Elyon and Rin did not stop until the streets changed shape.
Crowds thinned. Noise softened. The buildings grew older and closer together, their walls leaning in like tired shoulders. Elyon's breath burned in his chest, but he kept walking at a steady pace. He forced himself not to look back.
Looking back made things real.
"They let us go," Rin said quietly.
"For now," Elyon replied. "They got what they wanted."
Rin frowned. "You stopped the failure. You didn't submit. What did they get?"
Elyon slowed near a broken stairwell and leaned against the wall. He closed his eyes for a second, feeling the city settle around him. The band under the cloth was warm again, not loud, not sharp. Present.
"They proved they can make me move," Elyon said. "They didn't need to take me. They needed to show me the cost of staying free."
Rin crossed their arms. "So what's the next move?"
Elyon opened his eyes. "They'll spread stories."
"About you?"
"Yes," Elyon said. "But not the truth. Pieces of it."
They moved again, climbing the stairwell and entering an empty floor with a view over the lower blocks. Elyon crouched by the window and watched people pass below. Everything looked normal. That was the danger.
"They'll say accidents stop when I'm nearby," Elyon continued. "They'll say things get worse when I leave."
Rin understood. "They turn you into a charm."
"Or a curse," Elyon said. "Depending on what they need."
The band pulsed once, faint and steady.
Rin looked at his wrist. "It's reacting again."
"Yes," Elyon said. "Because this isn't about power. It's about meaning."
They stayed quiet for a while. Wind pushed through the broken window, carrying the smell of rain and oil. Elyon felt tired in a deep way, like the world had been leaning on him for too long.
"I won't carry everything," Elyon said finally. "That's how they win."
Rin nodded. "Then you have to let something break."
Elyon winced. "People get hurt when things break."
"Yes," Rin said. "But fewer people get hurt when one person doesn't pretend they can hold the whole city together."
Elyon stared down at the street. A vendor argued with a customer. A child dropped a toy and cried. Someone helped them pick it up. Life continued without him.
"That's the truth they don't want me to see," Elyon said. "The city already survives without me."
Rin smiled faintly. "Exactly."
A sound echoed from the stairwell below. Footsteps. Calm. Human.
Rin tensed. Elyon raised a hand.
Two people appeared at the top of the stairs. Plain clothes. No weapons in sight. Their eyes found Elyon immediately.
"Elyon," one said. "We need a word."
Elyon stood slowly. He did not feel fear. He felt weight.
"I'm listening," he said.
The second person spoke. "Your actions today prevented injuries. That is acknowledged."
"Acknowledged by who?" Elyon asked.
"By the city," the first replied.
Elyon almost laughed. "The city doesn't speak."
The person smiled politely. "It does through us."
Rin stepped closer to Elyon's side. Elyon did not stop them.
"You're creating dependency," the second person said. "People are beginning to look for you."
"I didn't ask them to," Elyon replied.
"But you didn't stop them either," the first said. "That creates instability."
Elyon nodded slowly. "You want me to disappear again."
"No," the second said. "We want you to choose a role."
The word hit hard.
"What role?" Elyon asked.
"Advisor," the first replied. "Consultant. Someone we call when patterns misalign."
Rin stiffened. "You want to leash him."
"We want to formalize him," the second corrected. "Reduce harm."
Elyon felt the band warm, like it was leaning forward to listen.
"Formalize means control," Elyon said.
"It means safety," the first replied.
"For who?" Elyon asked.
The silence answered that.
Elyon looked at Rin. Then back at the two people. He took a slow breath.
"No," he said.
The word landed clean.
The two exchanged a glance. "You're refusing stability."
"I'm refusing ownership," Elyon replied.
The second person's voice cooled slightly. "If you continue without structure, outcomes will worsen."
"Then let them," Elyon said quietly.
Rin inhaled sharply.
Elyon continued, his voice steady. "You don't get to make me responsible for everything you don't want to fix."
The band pulsed once, sharp but contained.
The first person nodded slowly. "Then understand this. When things break, people will look for you. Not us."
Elyon nodded. "I know."
They turned and left without another word.
Rin stared at Elyon. "That was it?"
"Yes," Elyon said. "That was the offer."
"And you refused," Rin said.
Elyon leaned back against the wall, feeling the weight lift slightly. "I refused the shape they wanted."
Rin exhaled. "You just made enemies."
"No," Elyon replied. "I made uncertainty."
They stood there as the light outside shifted. The city kept moving.
Elyon pulled the cloth away from his wrist and looked at the cracked band. It flickered weakly, like it was struggling to decide what he was now.
"You don't get to decide either," Elyon said softly.
The band did not respond.
For the first time since the alley, Elyon felt something close to relief. Not safety. Not victory.
Space.
He looked at Rin. "I can't stay in one place."
Rin nodded. "Neither can I."
"Good," Elyon said. "Then we move. Not to hide. To scatter the weight."
Rin smiled, tired but real. "Teach people to stop waiting for you."
"Yes," Elyon said. "That's how this ends."
They left the building together and merged into the city once more, not as a solution, not as a symbol, but as two people choosing not to carry a burden that was never meant for one pair of hands.
Above them, systems adjusted again, slower this time.
Because the hardest variable to control was not power.
It was a human who knew when to refuse responsibility itself.