A boy about the same size as Nero was leaning against a tree trunk, arms crossed and one leg casually propped up on the bark.
He was dressed head to toe in black, simple yet carefully chosen, as if each garment had been selected with intention.
However, what truly drew attention wasn't his clothing, but the details that clashed with it: a wizard's hat perched tilted on his head and a necklace of tiny pearls that stood out starkly against the surroundings.
The group stopped immediately.
No one spoke.
Eyes tightened almost simultaneously, and some instinctively adjusted their posture, ready to react to any movement.
Even so, the stranger showed not the slightest sign of discomfort.
He didn't straighten up, didn't move, didn't even seem surprised by their presence. His expression was calm, almost bored, as if he had been expecting them… or as if they didn't matter to him at all.
Nero was the first to feel that strange pang in his chest.
Something about the boy seemed familiar.
Without thinking too much, he took a step forward.
"Merlin?"
His voice came out uncertain, more as a question than a statement.
The stranger slowly raised an eyebrow and, for the first time, fixed his gaze on Nero.
There was no surprise in his eyes, only a quick, cold assessment, as if he were measuring something invisible.
Sunday and Lux turned their heads toward Nero almost simultaneously. Their gazes were full of questions, but neither interrupted.
"Sir…" the boy finally said, looking away with obvious disinterest. "Do we know each other?"
The tone was polite, but dismissive. There was no real curiosity in his words.
Nero gritted his teeth.
A strained smile crossed his face as he held back. He knew that answer wasn't casual.
What an idiot…
Nero adjusted his monocle with a flourish.
"No. I only recognized you from one of your shows."
Rose alternated her gaze between Nero and Merlin, unable to ignore the awkwardness that hung in the air.
Axel, on the other hand, didn't seem to care. He remained engrossed in the file he held in his hands, his expression growing increasingly serious.
Merlin glanced away, his gaze fixed on some invisible point among the trees, as if he had lost interest altogether.
Without another word, he calmly stood up and began to walk away, strolling leisurely through the undergrowth.
Before disappearing completely, he turned one last time.
His eyes slowly scanned the group, lingering for just a second longer on each face, as if he were etching them into his memory.
Then, he simply left.
"How awkward…" Kōri murmured, finally breaking the silence.
No one responded immediately.
With no other option, the group resumed their journey. The atmosphere felt heavier than before, as if the brief conversation had left an invisible mark in the air.
Rose walked with her head down, still tense. Suddenly, she let out a small, stifled cry when she noticed movement among the roots of a tree.
A snake slithered out of the leaf litter, hissing.
Before anyone could react, Sunday stepped forward. His katana moved in a single, clean, precise motion, quick as a reflex. The animal fell motionless to the ground.
Rose clutched her chest, breathing heavily.
"Thank you…" she whispered.
Sunday nodded silently and resheathed his weapon.
Nero approached Sunday and said mockingly,
"Blah, blah. I'm Sunday, a knight who saves the princess. Blah, blah… idiot."
Sunday's face lit up with amusement.
The group continued walking until the trees began to thin out and the light grew brighter. As they emerged from the woods, the landscape changed completely.
A small park appeared before them. Well-maintained paths, elegantly designed benches, and modern lampposts lined the grounds.
Several people, dressed in fine clothes and light colors, strolled leisurely or chatted amidst soft laughter. Some held drinks, others simply enjoyed the atmosphere.
Everything seemed… comfortable.
Nero paused for a moment.
He observed their relaxed faces, the carefree gestures, the way they seemed to belong there without question.
He felt something cold settle in his chest.
It wasn't hatred.
It was envy.
Axel led them toward an old Victorian-style building that stood out among the others like a well-preserved relic.
Its pale walls and meticulous moldings contrasted with the surrounding modernity, as if the place belonged to another era, yet refused to disappear.
Axel didn't look up once. His eyes scanned the contents of the file with almost obsessive concentration, flipping pages and lines quickly, as if time were ticking away.
As they walked down the street, several people stopped, noticing their presence. Some frowned; others put their hands to their noses in obvious displeasure.
