I'm not here to make her a target—I'm trying to find her," Theon said, exhaling sharply. "Can't you see that?"

  Rayne's eyes flicked up briefly, concern flickering under his polite expression. "I already see your help."

  Theon's gaze softened for just a fraction, replaced quickly by impatience. "Fine. Then let's see what's on it."

  Tension crackled between them like static in the fog. Before Theon could reach for the phone, Ael stepped between them, hands raised.

  "Alright, alright! Both of you—breathe," Ael said, voice firm but calm. "She's not here yet. Fighting like this won't help. Let's figure it out together."

  Theon's gaze flicked to Ael, then back to Rayne. "We need to see if she tried to contact anyone," he said, exhaling sharply.

  Rayne stepped forward, unlocking the phone. "I know her passcode. She told me once... a long time ago." His fingers trembled slightly as he tapped the screen.

  A single message blinked at them, timestamped just hours before:

  "I need to talk." —Zoe

  Theon's eyes narrowed, lips pressing into a thin line. "Of course. Of course she'd pick this moment to stir trouble. That girl."

  Rayne's grip on the phone tightened. "It's... a message. That's all. Looks like she went to meet her."

  Theon's hand clenched into a fist. "No. This—this annoyance is exactly what Zoe thinks she can pull. I'll have to deal with her after we find Naomi. And I will."

  Rayne's brows furrowed, tension flashing in his polite demeanor. "You... you're calling her now? She's not missing—why interfere?"

  "I'm calling her because I need to know if she's involved!" Theon shot back, voice sharp. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

  "Because you never asked!" Rayne snapped, exasperation breaking through. "I thought you'd figure it out yourself!"

  Theon's jaw clenched. "I don't have time for games, Rayne. Naomi's out there—now stop making excuses!"

  Ael stepped quickly between them again, voice raised just enough to cut through the tension. "Enough! Both of you—breathe. She's not here yet. Keep your heads focused."

  Rayne exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. But this is... this is Zoe's choice, not yours."

  Theon's eyes softened slightly, the edge of his irritation lingering. "Right. For now, Naomi comes first. After that, Zoe can worry about herself. Let's move."

  The two fell silent, each step pressing through the mist. The tension lingered, thick as fog, but their focus sharpened. Naomi was out there somewhere—and they wouldn't let the night swallow her.

  ---

  The cold glow of the street lamps blurred against the mist as Theon gripped his phone, fingers tightening around the device. The fog hung low in the empty street, swallowing the quiet.

  He tapped Zoe's number.

  The line rang once. Twice.

  Then—click.

  "Hello?"

  The voice was calm. Too calm.

  Theon's brow furrowed immediately.

  "Noah...?" His voice hardened. "Where's Zoe?"

  A soft chuckle slipped through the line, controlled and unbothered.

  "Straight to the point, aren't you?" Noah replied smoothly. "Why did you call her?"

  Theon didn't bother with politeness.

  "Is she with Naomi?"

  A pause followed—brief, but deliberate.

  "Why would she be?" Noah said evenly. "She hasn't spoken to her."

  Theon's grip on the phone tightened.

  "That's not what I heard," he said sharply. "Naomi is missing. Zoe was the last person who met her. She asked Naomi to meet her. Why?"

  On the other side of the line, Noah leaned back in his chair, resting an elbow on the armrest. His voice remained calm, almost patient.

  "Missing?" he repeated calmly. "That sounds like your concern, not Zoe's."

  Theon's jaw clenched.

  "Then tell me where Zoe is. She can explain it herself."

  Another quiet pause.

  Noah spoke again, measured and clear.

  "She wanted to warn Naomi. That's it. A simple conversation about the consequences of certain decisions she's making. Nothing personal."

  Theon's frustration slipped into his voice.

  "So you admit they talked."

  "I said she warned her," Noah replied calmly. "Don't twist my words."

  Theon exhaled sharply through his nose.

  "Where is she now?"

  "With us," Noah answered. "She's been here the whole time."

  Theon's voice rose slightly.

  "Then let me speak to her."

  "That won't be necessary," Noah said, still composed. "If you have questions, ask me. And for future reference... it would be better if you didn't call her again."

  Theon scoffed.

  "You don't get to decide that."

  A faint amusement touched Noah's tone.

  "Actually," he said lightly, "when it concerns Zoe, I do."

  Silence stretched between them.

  Then Noah added casually,

  "Also... how exactly did you get her number?"

