The Watcher had vanished.

  One moment it stood in the dimly lit room, its hollow presence bending reality around it—

  And the next, it was simply gone. Darius stared at the empty space where it had stood, his breath slow and measured.

  "You were not meant to remain."

  That was what it had said. He clenched his fists. Then why had he? Behind him, Ais shifted, arms crossed, her expression unreadable. "Are you going to say it?" she murmured. Darius exhaled sharply. "Say what?"

  She met his gaze.

  "That we're still here. That the Thanatarchy hesitated. That even their Watchers don't know why."

  Darius didn't answer. Because he didn't need to. They both knew. Something was wrong. And now, they had only one choice— Find the fw. Or be erased before they ever understood what it was.

  They left the house before dawn.

  The town was still. Not sleeping. Not at rest. Just... existing. Like a thought someone had written down and forgotten to erase. They moved quickly, keeping to the shadows, avoiding open streets. If the Thanatarchy was already watching again, they would know soon enough.

  Darius scanned the vilge carefully. "Where do we start?"

  Ais didn't hesitate. "Where the cracks first showed."

  Darius frowned. "The Inquisition?"

  "No." Ais's voice was low. "Alden."

  The name hit like a bde to the chest.

  Darius hadn't heard it spoken aloud since the whispers in the wind had led him here. And now, it was their only lead. Alden had been erased with Solmaria. And yet, something of him had remained. If they could find why— Then maybe they could understand why they still existed, too.

  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  The trail was faint.

  A name spoken in fragments, lingering like an echo in a world that had tried to erase it.

  Ais led them north, through rolling fields and forgotten roads.

  She moved fast, never pausing, never hesitating—as if she had followed trails like this before.

  Darius watched her carefully as they traveled.

  "How do you know where to look?" he finally asked.

  Ais didn't turn. "I don't." Darius frowned. Ais continued. "But I know how to feel when something doesn't belong." Darius processed that in silence. She had done this before. She had followed other forgotten names, other erased memories.

  And she had survived.

  Which meant—he was not the first.

  That thought settled uneasily in his chest.

  "How long have you been running?" he murmured.

  Ais slowed, just for a moment. Then—a small, hollow smile. "Long enough to know that running never works."

  They reached the edge of a ruined temple by nightfall.

  The stones were ancient, covered in vines, cracked with time.

  It looked like it had been abandoned for centuries.

  But Darius knew better. This pce had not existed yesterday. It had been written into the world as a repcement for something else. Ais knelt by one of the pilrs, brushing her fingers against the stone. "Something was taken from here," she murmured. Darius stepped closer. "Alden?" She nodded.

  His pulse quickened.

  Then they were close.

  But before he could speak, Ais tensed. Her head snapped up. Darius felt it too. A ripple in the air. A distortion in reality. A presence. Something was here.

  Watching.

  Waiting.

  And then— A voice, barely more than a breath.

  "You should not have found this pce."