The two barely evaded the guards of the judicial complex, slipping into the underground tunnels where their black car waited. They got in without a word. Silence ruled the cabin—unbroken, suffocating.
Tiflos drove without expression. Noor watched him from the corner of her eye, wanting to speak, needing to speak—but the cold radiating from him reached straight down her spine.
They emerged into the city streets, alive with light and motion. Massive screens reflected off the car windows, casting flickering colors across their faces. At a red light, a news broadcast filled the screen beside them.
The judicial complex appeared on display—unrecognizable, shattered, collapsing like a terminal patient awaiting death. Reporters spoke in frantic tones, describing the brutality of the crime.
Noor looked at Tiflos. He ignored the broadcast completely.
Her voice trembled as she asked the question she already feared the answer to.
"Do you… regret it?"
A pause.
"Do you feel guilty—at least a little?"
Tiflos didn't answer.
He turned off the road and stopped near the forest that led back to the facility.
Slowly, very slowly, he turned to her. His voice was calm—too calm.
"I will never regret enforcing justice," he said.
"And I will never feel guilt for doing what must be done."
The words were brief. Simple.
But paired with that frozen gaze, they made Noor shiver as if she were standing naked in the heart of a glacier.
Without another word, Tiflos drove on—back to the organization.
---
When they returned to the facility, Cain was already waiting at the main gate. A satisfied smile rested on his face.
"Magnificent," Cain said. "You finally understand true justice. Justice doesn't come from courts—it comes from will."
Tiflos didn't respond.
He stepped out of the car, pulled out a cloth, and began wiping his hands and his sword. The white fabric absorbed faint traces of blood as his movements became mechanical, repetitive—like someone performing routine maintenance.
His eyes were fixed on the blade. Empty.
The fire that once burned inside them was gone.
Noor stepped forward, fury blazing in her silver eyes.
"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" she snapped at Cain.
"To turn him into a killer without feelings? Someone who kills with the coldness of a machine?"
"I want him to become realistic," Cain corrected calmly, pride laced through his tone.
"And realism sometimes demands cruelty. The world has no mercy for the weak."
Noor turned away, tears filling her eyes, and walked inside without looking back.
Tiflos followed—his steps slow, his gaze fixed on the floor, his face unchanged.
---
Later that night, unlike every night before, Noor refused to enter Tiflos's room.
She stood before the closed door, her palms pressed against the cold wood.
"I can't," she whispered. "I can't look at you. You've become… someone else."
On the other side, Tiflos leaned forward, his forehead resting against the door.
"You don't understand," he said quietly.
"I was protecting us. Protecting everyone who suffered under that man… and everyone who would have suffered in the future."
"No!" she cried, her voice breaking.
"That was revenge! And there's a difference—a huge one—between justice and revenge. Justice seeks truth. Revenge seeks blood."
Her sobs grew heavier.
"When I met you, I gave up the idea of killing Cain. I wanted us to escape—leave this place, start a clean page, far away from this country…"
Her voice cracked completely.
"But you…"
She walked away, leaving the door—and him—behind.
---
Tiflos sat alone in the darkness of his room, staring at his hands as if expecting to find blood still clinging to them. He felt hollow, as though a part of his soul had died with Valerius.
The only light came from the holographic screens hovering in the air, displaying data for the next mission—scheduled in two days.
Then, without knocking, Cain entered as he always did. His shadow stretched across the wall like a mythic creature.
"Clay cannot be shaped without heat," Cain said.
"And strength does not come without suffering. Today was your beginning. Today, we remade you."
"I lose her, don't I?" Tiflos asked hoarsely.
"I lose Noor… and I lose myself. Isn't that what you want?"
"You lose the old version," Cain replied, gazing out the window.
"But you gain a new one—stronger, better suited to face the brutal truths of this world."
Cain left.
Tiflos remained alone with his thoughts.
He knew the point of no return was long past. The road ahead would be darker than anything he had faced before. He looked at his reflection in the glass and saw a stranger staring back at him.
And in the silence of the room, Tiflos finally understood the bitter truth:
Justice can turn to ash.
But from that ash, something new is born—
something colder, more efficient, more monstrous.
And now, he had to decide—
Become that thing…
or die trying to remain human.