  Theon ignored the question.

  "Listen," he said firmly, "Naomi is missing. I got the number from her phone. Zoe was the last person who met her. If something happened—"

  "If something happened," Noah interrupted gently, "then perhaps you should start by looking where they spoke."

  Theon's eyes narrowed.

  "What do you mean?"

  "They met outside," Noah said. "Near the courtyard area. If you're searching for clues, that might be a reasonable place to start. Zoe called her around ten."

  Theon hesitated.

  Noah's voice softened slightly, though the control never left it.

  "And Theon... whatever Naomi chose to do afterward has nothing to do with Zoe. She warned her. That's all."

  The line went dead.

  Theon stared at his phone, his jaw tight with restrained anger. His fingers curled around the device as if he might crush it.

  But he didn't.

  Not yet.

  He exhaled slowly and looked ahead into the fog.

  "We should check outside," he muttered. "That's where they talked. Maybe we'll find something."

  ___

  Across town, in a dimly lit room washed in the soft glow of a single lamp, Noah lowered the phone from his ear.

  Nevara, seated nearby, tilted her head slightly.

  "Whose call was that?" she asked.

  Noah slipped the phone back into his pocket without hurry.

  "Nothing important," he said lightly.

  Nevara's eyes narrowed.

  "Sounded important. I heard Zoe's name."

  Noah gave a small shrug and leaned back in his chair.

  "Company business," he said smoothly. "Recharge inquiries."

  He glanced at her with a faint grin.

  "If you're planning to recharge one, you can recharge mine too."

  Nevara watched him for a moment longer. Something about the ease in his tone didn't quite convince her.

  But she let it pass.

  Across the room, Noah's smirk lingered for a second before fading.

  Whatever was unfolding tonight, he intended to keep Zoe far away from it.

  ---

  The courtyard was quieter now.

  Mist drifted slowly between the dim lanterns, the wet stones reflecting pale light. Theon and Rayne moved carefully through the fog, scanning every corner.

  Ael followed a few steps behind, his eyes restless.

  Then Rayne stopped.

  "There—"

  A figure stood near the far archway, barely visible through the mist.

  Naomi.

  She was walking away slowly, shoulders hunched, arms wrapped around herself. Her steps were uneven, as if she had been standing there for a long time.

  "Naomi!" Rayne called.

  She froze.

  For a moment she didn't move.

  Then she turned.

  Her eyes landed on Rayne first.

  Then on Theon.

  Something in her expression shifted instantly—shock, anger, hurt—all tangled together.

  Before she could turn and run, Rayne hurried forward and grabbed her wrist gently.

  "Hey—wait! Where are you going?" he said quickly.

  Theon stepped closer, blocking the path behind her.

  Ael approached as well, his voice softer.

  "Naomi... we've been looking everywhere for you. We were worried."

  Naomi's eyes were red.

  Tears clung to her lashes, but anger burned stronger.

  She looked straight at Theon.

  "You lied to me," she said, her voice shaking. "Didn't you?"

  Theon blinked, confused.

  "What are you talking about?"

  Naomi let out a bitter laugh and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

  "I thought you really wanted to help me," she said. "I thought you cared... because my brother was your old friend."

  Her voice cracked.

  "But you were just hiding your own mistake."

  She pointed at him, her hands trembling.

  "You made a deal with Adrian, didn't you?" she continued. "You betrayed my brother... and then blamed some 'third party' for it."

  Theon stiffened.

  Naomi's voice rose.

  "But you were the one who gave them the locker key."

  Silence swallowed the courtyard.

  "You're the reason my big brother fell," she said through tears. "You're a liar, Theon."

  "I trusted you," Naomi continued quietly. "I thought you were helping me because you cared."

  Then she turned toward Rayne.

  "Brother... Theon betrayed you."

  Rayne looked at her for a moment.

  "Maybe back then his morals mattered more than I did," he said quietly. "And if that's what he believed was right... then that was his choice."

  He gave a small, calm smile.

  "People choose what matters most to them. You can't blame someone for choosing differently."

  Naomi stared at him, confused.

  Rayne gently placed a hand on her shoulder.

  "It's alright now," he said softly. "You don't have to worry about that anymore."

  "They can't hurt me anymore. Not Ravenholt. Not Theon. Not anyone."

  Her voice broke again.

  "But Zoe showed me everything," Naomi said. "Why didn't you do anything?"

  Rayne exhaled slowly.

  "Because it doesn't matter anymore," he replied calmly.

