I walked through the ruined streets of Dordwood, and every step echoed inside me — an empty, dull thud.

  Snow crunched under my boot.

  I bent down… and saw a dead man.

  His eyes were open, glassy.

  His fingers were clenched, as if he had tried to cling to life until the very end.

  Nearby lay the corpse of a demon — charred, twisted, wings contorted.

  And still, I felt nothing.

  No pity.

  No anger.

  No sorrow.

  Emptiness.

  As if everything inside me had burned out together with the storm.

  I looked at the human body the same way I would look at a stone.

  And that was terrifying…

  But only to the mind.

  Not to the heart — the heart was silent.

  — Zenhald?

  I turned around.

  Seteya stood two steps away.

  Hands on her hips, face tense.

  Her eyes scanned my face… then stopped on my pupils.

  She exhaled quietly.

  — They’re still… red?

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  I said nothing.

  Just looked at her.

  Seteya stepped closer, almost right up to me — for the first time not as a trainer, not as a fighter.

  — What’s wrong with you?

  — Where are your emotions?

  — Right now you’re… empty. And that’s scarier than yesterday’s storm.

  I wanted to say something…

  But my tongue wouldn’t move.

  There was a black void in my chest.

  I remembered the Academy.

  Rooms that smelled of paper and magic.

  My parents. Their voices.

  The village. The house. Dreams. Laughter.

  And suddenly — it was as if something clicked inside.

  I felt warmth.

  Weak, but alive.

  Like a spark in ash.

  The fire inside me… ignited.

  The world began to regain color:

  shades appeared in the gray sky,

  I saw the texture of stone in the ruined houses,

  the scent of snow returned to the air.

  And in the next moment I realized:

  my eyes were no longer red.

  — …Thank you, — I breathed.

  For the first time in a long while, I smiled — not wide, but honest.

  Seteya froze for a second.

  Then, to hide her reaction, she looked away and snorted:

  — You’re alive — that’s enough. Don’t think I was worried about you.

  She left, but her steps were quick — nervous.

  I walked back toward the camp.

  People were gathering the wounded, wolves were hauling blocks of construction ice, elves were healing whoever they could.

  And then I heard voices behind one of the tents.

  — Do you think… Zenhald is dangerous? — someone asked quietly. — Did you see what he did yesterday…

  — Are you out of your mind? — Finn snapped. — We know him! He—

  He stopped.

  As if he realized something.

  Tara continued:

  — We’ve known him for years…

  but if you really think about it — we don’t actually know anything about him.

  Reinar sighed:

  — But yesterday… that wasn’t… human.

  Silence.

  Then a voice I would recognize out of a thousand.

  Elinia.

  Calm, cold, but firm:

  — He is still our comrade.

  And more importantly — our friend.

  Even if he’s stronger than all of us combined.

  That changes nothing.

  — Elinia… — Finn whispered.

  I stepped forward and out of the shadows.

  — Thank you.

  They flinched.

  Kyren almost drew his sword.

  — Zen?! How long have you been standing there?!

  — Long enough, — I smirked.

  Finn slapped me on the back.

  — You’re normal again! Yesterday… well, you get it… we thought you were about to become some kind of dark god of winter.

  — Yeah, you looked like— — Siren squinted, — —you could destroy a city with a single breath.

  — And still, you’re ours, — Miella said.

  Elinia only nodded.

  But her long, searching gaze said more than words ever could.

  We laughed quietly — not loudly.

  Too many had died yesterday.

  But we laughed.

  Then someone said:

  — Let’s sleep. There’s a march south ahead…

  And we lay down.

  In one tent, like before.

  As if the world, for just a moment, became familiar again.

  I lay there and closed my eyes.

  And for the first time in a day…

  I felt alive.