The sky above stretched in muted grays, soft clouds dragging across the horizon as Michi, Lior, Kael, Junia, and Tieu walked the dirt road. Their boots pressed into the dust, each step steady but carrying the weight of everything that had just ended.
The road was quiet, save for the crunch of gravel beneath their feet. None of them had spoken much until Lior finally broke the silence.
"So," Lior said, pushing his hand through his hair. "We finally know the base of the Auran Covenant… Ahrimvar." His voice held that edge of tension that always came when the Covenant's name was spoken aloud.
Junia's expression hardened as she adjusted her weapon at her side. "Yes, but it doesn't help us much. They've always moved without leaving vital points behind. Like shadows, leaving nothing to strike."
Tieu pulled her hood tighter against the wind. "They don't want us to know. They just want to stop Michi." Her voice lowered as her eyes flickered toward him. "For some reason."
Kael gave a humorless laugh. "Reason? Maybe it's not so simple. Maybe they're tied to the Being itself. Maybe all of this… is bigger than what we're seeing."
Michi walked quietly at their center, his expression unreadable. He let their voices fill the air, each word echoing against his own heavy silence. His fingers clenched and unclenched by his sides, as though he were restraining words he wasn't ready to say.
Junia tilted her head toward him. "By the way, Michi… we're close to Prussaria. Should we go there?"
Michi slowed, glancing up toward the sky before answering. His voice was low. "If we can… then sure. I… I have some things to do."
Kael narrowed his eyes with curiosity. "Things? Like what? Meeting with someone?"
Michi exhaled slowly. "Depends. But before anything else… I need to pay respect to someone's grave."
Lior, walking closest to him, gave a short nod. His tone softened, understanding without needing explanation. "…Tadashi. Okay. Then let's go."
Tieu quietly slipped off her travel bag and pulled something out. A simple black hoody. She handed it to Michi without a word. He accepted it, pulling it on and tightening the hood over his head.
The five of them entered Ruadall Town by dusk. It was a modest settlement, the kind of place where lamplight from inns spilled across the cobblestone streets and children's laughter drifted faintly from alleys. They booked rooms at the first inn they found.
"You go," Lior said, patting Michi on the shoulder. "We'll stay here and keep watch."
Michi gave him a grateful nod and slipped out into the evening air alone.
The Ruadall Town cemetery lay at the edge of the settlement, where the lantern light faded into the embrace of shadows. Old stone markers jutted from the earth in rows, each covered with moss or carved fresh, each holding a story of a life now gone.
Michi walked among them in silence, his hood drawn low. His boots pressed softly against the soil until finally he stopped. His chest tightened.
Before him lay three gravestones, close together:
Tadashi Ken.
Ryker.
Lila.
The sight nearly buckled his knees. Memories, jagged and sharp, surged through his mind—Tadashi's unwavering will, Ryker's rugged heart, Lila's quiet strength. All of them were gone, now just names carved in stone.
Michi lowered himself slowly to his knees. His head bowed, hood shadowing his eyes as his fingers pressed into the earth. He stayed that way for several long moments, the silence deafening except for the faint rustle of the evening wind.
"…I'm sorry," he whispered finally. "For not being enough… for still walking while you can't. I'll carry you with me, all of you. No matter what comes next."
His voice wavered as he leaned forward further, his forehead brushing the cool stone. The grief was raw, heavy, but there was resolve burning within it.
It was then—when the weight of memory pressed hardest—that a sound broke the quiet.
Footsteps. Light ones, crunching over the gravel path behind him.
And then—
"Michi Onii-chan?"
The voice. Soft. Familiar. Fragile.
Michi's entire body froze. His breath caught in his throat as the words hit him like a spear. Slowly, as though afraid of shattering the fragile moment, he turned his head.
The hood shadowed his face, but his eyes widened, heart hammering against his chest.
That voice—he knew it.