  He glanced down briefly before continuing.

  "Maybe I trusted too easily back then. That's on me."

  He lifted his gaze again, his expression gentle.

  "Maybe I was just a little na?ve."

  A faint smile touched his lips.

  "You can't blame someone forever just because you believed in them once. That would be unfair."

  Theon's eyes widened slightly.

  "Zoe told me the truth," Naomi said, tears sliding down her cheeks. "And all this time... I trusted every lie you told me."

  Her voice hardened.

  "People were right about you. People like you never change."

  Rayne stepped closer quickly.

  "Hey, hey... calm down," he said gently. "What are you even doing out here?"

  He brushed some of the mist-damp hair away from her face.

  "You disappeared like that. Didn't you think Mom and Dad would worry?"

  Naomi looked at him, shaken.

  "What are you doing here?" she asked softly. "You're hurt."

  Rayne frowned slightly.

  "What do you think?" he said. "My sister is missing. How could I stay home?"

  That was enough to break her.

  Naomi's shoulders shook as she began crying again.

  Rayne pulled her into a quick, protective hug.

  "It's okay," he murmured. "You're safe now. Just breathe."

  He gently rubbed her back.

  "We should head home before Mom starts panicking and calls Dad to search the whole city for you."

  Theon stood a few steps away, silent.

  His chest felt tight.

  "I... I really did want to help," he said quietly.

  Naomi immediately pulled away from Rayne and turned toward him again.

  "Shut up," she snapped.

  Her voice trembled with anger.

  "Just shut up, Theon."

  "How many lies are you going to tell?" she continued. "If Zoe hadn't shown me proof, maybe I would've kept believing you."

  Theon didn't answer.

  He couldn't.

  ____

  Across the courtyard, hidden behind the shadow of a stone pillar, someone watched.

  Noah.

  He leaned lightly against the wall, arms folded, observing the scene from a distance.

  "So... she stayed here after all," he murmured quietly.

  His gaze lingered on Naomi.

  "Did she really stay here this long?"

  A faint smirk touched his lips.

  "Maybe Zoe was right to trust her."

  He pushed himself off the wall.

  Then, as quietly as he had appeared, Noah stepped back into the deeper shadows.

  The mist swallowed him completely.

  And he was gone.

  ---

  The night pressed in around him, heavy and still, broken only by the faint rustle of wind through the empty streets. Ruan lingered at the edge of the alley, fingers brushing the pendant at his neck as he traced fragments of memory, trying to map the chaos of that night—his role, what he saw, what he missed.

  Every detail slipped through his grasp, like smoke in the dark.

  A shadow shifted at the corner of his eye.

  He turned sharply.

  Carel stepped forward, moonlight catching her hair, her eyes calm but sharp.

  "Looks like you're still trapped in that confusion," she said quietly. "First... yes. You, me, him. None of us were more than pawns to them."

  Ruan's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

  "Am I not clear?" Carel's gaze hardened. "Your little wandering ends tonight. You can't run forever. I can help you remember what actually happened that night. I was there... with him."

  Her words carried a quiet weight.

  "We were witnesses. He asked us to deal with the aftermath. So, you'd better make this easy... or he won't be gentle. And neither will I."

  A figure shifted beside her, voice smooth, almost amused.

  "Oh, come on. He was mostly silent with you. Rarely even showed anger. But... I won't deny the truth."

  A faint chuckle escaped him.

  "Still... seeing his wrath is unusual."

  Carel shot him a sharp glare.

  "You're still a weirdo. You know nothing about him."

  The figure tilted his head slightly, smirking.

  "So, you're saying he's bad?"

  Carel's expression turned colder.

  "Bad doesn't cover it."

  Her gaze drifted somewhere distant for a moment.

  "For him... I'm just a familiar face."

  A quiet pause followed.

  "He makes people like him."

  "Alive... but trapped. Walking... yet already dead."

  Her eyes returned to Ruan.

  "And now you're caught in it too."

  The figure tilted his head slightly, watching her.

  "Funny thing though... people rarely remember the faces of the ones they kill."

  A small pause.

  "But he remembered yours."

  Carel didn't answer.

  She simply looked away.

  Ruan tightened his grip on the pendant, his voice suddenly sharp.

  "Enough."

  His breath was uneven.

  "Tell me what happened. I don't care about the Herald or their games. I need the truth."

  Carel studied him for a moment before speaking.

