Kael sat beside the last ember of a fire that had long since died, flicking cooled ash from his fingertips. The sky above was pale with the weight of morning, yet colorless—as if the world itself hadn't decided what kind of day it would be.
Around him, silence.
Not even the System stirred. For the first time in days, it remained dormant. No quests. No guidance. Only breath.
Only thought.
He looked at his hands. Not for injuries—there were plenty—but as if expecting them to vanish. To tell him this journey was some long dream. That Elijah's death, the whisper in the altar, the name he still couldn't say—all of it would be gone with one blink.
It wasn't.
His body ached. His thoughts churned. And somewhere beneath it all… he felt watched.
Not in danger.
Just… seen.
A presence at the edge of perception.
---
He wandered beyond the valley, boots brushing dust into the wind. No path guided him now. No destination felt right. But there, to the north, the cliffs shimmered with pale light—veins of crystal glowing faintly beneath fractured stone.
It reminded him of something. Of someone.
He didn't know who.
---
By midday, he found the cave.
A narrow, uneven fissure beneath a wind-chiseled ridge. It pulsed faintly with warmth. Familiar, yet untouched.
Inside: markings scorched into obsidian. A symbol he'd never seen but somehow understood.
**A closed hand wrapped in flame.**
The air tasted different here—metallic, like memory.
And for the briefest instant, when he touched the stone, a voice murmured:
> "You'll know him when it matters. You always do."
Kael jolted. The System remained silent. The cave, empty. But he knew the words hadn't come from nowhere.
He stayed the night there. Listening.
And in the dark… he dreamed of laughter.
Not his.