Kael stood motionless, his gaze fixed on the spot where the strange, powerful creature had vanished. Now, mist slowly seeped through the shattered gap in the wall and spilled into the city.

  Was that me? he wondered, his fingers tightening around the broken hilt of his sword.

  He lifted his eyes to the moon, high above, lost in thought about what had just happened.

  Because of this, he did not notice Astra watching him, concern and something close to fear flickering in her eyes. She said nothing.

  Eventually, Kael turned.

  He saw the people.

  Dozens of them were frozen in place, their faces caught in different expressions. Only one thing was certain: none of those expressions would ever change again.

  Why did this happen?

  His gaze drifted upward uncertainly. Was it because of me?

  Then his eyes widened.

  Without saying a word to Astra, he ran, ignoring her voice calling after him in confusion. He raced through dark alleys, past countless bodies lying in unnatural peace as if trapped in an endless sleep. He didn’t look at them. His eyes stayed fixed ahead.

  Just as he left the city, a sharp, unfamiliar pain flared suddenly in his right arm, but Kael couldn’t place it.

  He didn’t stop.

  He kept running through the fields, mud and dirt splattering his clothes.

  Please. Please.

  That was the only thought he had as he ran.

  He slowed only when the familiar house came into view beyond the field.

  In the moonlight, stripped of decay, it resembled the vision Kael had seen in the labyrinth.

  He shook his head and hurried toward the door, but stopped abruptly when he saw what awaited him.

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  Two bodies lay before him:

  One was a girl holding her little brother and smiling softly.

  The boy clutched a small stick, his wide eyes still fixed on it.

  Elia, who had always protected her brother and endured loss, violence, and silence, yet never stopped smiling.

  And Noah, who dreamed of becoming a strong enough swordsman to protect her from everything.

  They lay there.

  Though they would never rise again, they looked as if they had left this world without regret.

  Kael’s hand trembled; his expression was hollow with disbelief.

  He tried to feel grief, but all he felt was rage.

  He shut his eyes, trying to steady himself. Instead, his entire body tensed.

  With a furious cry, he lunged forward and grabbed the table where the four of them had first sat together. He hurled it to the ground, and it splintered on impact.

  Kael stood there, breathing hard with his eyes closed, and then he shouted again. He smashed cabinets and tore apart furniture, reducing the small house to ruin.

  Finally, he stood in the center of the wreckage, his chest heaving as he stared upward into nothing with hopeless eyes.

  "Why?" he screamed. "Why them? They were innocent! Why them and not me?!"

  His voice broke as he collapsed to the floor and pressed his forehead against the ground.

  "Why did I save them if they were only going to die anyway?" he whispered. The question was directed at something he hoped might answer it.

  But the only answer was silence.

  And the silence remained.

  ...

  The next day, Astra stepped out of the fields into the clearing where the house stood.

  Her expression gave nothing away, but her posture was tense.

  After seeing the wrecked interior, she hurried around the house, worry sharpening her movements, until she saw Kael.

  He sat before two small mounds of earth, his white hair shifting softly in the wind.

  Astra exhaled and walked over to him, stopping beside him.

  He did not look at her. His gaze remained fixed on the graves.

  She followed his gaze.

  On one mound, the broken hilt of a sword rested, its shattered blade buried in the soil.

  On another lay a single gold-glowing flower beneath the morning sun.

  Understanding settled over her. She closed her eyes, offering a quiet farewell.

  "You once told me that the words and the mysteries behind them were wounds that needed to be closed."

  Astra’s eyes opened in surprise. She turned to Kael, who still stared ahead with a cold expression.

  His hand tightened until it trembled.

  "They're more than that," he said. "They're the source of the suffering that clings to people. They’re scars carved into this beautiful world—scars that refuse to fade.”

  Finally, he looked up at her, his eyes hardened with something new.

  "I won't rest until those scars are gone," he said.

  "I swear it."

  Kael's vow lingered in the quiet air, heavier than any blade he had ever carried.

  The wind moved through the grass and brushed over the two small graves, as if the world itself refused to forget them.

  Astra stood beside him a moment longer, her gaze not on the mounds of earth but on him. On how his shoulders no longer trembled and how something inside him had hardened into resolve.

  Without another word, Kael rose.

  The broken sword hilt stayed behind, buried between memory and promise.

  When he stepped forward, Astra followed. Not because the path was clear, but because turning back was no longer an option.