  "The old man—Ravenholt's present head—was the one who insisted on joining them. But not everyone in the family agreed."

  She shrugged faintly.

  "Kairos didn't particularly care. To him, people like Ravenholt are just political figures hiding behind their name."

  Her voice lowered slightly.

  "Replaceable ones."

  "But Ravenholt wanted protection. They started feeding information. Desperate people always think alliances will save them."

  A faint shadow crossed her eyes.

  "So, Kairos sent Mee-Toh."

  The alley seemed to grow colder.

  "By the time he arrived, half the work had already begun."

  Carel's voice stayed calm.

  "Those people... poisoned their own family members. Anyone who might expose them. Anyone who might resist."

  Ruan's expression tightened.

  "They spared only the children... or the ones too frightened to understand what was happening. Most of the kids were locked in their rooms while the horror unfolded outside."

  Carel continued quietly.

  "You saw part of their conversation that night. You tried to warn the head of Ravenholt."

  A faint, bitter smile touched her lips.

  "But the Herald had already taken control by then."

  "The fire... the chaos... the deaths."

  "It was all staged as an external attack."

  She glanced toward the dark street.

  "That lie worked well for the new head."

  Silence stretched through the alley.

  "Most people will never know what really happened."

  Her gaze settled on Ruan again.

  "You fought alone that night."

  A pause.

  "But you didn't make it."

  The words landed quietly.

  "And still... surviving after that..."

  Her voice softened slightly.

  "That's remarkable."

  Ruan felt something tighten inside his chest.

  "And... why me?"

  Carel shook her head.

  "I don't know his reasons."

  "Memories. Emotions. Strength."

  A faint sigh escaped her.

  "... Maybe you were a test."

  "A ghost shaped to survive the world he lives in."

  He glanced briefly at the pendant in his hand.

  "Mee-Toh made sure you wouldn't remember affection. Trust. Your family. Nothing that could tie you back."

  Her voice lowered.

  "It's the same trick he always uses."

  "He makes people like him."

  "Dead... even while breathing."

  The figure beside her spoke again, curiosity slipping into his tone.

  "You say no one remembers everything."

  He glanced at Carel.

  "But you seem awfully close to him."

  Carel's eyes darkened.

  "It's his version of mercy."

  A pause.

  "Or guilt."

  The figure raised an eyebrow.

  "You speak like you know."

  Carel held his gaze without flinching.

  "I know I shouldn't."

  Her voice was flat.

  "I was one of the first people he killed."

  The figure let out a soft whistle.

  "Pretty emotional... dying by your best friend's hands."

  Carel's eyes flashed.

  "Don't flatter him."

  The figure chuckled lightly.

  "Then what were you?"

  Carel crossed her arms.

  "That's none of your business."

  A beat passed.

  "And I'm older than you."

  A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

  "Ah. Authority."

  Ruan's hands trembled slightly.

  "So... everything is already decided for me?"

  The figure shrugged.

  "Some of it."

  "But not all."

  He tilted his head thoughtfully.

  "You're still here, after all."

  "Most people don't survive their role in stories like this."

  He looked faintly amused.

  "For the world... you're already dead."

  "But you keep walking."

  "Like the rest of us."

  Carel stepped closer to Ruan.

  "Now you know a piece of the truth."

  Her voice lowered.

  "I can't force the rest of your memories back. Some things only return when something inside you wakes them."

  She straightened.

  "Or you can wander forever in fragments."

  Her eyes studied him carefully.

  "The time to return is approaching."

  Ruan exhaled slowly.

  "I don't belong to any of you."

  His grip tightened around the pendant.

  "If this is a prison..."

  His voice steadied.

  "I'll walk into it myself."

  Carel nodded slightly.

  "That's your choice."

  She glanced toward the street.

  "Kairos doesn't like losing pawns who know too much."

  Her gaze flickered faintly.

  "The moment he chose you... you became part of this."

  "And Kairos believes that if you're free, it only means you've slipped into someone else's control."

  A faint pause.

  "Especially his."

  Ruan frowned.

  "What are you saying? I'm not some toy."

  Carel waved it off.

  "Forget it."

  Her voice turned colder again.

  "He's already finished with the old man."

  "Kairos didn't care before, and he doesn't care now."

  "To them... Ravenholt was just another replaceable piece on the board."

  The figure grinned faintly.

  "You really are stubborn."

  Carel turned and began walking away.

  "Hatred isn't the word I use," she said without looking back.

  "Familiarity is."

