Elyon did not know how long he walked.
Time felt different inside the silence. Not slower. Not faster. Just loose. Like it no longer needed to behave.
The path the space had shown him did not glow. It did not guide him step by step. It simply existed, and Elyon followed it because it felt right.
His thoughts were clear.
That scared him.
He reached the edge of the memory field without warning. One step, and the ground beneath his foot changed. The warmth faded. The air cooled. The quiet thinned.
The door appeared in front of him.
Not opening.
Not closed.
Waiting.
Elyon stopped and looked down at his wrist.
The band was still cracked. The light inside was weak, unstable, but present. It felt different now. Less tight. Less controlling.
Like a leash that had been cut and poorly tied back together.
"You don't get to pull me anymore," Elyon said quietly.
The band did not respond.
That was enough.
He placed his hand against the door and pushed.
The hall on the other side felt loud.
Not with sound—but with life.
The hum of old systems. The faint vibration of the city far above. The weight of distance and layers pressing down.
Rin stood where Elyon had left them.
They were leaning against the wall, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the door.
When Elyon stepped out, Rin straightened so fast it looked like their body had moved before their mind.
"You came back," Rin said.
Elyon nodded. "I said I would."
Rin stared at him, eyes scanning his face, his posture, his wrist. "You look… wrong."
Elyon laughed softly. "I feel worse."
Rin stepped closer. "What happened in there?"
Elyon hesitated.
Not because he didn't want to answer.
Because he didn't know how.
"It didn't give me power," he said slowly. "It didn't teach me control. It didn't fix anything."
Rin waited.
"It showed me where the cracks come from," Elyon continued. "And what happens when someone stands in them."
Rin swallowed. "And?"
"And I walked out," Elyon said. "So now the cracks came with me."
The tunnel vibrated faintly.
Not danger.
Movement.
Rin's eyes narrowed. "You're being felt again."
Elyon nodded. "Yes. But not clearly."
Rin looked at his wrist. "The band?"
"It's damaged," Elyon said. "Not broken. Just… unreliable."
Rin exhaled. "That might be the worst state possible."
Elyon smiled faintly. "I'm learning that's my specialty."
They moved.
Not quickly. Not hiding.
Just walking.
The tunnels seemed to respond differently to Elyon now. Doors opened slower. Lights flickered when he passed. Old machines hummed, then fell silent again.
Like they were unsure whether to acknowledge him.
Rin noticed everything.
"You're not invisible anymore," Rin said.
"No," Elyon agreed. "I'm… inconsistent."
That made Rin laugh, once. "Good. Systems hate that."
They reached a narrow bridge crossing a deep shaft. Air moved up from below, cold and sharp.
Halfway across, Elyon stopped.
Rin turned. "What is it?"
Elyon closed his eyes.
He felt it.
A pull—not from above, but from the side. A thin thread of attention brushing against him.
Not hunters.
Observers.
"They found my edge," Elyon said.
Rin swore under their breath. "Already?"
"They're not looking for me," Elyon said. "They're looking at where I change things."
The band warmed.
Not warning.
Awareness.
—TRACE VARIANCE: HIGH—
Rin stared at his wrist. "That's new."
Elyon nodded. "They don't know how to follow me cleanly anymore."
The air shifted.
A shape formed near the far end of the bridge.
Not a hunter.
Not a drone.
A projection.
Thin. Pale. Human-shaped, but empty.
It spoke without moving its mouth.
"You exited a protected zone," it said calmly. "That action increases risk."
Elyon opened his eyes and looked at it.
"I know," he replied.
The projection paused. "You are advised to return."
Rin raised their mechanical arm slightly.
Elyon lifted his hand—not to stop Rin, but to calm them.
"No," Elyon said to the projection. "I won't."
The projection tilted its head. "Noncompliance logged."
Elyon took a slow breath. "I didn't come back to refuse you."
The projection froze. "Clarify."
"I came back to choose where you break," Elyon said.
The band pulsed once.
The bridge creaked.
Not collapsing.
Adjusting.
The projection flickered. "Environmental instability detected."
"Yes," Elyon said quietly. "That's me."
The projection vanished.
Silence returned—but it felt shaken.
Rin stared at Elyon. "You didn't push it."
"No," Elyon said. "I stood where it didn't expect me."
They crossed the rest of the bridge without interference.
On the other side, Rin finally stopped walking.
"You understand what you're doing, right?" Rin asked.
Elyon looked at the dark tunnels ahead. "I'm not fighting the system."
Rin waited.
"I'm making myself expensive," Elyon finished.
Rin nodded slowly. "Cost changes behavior."
"That's what the silence taught me," Elyon said. "Power just creates resistance. Cost creates hesitation."
Rin looked almost hopeful. Almost.
"What happens next?" Rin asked.
Elyon thought of the city above. The slums. The watchers. The quiet fear in ordinary people who didn't know any of this existed.
"I go back up," Elyon said.
Rin stiffened. "That's suicide."
"No," Elyon said. "It's exposure."
"You'll be seen."
"Yes."
"You'll be hunted."
"Yes."
Rin searched his face. "Then why?"
Elyon met their eyes. "Because hiding only protects me."
Rin was silent for a long moment.
Then they nodded. "Then I'm not staying down here."
Elyon frowned. "You don't have to—"
"I know," Rin said. "That's why I will."
They started walking upward.
Far above, systems adjusted again.
Not alarmed.
Concerned.
Because Elyon was no longer running from attention.
He was carrying it carefully—
like a fracture wrapped in human skin,
walking back into the place
where it could do the most damage
without ever becoming a weapon.