The walk back began in a silence deeper than any they had known. It was not the silence of the bog, or the preserved quiet of Lythe, or the hollow stillness of the obsidian plain. This was the silence after the last note of a symphony has faded, leaving the audience breathless in the dark. The air itself felt different—lighter, yet charged with a new and fragile potential. The oppressive, watching presence was gone. For the first time since they had set foot on the Aetherium Road, they were truly alone.
The scar in the world hung behind them, a closed eye against the sky. It was no longer a weeping wound, but a seam, poorly mended. A reminder.