  "To him... I'm nothing more than a familiar face."

  Her steps slowed slightly.

  "If he had told us earlier..."

  A quiet breath escaped her.

  "Maybe we could've done something."

  She kept walking.

  "But what could we really have done?"

  Her voice faded into the darkness.

  "He chose this path first."

  "And instead... he dragged us into his grave."

  Silence settled over the alley.

  Carel exhaled quietly.

  "He made us cry more than I could ever explain."

  Her voice was calm, but something heavy lived underneath it.

  "I still wonder why you sound so sympathetic to him... when his own sympathy died long ago."

  The figure was silent for a moment.

  Then he spoke, almost thoughtfully.

  "You know... a friend of mine betrayed me once."

  He leaned against the wall, gaze drifting somewhere distant.

  "The one I gave every opportunity to. The one I wanted beside me."

  A faint breath escaped him.

  "And he left me standing in danger alone."

  Carel didn't react.

  The figure continued.

  "But the strange thing is... the person I knew wouldn't have done that."

  He tapped his fingers lightly against his arm.

  "Maybe time changed him. Maybe he compromised somewhere along the way."

  A small shrug.

  "But I never found a reason to blame him."

  He glanced sideways at Carel.

  A faint smile.

  "Well... maybe I'm just a fool."

  Then, teasing again—

  "After all, you've lived longer than me."

  A beat.

  "Right... authority?"

  The silence settled heavily after Rayne finished speaking.

  Carel didn't look at him.

  For a moment it seemed like she hadn't even heard him.

  Then she exhaled quietly.

  "You're an idiot, Rayne."

  Her tone was flat, almost tired.

  "I'm not here to win some argument."

  She turned slightly toward Ruan.

  "We need to go."

  Her eyes lingered on him for a second.

  "Ruan... what you do now is your choice."

  Ruan hesitated, something catching in his mind.

  "Wait."

  He looked between them.

  "You just said his name—Rayne, right?"

  His grip tightened around the pendant.

  "Isn't Rayne's case still going on?"

  The figure laughed softly.

  "Relax."

  He pushed himself off the wall, brushing invisible dust from his sleeve.

  "Do you really think only one person in the world can have that name?"

  A faint grin appeared.

  "Why can't I be Rayne too?"

  The alley fell quiet again.

  But the silence this time felt colder.

  Carel didn't correct him.

  She simply walked away.

  The night seemed to hold its breath.

  Ruan remained where he stood, fingers tightening around the pendant as his heart thundered in his chest.

  For the first time, the fragments of his past felt close enough to touch.

  And far more dangerous than he had ever imagined.

  ---

  The dormitory slept under a thin blanket of silence.

  Only the faint ticking of the wall clock dared to move.

  Zoe's eyes opened.

  She had been staring at the ceiling for what felt like hours, thoughts circling endlessly like restless birds. The darkness pressed gently around the room, broken only by the dim orange glow of the clock beside the door.

  12:45.

  Zoe exhaled slowly.

  "Of course..." she murmured to herself.

  Sleep wasn't coming tonight.

  She pushed the blanket aside and quietly sat up. The cold floor kissed her feet as she stood. Without turning on the light, she reached for her coat hanging by the chair and slipped it on, fingers moving with quiet purpose.

  If she waited until morning... it might already be too late.

  The hallway outside was dim, the lamps casting long sleepy shadows along the walls.

  As Zoe stepped into the corridor, she froze for a moment.

  Someone was already there.

  Nevara stood near the kitchen counter, holding a glass of water, the light above the sink illuminating her silver hair. She took a slow sip before noticing Zoe standing there in her coat.

  Nevara raised a brow slightly.

  "You look ready for something," she said calmly.

  Her eyes drifted briefly toward the clock on the wall.

  "Isn't it a little late for adventures?"

  Zoe rubbed the back of her neck, half embarrassed, half determined.

  "It's... important."

  For a moment Nevara simply watched her.

  Then she nodded once, finishing the water in her glass.

  "I figured."

  She set the glass down with a quiet click.

  "Noah's asleep, I think." Her voice softened slightly. "So I guess I'll be your partner tonight."

  Zoe blinked.

  "You don't have to."

  Nevara stepped closer, pulling her own jacket from the back of a chair.

  "I know."

  She slipped it on with an easy motion.

  "But some people do things not because they have to."

  Her eyes softened just a little.

  "They do it because they don't want someone walking into trouble alone."

