They stopped running only when running farther meant dragging danger into places where people couldn't escape it.
A shattered archway.
A skeletal corridor of stone and leaning beams.
Old air that remembered storms it never saw.
They stopped here.
Aiden braced against stone, lungs quiet but heart loud. Liora stood still with sharp, listening calm—the alertness of someone who had lived through too many dangerous evenings. Senior remained between them and the approaching footsteps, spine straight, cane resting lightly in his hand like punctuation to fate.
The steps finally became human.
Measured.
Professional.
Patient.
Hunters.
Aiden whispered.
"What do we do?"
Senior did not turn.
"You remember what we discussed."
Liora nodded once.
"A wish granter doesn't fight."
"No," Senior agreed gently.
"We… allow."
Aiden swallowed.
That somehow felt worse.
The first hunter stepped into view.
He didn't snarl.
He didn't gloat.
He didn't revel in menace.
He simply believed.
In his authority.
In his right.
In the certainty that the world was an equation he had already solved.
"Unregistered anomaly," he said evenly. "Comply peacefully. This is for protection, containment, and public safety."
Aiden wasn't sure whether to laugh or be sick.
The man's intention sharpened.
He didn't hunger for cruelty.
He hungered for control.
He wanted the universe to say:
You are the one who gets to decide.
Senior sighed softly.
"Oh… that's unfortunate."
And the universe heard him want.
The first thing to vanish was his simplicity.
His weapon didn't disappear so much as become irrelevant. Decision-codes lined his thoughts. Command structures snapped into place. Authority permissions flooded through crystal channels into his mind.
He suddenly had power.
Too much.
Responsibility slammed onto him like a cathedral.
Civilians at risk.
Infrastructure load balance.
Force escalation charts.
Ethical mandates.
Casualty probabilities.
Political optics.
Moral consequence.
The weight of choosing correctly crushed his breathing.
He staggered, gasping.
Hands shaking.
Eyes widening as he realized control isn't command…
…it's accountability sharpened into a blade.
He sank to his knees.
And the world did not help him.
Another arrived seconds later.
This one wasn't ambitious.
He was devoted.
Loyal down to the bone.
"I won't fail," he rasped, raising his weapon.
The universe felt that.
And gave him exactly what he craved.
Validation poured into his mind.
Approval.
Recognition.
The feeling of finally, finally being Needed.
And then—
the cost.
If you are valued this much…
you cannot fail.
Ever.
His chest tightened.
Guilt preemptively crushed him.
Every breath carried imagined disappointment.
Every heartbeat whispered:
Don't ruin this.
Don't mess up.
Don't fail.
Don't fail.
Don't fail.
Tears slipped silently down his face.
He collapsed, whispering apologies to people who weren't even there.
A third moved in—slow, righteous, steady.
Not cruel.
Not weak.
He simply believed the world must be fair.
"This is justice," he said.
He meant it.
The universe nodded gently.
Then showed him justice.
Every unsolved hurt.
Every wound no one healed.
Every desperate plea unanswered.
Every weight the world demanded justice correct…
fell onto him.
His legs buckled.
He planted trembling hands on the stone.
"I… can't fix all this…"
No one said he had to.
But justice does not care what is possible.
It only remembers what is owed.
He bowed beneath it.
A fourth came, face tight with fear.
He didn't want power.
He didn't want glory.
He wanted safety.
He wanted the world to stop being terrifying.
He wanted certainty.
"Just let everything be simple," he whispered.
Reality obliged.
Nuance shattered.
The world narrowed into binary.
Obey / Disobey
Secure / Threat
Order / Chaos
Choice vanished.
He froze.
Rigid.
Empty.
Not trapped by magic—
trapped inside the prison of absolute answers.
Aiden stared in stunned horror.
"This isn't violence…"
Liora finished softly.
"…it's consequence."
Senior's voice came
gentle
ancient
tired.
"Yes."
He didn't sound proud.
He didn't sound satisfied.
He sounded like someone who had seen this too many times.
Bootsteps echoed beyond—
then hesitated.
Because soldiers heard their comrades breaking
without being broken.
They heard breathless apologies.
Panicked prayers.
Silent screaming guilt.
They smelled fear.
Not of Aiden.
Not of magic.
Of themselves.
Liora whispered:
"Can we leave without making this worse?"
"Yes," Senior said softly. "Now. Before their desires begin echoing off one another."
Aiden hesitated.
"Will they… stay like this?"
"No," Senior replied. "When their certainty breaks, this will too. Understanding unravels the wish."
He turned.
"We go. Quickly."
They disappeared deeper into shadow.
Leaving behind men punished not by another's cruelty…
…but by the truth of their own wanting.
Elsewhere
Seris Valen was still running.
Her lungs burned.
Her voice didn't falter.
Duty does not accept breathlessness as an excuse.
The wind rushed past.
Streets blurred.
Her heart did not slow.
Then—
she heard shouting.
Not battle shouting.
Panicked commanding.
Broken authority.
Chaos trying to explain itself.
She sprinted harder.
Turned a corner.
And stopped.
Slowly.
Because the scene demanded reverence.
Hunters knelt.
Not bleeding.
Not broken.
But unraveling.
One sobbed apologies to phantom superiors.
One whispered about choices he could never make right.
One stared blankly because the world stopped giving him directions.
Another trembled beneath invisible moral weight.
Nobody was dead.
Nobody was hurt.
But they were not okay.
Seris didn't react with horror.
Or outrage.
Or denial.
She looked.
Really looked.
"These men weren't punished," she whispered.
They were…
answered.
She followed their line of sight.
Saw the disturbed dust.
Three sets of footprints escaping deeper into the city.
Her jaw tightened.
Not in anger.
In decision.
She placed a hand over her badge.
Not claiming authority.
Claiming obligation.
"I'm still coming," she whispered.
Not to capture.
Not to weaponize.
Not to enslave magic.
To understand.
To stand between whatever came next
and the easy cruelty of institutions.
The wind carried her forward.
And somewhere ahead…
Aiden breathed.
Liora steadied.
Senior carried a quiet sadness.
Because now they had crossed into a world where people want loudly.
And where wanting…
could kill.
Without meaning to.