The scent emanating from the group's clothing was impossible to ignore: dried sweat, dust, forest, and metal. They were outsiders, and it showed.
Nero sensed it immediately.
Not only from the stares, but from the way people moved back just inches, enough to avoid touching them.
They entered the building without ceremony.
The interior was spacious and quiet, with polished wooden floors that creaked softly beneath their feet. They climbed the stairs, and each step seemed to amplify the sound of their worn shoes, as if the place itself were judging them.
Axel stopped near a large window and pointed to some benches lined up against the wall.
"Sit down," he ordered without taking his eyes off the file.
The group obeyed without protest.
Nero was the last to sit down.
He went to the window and rested a hand lightly on the glass. From there he could see part of the park, the clean streets, and the orderly buildings. Everything seemed to function with a harmony that he found almost offensive.
From the window, Nero noticed something that made him lean a little closer to the glass.
In the distance, between the buildings and the wide streets, trains moved along on well-defined tracks. They weren't noisy or smoky like the ones he remembered, but long, elegant, moving with almost unreal precision.
Closer, along the main avenues, carriages traveled calmly, pulled by well-cared-for animals or powered by mechanisms that Nero couldn't quite understand.
He remained motionless.
He hadn't expected to see something like this there.
For a moment, he forgot the file, the building, and even the tension that still clung to his body. His mind drifted back to memories he thought were buried. To places that no longer existed… or that he had assumed he would never see again.
He had thought he would never see a train again.
Or a carriage.
That those things belonged to another time, to another life that wasn't his. Yet there they were, moving forward naturally, as if the world had never been broken.
Nero swallowed.
This place didn't just function.
It thrived.
And the idea was as fascinating as it was unsettling.
For the first time since they had arrived in the West Zone, he felt not just envy… but an uncomfortable question forming in the back of his mind:
What kind of world had they ended up in?
Axel cleared his throat softly, breaking the silence that had settled in the room.
Nero looked away from the window and turned to face him. The others did the same almost immediately.
Axel placed the file on a nearby table and, for the first time since they had entered the building, looked at them one by one.
His expression was serious, calculating, as if he were weighing the weight of what he was about to say.
"Come in a little further," he said, pointing to an interior door. "This isn't something that should be overheard from the hallway."
The group obeyed without question.
The room they entered was smaller, but cozy. It had shelves full of documents, a lamp on, and several chairs arranged around a rectangular table.
Axel closed the door carefully.
The click of the latch echoed longer than expected.
"Good," he said finally, placing both hands on the table. "From this moment on, things are going to change for you."
Nero shifted in his seat, attentive. Something in Axel's tone caused a slight pressure in his chest.
"You can't keep moving around the West Zone like you have been," Axel continued. "Everything here is registered. People, jobs, homes… even names."
Rose frowned slightly.
"Names?" she asked.
Axel nodded.
"You're going to need new identities. A new name, an assigned residence, and a job that keeps you within the system." He paused briefly before adding, "It's the only way you can stay."
Silence fell over the room again.
For some, the idea of a home sounded tempting. For others, unsettling.
Nero lowered his gaze for a moment. Changing his name wasn't just a formality. It was leaving something behind, even if he didn't know exactly what.
"You'll be able to choose them," Axel clarified, as if he'd sensed the discomfort. "Nothing will be imposed on you... at least not in that respect."
Sunday crossed his arms, lost in thought. Lux was observing the room intently, as if already assessing escape routes. Kōri shifted in his seat, uneasy at the idea of remaining still for too long.
Axel reopened the file and flipped through a few pages.
"Once this is settled, you'll be assigned a place to live and a job suited to your abilities. Nothing luxurious, but sufficient."
Nero looked up.
"So what's the problem?" he asked directly.
Axel remained still.
He didn't answer immediately.
He slowly closed the file and looked up, this time without hesitation. The tension in his expression was impossible to ignore.
"Their arrival didn't go unnoticed," he finally said. "And there are people in the West Zone who aren't too happy about that."
The air seemed to grow heavier.
Axel took a deep breath before adding, in a low but firm voice:
"And believe me… they're not people you want to attract attention from."