  Zoe opened her mouth to protest again... then closed it.

  A small, grateful smile tugged at her lips.

  "Alright," she said quietly.

  The two of them moved toward the door.

  Zoe reached for the handle—

  —and it suddenly opened.

  Noah stood on the other side.

  His hair looked like he had fought a storm and lost. One sleeve of his shirt was half rolled up, the other wasn't. His expression carried the sleepy annoyance of someone who absolutely hadn't been asleep at all.

  He leaned against the doorframe.

  "Took you long enough."

  Zoe stared at him.

  "You weren't sleeping?"

  Noah scoffed.

  "Please."

  He crossed his arms lazily.

  "You think I didn't notice you pacing your room for the last hour? Left. Right. Left. Right."

  Nevara gave him a sideways glance.

  "So you were spying."

  "Monitoring," Noah corrected.

  Then he shrugged.

  "Mostly I was waiting for when you'd finally decide it was time."

  Zoe couldn't help it.

  She smiled.

  It wasn't a big smile—just a small one that carried relief.

  For a moment the tension in her shoulders eased.

  But it didn't last long.

  Her fingers slowly curled against her coat sleeve.

  She bit her lip.

  "We have to find another way," she said quietly.

  Noah's expression sharpened immediately.

  Zoe looked down at the floor for a second before meeting their eyes again.

  "Because if we don't..."

  Her voice dropped slightly.

  "I might have to use those pieces of evidence."

  Nevara's gaze darkened.

  Noah straightened from the doorframe.

  Zoe swallowed.

  "And if I use them—"

  Her hands tightened.

  "—with Naomi and Theon involved..."

  She hesitated.

  "...Rayne will be the one who ends up in serious trouble, even if we manage to save Mira's dad."

  Silence spread between the three of them.

  The night outside felt heavier now.

  Somewhere far away, a dog barked once before the city returned to sleep again.

  Noah ran a hand through his already chaotic hair.

  "...Alright," he muttered.

  His voice had lost its laziness.

  "So what exactly are we breaking into tonight?"

  Nevara folded her arms, already preparing herself.

  Zoe glanced toward the dark street outside the window.

  Her eyes had that familiar stubborn fire again.

  "The archives."

  A beat passed.

  Noah blinked.

  "...You couldn't pick somewhere normal?"

  He sighed.

  "At this hour people watch movies, eat junk food... play games."

  He rubbed his face.

  "But no."

  "We're breaking into archives."

  But Zoe was already stepping outside.

  And both of them followed.

  Because some nights didn't allow sleep.

  Some nights only offered truth—

  and the courage to chase it.

  ---

  Night had settled deep over the academy grounds.

  The mist that once clung to the courtyard had begun drifting toward the outer paths, sliding slowly between the bare trees like quiet ghosts. The lanterns along the stone walkway flickered faintly, their light dim against the wide stretch of dark sky.

  Zoe walked ahead of the others.

  Her pace wasn't hurried, but it wasn't aimless either. There was a quiet certainty in the way she moved—as if the night itself had whispered a direction only she could hear.

  Behind her walked Nevara, quiet but attentive, her eyes gently scanning the shadows rather than hunting them.

  And a few steps farther back, Noah followed with his usual relaxed posture, hands tucked into his coat pockets. Yet his gaze never stopped observing the world around them.

  They reached the far end of the training grounds where the old archway opened toward the outer paths.

  A faint figure sat on the low stone wall nearby.

  Ruan.

  He looked half-asleep, one elbow resting on his knee, his head drooping forward slightly. The cold air had clearly dragged him out of sleep more than once.

  As footsteps approached, he stirred.

  Ruan rubbed his eyes slowly, blinking against the lantern light.

  When he realized who stood there, he straightened a little.

  "What're you all doing here?" he asked, voice still thick with sleep.

  Zoe stopped a few steps in front of him.

  For a moment she didn't answer.

  Her eyes scanned the quiet field beyond the archway, the empty training grounds, the distant rooftops barely visible through the mist.

  Then she spoke.

  "I have only this night," Zoe said calmly.

  Her voice carried the weight of a quiet decision.

  "And maybe it's better if we try something."

  Ruan watched her more closely now.

  Zoe's gaze shifted back to him.

  "You can stay," she added.

  Silence hung for a second.

  Ruan studied her face as if trying to measure what exactly she meant.

  Then he nodded once.

  "Sure," he said simply.

  "I'm with you."

