Elyon felt lighter once they started moving again.
Not safe. Not free. Just lighter.
The streets they walked through were not special. Broken roads, flickering signs, people rushing past with tired faces. No one looked at Elyon twice. No one knew what had almost happened under their feet or above their heads.
That was the point.
"If we keep doing this," Rin said quietly as they walked, "they'll lose track of what you are."
Elyon nodded. "And people will stop thinking I'm the answer."
Rin glanced at him. "You're sure you want that?"
"Yes," Elyon said without hesitation. "The moment people wait for me, I become part of the system."
They crossed into a busier area where small groups gathered around street corners. Some talked. Some argued. Some just stood and watched the world move.
Elyon slowed.
"Here," he said.
Rin raised an eyebrow. "Here what?"
"This is where weight gathers," Elyon replied. "Fear, rumors, waiting. You can feel it if you listen."
Rin studied the people nearby. "So what do we do?"
Elyon took a breath. "We give it back."
They approached a group arguing near a broken water pipe. The pipe leaked slowly, forming a dirty pool on the ground. People complained, but no one acted.
"It's been like this for days," a man said. "No one comes."
Elyon stepped closer. "Did anyone report it?"
The man scoffed. "Reports don't work."
"Sometimes they do," Elyon said. "Sometimes they don't. But standing here won't fix it."
The group turned toward him, annoyed at first.
"And you'll fix it?" someone asked.
Elyon shook his head. "No. But you can."
He pointed to a nearby maintenance box. "That valve can reduce pressure. It won't stop the leak, but it'll slow it."
The man frowned. "You sure?"
"No," Elyon said honestly. "But it's better than nothing."
After a moment of hesitation, the man moved. He twisted the valve. The water flow slowed.
The group fell quiet.
Elyon stepped back. "See? You don't need someone special."
Rin watched carefully as they walked away.
"That was risky," Rin said.
"Yes," Elyon agreed. "But it spreads responsibility."
They repeated it again and again as the day went on.
Not fixing everything.
Not saving everyone.
Just pointing.
Just reminding.
At a crowded crossing, Elyon warned a traffic guard about a failing signal timer. At a market street, Rin helped a vendor organize people so a fallen stall could be lifted safely. In a narrow alley, Elyon showed a group of kids how to brace a loose ladder instead of climbing it blindly.
No power.
No band.
No system.
Just choices shared out instead of pulled inward.
By evening, Elyon felt it.
The pressure was different now.
Still there, but spread thin, like weight carried by many hands.
"They're noticing," Rin said as they rested near a closed shop.
Elyon nodded. "Yes. But they can't pin it to me."
The band under his sleeve pulsed faintly, confused.
For the first time, it did not know what to record.
A screen nearby flickered to life with a public notice. Not about Elyon. Not about relocation.
General advice. Safety reminders. Community alerts.
"They're adapting," Rin said.
"Yes," Elyon replied. "But so are people."
As night fell, they moved toward the edge of the district. Fewer lights. More shadows. Not hiding—just not standing still.
Rin looked at Elyon as they walked. "You know this won't stop them."
"I know," Elyon said. "But it changes the cost."
Rin smiled faintly. "You're making them spend effort everywhere."
"That's the idea," Elyon said. "If they want control, they'll have to earn it."
They reached a quiet rooftop overlooking several blocks. Elyon leaned on the railing and looked out at the city.
For the first time, he did not feel like it was leaning back.
"I used to think power was the problem," Elyon said softly. "Now I think it's focus."
Rin nodded. "Too much weight in one place breaks things."
Elyon looked down at his wrist and finally pulled the cloth away. The cracked band glowed weakly, unevenly.
"You don't scare me anymore," Elyon said to it. "You don't define me."
The band flickered once, then dimmed.
Not gone.
But smaller.
Somewhere deep in the city's systems, tracking models struggled. Patterns blurred. Cause and effect no longer lined up cleanly.
Because Elyon was no longer standing where pressure could gather.
He was moving.
And by moving, by refusing to carry what was never meant for him alone, he was doing something far more dangerous than breaking rules.
He was teaching the city how to stand without him.
And once a system learns that lesson,
it never forgets
who made it possible.