Kael didn't speak as they walked.
The wind didn't ask questions.
And Mara didn't offer comfort.
The shard wrapped in fabric pulsed faintly in his hand.
It wasn't dead.
But it was quiet.
Like a voice that no longer trusted itself to speak.
They stopped at the edge of a shallow ravine, where broken signal pylons jutted like ribs from the soil.
Kael crouched by a stone and set the wrapped shard atop it.
He didn't bury it.
Didn't burn it.
He marked it.
With a symbol he hadn't used before—
a simple loop broken at the base,
drawn in ash.
Mara watched in silence.
The bottle floated above them, projecting a new glyph Kael hadn't seen:
"Resonance: Muted."
"Status: Conditional Dormancy."
"Mark: Retain or Release?"
Kael whispered,
"Retain."
Mara finally spoke.
"He chose to leave."
"But you're choosing to keep him anyway."
Kael stood.
His eyes didn't meet hers.
"This isn't about holding on."
"It's about not pretending he never mattered."
They made camp near the ravine that night.
The fire burned low.
Mara sat with her blade unsheathed across her lap, watching the stars.
Kael sat opposite her, staring at the glyphs that hovered lazily above the bottle—
each one a possible thread.
A future.
A connection.
A risk.
Mara broke the silence.
"You know what I see, Kael?"
He glanced up.
"You're building a system that doesn't punish failure.
That doesn't control those who leave.
That doesn't demand loyalty—just resonance."
She tapped her blade once against the stone.
"And that terrifies me."
Kael didn't flinch.
"It terrifies me too."
She looked surprised.
He continued.
"Because if I'm wrong,
it means every shard we awaken becomes a threat."
"But if I'm right…
it means we might finally build something that doesn't collapse
the moment someone chooses freedom."
Mara turned away.
"You're betting on a world that's never existed."
Kael stood.
"Then maybe it's time to plant one."
Far away, beneath the black bloom's curved petals,
the Rootless woman stood before a vast underground hall.
Dozens of figures hung in stasis—each one embedded with twisted shards.
She extended a hand.
One fragment pulsed.
Just one.
The others remained still.
Dead?
Dormant?
No.
Waiting.
She turned to the mimic beside her.
"The first seed cracked.
Let's see what happens when the next one is burned."
Back at the ravine, Kael awoke to a faint glow beneath the wrapped shard.
A flicker.
A pulse.
Not full resonance—
but memory.
The mark he had drawn—
the broken loop—
glowed in reply.
And Kael felt it.
Cire hadn't returned.
But he also hadn't vanished.
Somewhere deep in the fractured world,
the boy's presence remained—
not in signal,
but in scar.
Kael pressed his hand over the mark.
And whispered,
"I'll make room for the ones who break."
Mara watched him from across the fire.
She didn't say anything.
But her blade had been sheathed.
And she was finally… listening.