  Nevara let out a small breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

  "Well... that was easier than I expected," she said softly, a small smile appearing. "I thought we'd have to convince you."

  Ruan gave a tired shrug.

  "You all look too serious to argue with."

  Noah tilted his head slightly, watching the exchange.

  A faint smile touched the corner of his lips.

  "Well," he said lightly, stepping forward. "That was easy."

  Ruan glanced at him.

  "You expected something else?"

  Noah shrugged lazily.

  "People usually ask questions before walking into the dark."

  Zoe turned her head slightly.

  "Would it change anything if he did?"

  Noah met her gaze.

  For a moment, the mist drifting between them felt almost like a curtain.

  Then Noah chuckled softly.

  "Not really."

  Ruan crossed his arms, still looking between them.

  "Should I be worried?" he asked.

  Nevara tilted her head, studying him for a moment.

  "Only a little," she said gently. "If Zoe drags us out in the middle of the night, it usually means something interesting is about to happen."

  Ruan blinked.

  "That doesn't sound very reassuring."

  Nevara laughed quietly.

  "It's better than being bored."

  Zoe finally stepped past them, walking toward the open training field.

  The lantern light faded behind her, leaving only the pale moon reflecting off the damp ground.

  She stopped at the center of the empty space.

  For a moment she simply looked upward.

  Clouds drifted slowly across the moon.

  When she finally spoke again, her voice was quieter.

  "This place has too many eyes... even at night."

  She paused, glancing sideways at Ruan.

  "Unless you've been talking with ghosts again."

  Ruan rubbed the back of his neck.

  "Maybe," he said casually. "Who knows."

  Zoe gave him a long stare.

  Nevara smiled faintly.

  "If there are ghosts here," she said softly, "I hope they're friendly ones."

  Ruan and Nevara approached slowly.

  Noah followed last, still wearing that small, thoughtful smile.

  Zoe lowered her gaze.

  "But at night," she continued, "I thought people stop paying attention."

  Noah chuckled softly again.

  "Not all of them."

  Zoe glanced over her shoulder.

  Their eyes met briefly.

  Something unspoken passed between them—something sharp, almost like two players acknowledging the same hidden board.

  Nevara noticed the look between them.

  Her brows knit slightly.

  "You two are being suspicious again," she said lightly. "Should the rest of us be concerned?"

  Noah only smiled.

  Zoe looked forward again.

  "That's why tonight works."

  Ruan rubbed the back of his neck.

  "You're still not telling us what we're doing."

  Zoe crouched slightly and brushed her fingers across the damp ground, tracing a faint line through the thin layer of dust and moisture.

  A simple mark.

  A starting point.

  Nevara watched the line carefully.

  "That looks very mysterious," she said quietly. "Should I be excited or nervous for something interesting?"

  Zoe stood again, brushing the dust from her fingers.

  "Testing something," she said.

  Ruan frowned.

  "Testing what?"

  Zoe looked at each of them for a brief moment.

  The wind stirred lightly across the empty field.

  Then she answered.

  "Truth."

  Ruan let out a quiet breath.

  "Truth?" he muttered. "That's a big thing to test at midnight."

  Nevara blinked.

  "Truth?" she repeated softly. "That sounds... dangerous."

  Behind Zoe, Noah's smile widened just a little.

  Nevara noticed it immediately.

  Her expression softened, curiosity flickering in her eyes.

  "Noah," she said gently, "why do you look like you already know the answer?"

  Noah only lifted his shoulders slightly.

  "Oh," he said lightly, "I'm just enjoying the night."

  Nevara looked back toward Zoe.

  The quiet field... the drifting mist... the strange line drawn in the dirt.

  And suddenly the night didn't feel quiet anymore.

  It felt like the first move of something much larger had just been placed on the board.

  ---

  The mist had thickened along the lower path outside the academy walls.

  The lanterns behind them were now distant dots of amber light, barely visible through the drifting fog. The city beyond lay quiet, its streets mostly empty at this hour, the buildings standing like silent witnesses under the pale moon.

  Their footsteps echoed softly on the damp stone road.

  For a while, no one spoke.

  The quiet stretched just long enough to feel deliberate.

  Then Noah broke it.

  He glanced sideways at Zoe, his voice casual, almost lazy.

  "So," he said, "where are we going tonight?"

  Zoe kept walking.

  Her hands were tucked into the sleeves of her coat, her gaze fixed ahead where the road slowly curved toward the darker parts of the city.

  "We should at least once visit," she said calmly.

