Three days later, Kaien walked beside Elias through the ruins of the outer district.
He hadn't agreed to follow the man. He just... didn't walk away.
Elias didn't ask questions. Didn't try to pry into Kaien's past. He let silence speak, and Kaien found he didn't mind it. The world was too loud with lies anyway.
They passed through charred archways and broken gates. Survivors stared from doorways, eyes hollow, distrustful. Some recognized Elias and whispered. Others turned away.
At the edge of a ruined plaza, Elias stopped. "We're close."
Kaien glanced at him. "Close to what?"
Elias turned toward a collapsed church, half-swallowed by vines and soot. "The others."
Kaien's brow furrowed. "Others?"
"The ones who still believe truth matters. Who aren't afraid of what it costs."
Kaien felt the shadow ripple inside him, uncertain.
Then he saw them. Figures moving through the church's ruins. A girl with red hair flickering like flame. A boy sharpening a spear made of light. A silent figure with frost on their cloak.
They stopped as Elias approached. Eyes on Kaien.
Elias raised a hand. "This is Kaien."
No titles. No labels. Just a name. Like it mattered.
"He walks with the shadow," Elias continued, "but not because he chose to."
The red-haired girl—Iria—crossed her arms. "And if it chooses him back?"
Kaien met her gaze. "Then it better be ready to bleed."
A pause. Then Elias smiled.
"Welcome to the truth, Kaien."
And for the first time, the shadow didn't stir.
It settled.
As if it, too, was listening.