  She paused for half a breath.

  "Bernard Halders."

  The name drifted into the fog between them.

  Ruan stopped walking for a second.

  "Wait," he said, blinking. "You mean that Bernard Halders?"

  Zoe didn't turn back.

  "Yes."

  Ruan quickened his steps to catch up.

  "Isn't his hearing tomorrow?" he asked.

  "Morning," Zoe replied.

  "Not many hours left."

  Nevara gave a small nod.

  "Very closed," she said gently. "The guards there are... not very friendly."

  Noah's faint smile returned.

  "Well," he said lightly, "that only makes it more tempting."

  Zoe glanced briefly at him.

  "You're enjoying this too much."

  "I enjoy puzzles," Noah replied calmly.

  Ruan looked between them, slightly confused.

  "Am I missing something?" he asked.

  Nevara stepped a little closer beside Zoe, her voice soft but thoughtful.

  "The Bernard Halders archives hold records most people never read," she said. "Old investigations... sealed reports... forgotten cases."

  She looked toward Zoe.

  "You're looking for something there."

  Zoe didn't deny it.

  The wind shifted again, rustling faintly through the trees beyond the training field.

  "Truth leaves footprints," Zoe said quietly.

  "But sometimes they're buried."

  Noah chuckled softly.

  "And you think the archives still remember them."

  Nevara's expression softened slightly.

  "That's why you want to meet him tonight," she said quietly.

  Zoe nodded once.

  "If the hearing starts," she said, "the story will already be decided."

  Noah hummed thoughtfully behind them.

  "Ah," he said. "So this is a farewell visit."

  Zoe glanced back at him.

  "No."

  Her voice was calm.

  "I want to hear his version before they bury it. I don't want to carry the guilt of not trying."

  Noah smirked faintly.

  "Brave words."

  Ruan shot him a look.

  "You're coming too."

  "Oh, absolutely," Noah said. "I wouldn't miss this."

  The road dipped downward as they moved deeper into the sleeping district.

  Somewhere far off, a bell rang once—slow and hollow in the night air.

  Ruan shoved his hands into his pockets.

  "You think he'll talk?" he asked.

  Zoe answered without hesitation.

  "He might."

  Noah's lips curved slightly.

  "And if he doesn't?"

  Zoe's gaze lifted toward the dark silhouette of the prison tower in the distance.

  "Then I'll still know something."

  Nevara walked beside her quietly for a moment.

  "About what?" she asked gently.

  Zoe's voice was softer now.

  "About whether he believes the story they wrote for him."

  Ruan frowned slightly.

  "That's... a strange thing to check."

  Noah chuckled quietly.

  "Not really when Zoe's the one investigating."

  They all glanced at him.

  He walked with the same relaxed posture, eyes half-lidded as if the cold night air amused him.

  "People behave differently when they're lying," he said.

  "And even more differently when they've accepted the lie."

  Nevara tilted her head slightly.

  "You think Bernard already knows he's the scapegoat?"

  Noah shrugged lightly.

  "Most people do," he said.

  "Especially when they're the ones decorating their own grave."

  Zoe slowed her steps slightly.

  The prison tower was clearer now, rising above the surrounding buildings like a dark needle against the sky.

  Ruan followed her gaze.

  "You're really serious about this," he muttered.

  Zoe didn't answer immediately.

  The wind moved faintly through the narrow street, stirring loose papers near the curb.

  "Tomorrow," she said finally, "they'll close the case."

  Her eyes remained on the tower.

  "And everyone will pretend it makes sense."

  Nevara looked up at the tower, her expression quiet.

  "You don't think it does."

  Zoe shook her head once.

  "No."

  Nevara folded her arms slightly against the cold.

  "I hope he hasn't already given up," she murmured.

  A moment passed.

  Then Noah spoke again, his tone almost amused.

  "You know," he said lightly, "this is the part of the story where most people would stay home."

  Ruan glanced at him.

  "What part?"

  Noah gestured lazily toward the looming prison ahead.

  "The part where you walk straight toward a system that already decided the ending."

  Nevara looked at him calmly.

  "And what part do you think this is?"

  Noah smiled faintly.

  "The part where someone decides whether to accept that ending."

  Zoe didn't look back at him.

  But the corner of her mouth moved slightly.

  Ahead of them, the iron gates of the prison stood silent under the moonlight.

  And somewhere inside those walls, Bernard Halders was waiting for a trial that had likely been decided long before the night began.