Tarefin's place sat at the edge of the lower district, stone walls weathered smooth by years of quiet neglect. Navir did not knock.
"You usually announce yourself," Tarefin said without turning, hands steady over a small burner.
"I'm done being careful," Navir said.
Tarefin turned toward him then, his moderately long silver-black hair falling neatly as sharp eyes narrowed in appraisal.
"That so?"
Navir said, impatience sharpening his voice. "Tell me what I need to know."
A pause. Fire crackled.
"Depends what you ask," Tarefin answered.
Navir stepped closer. "It was you… right?"
"Hmm?" Tarefin voiced as he shifted his head slightly in Navir's direction.
"You pulled us out of the wasteland, me and Ardavan," Navir said, the words sharp now, jaw tightening as he looked at Tarefin like the answer was long overdue.
Tarefin exhaled slowly. "You're ahead of yourself."
"Stop circling." Navir snapped, his pulse hammering beneath his temples.
Tarefin finally faced him.
Tall.
Controlled.
The scar on his chest visible where his shirt hung loose. "You think I owe you answers."
Navir's voice roughened. "You owe me the truth."
Silence stretched between them, thick as ice.
Tarefin studied him, eyes drifting briefly to Navir's forearm, to the faint crescent darkening beneath his sleeve.
"I never said it wasn't real," Tarefin said quietly.
Navir's breath caught.
He froze, disbelief flickering across his face. "It's real." he said, the words leaving him softer than he intended.
Tarefin adjusted the flame with unhurried care. "Real enough to make people disappear."
"I got out," Navir pressed. "How was that possible?"
A thin smile barely touched Tarefin's mouth.
"You didn't escape, Navir," he said evenly. "You crossed it."
"That's not an answer." Navir shot back, heat slipping into his voice as his heartbeat surged.
"It's the only one you get." Tarefin replied, eyes steady.
Navir's hands flexed, knuckles whitening. "Ardavan, he would've disappeared."
Tarefin's gaze remained steady, betraying his curiosity. "That friend of yours? Yes. He nearly did."
Navir's voice tightened. His eyes flicked to the shadows dancing in his memory.
"The shadows…" he whispered, throat dry.
"Drifting through the wasteland…" He swallowed hard then returned his gaze to Tarefin. "…I recognized them."
His fists clenched at his sides. "They looked like the homeless in my neighborhood."
He paused, jaw tightening. "What happened to them?"
"Cycles don't announce themselves," Tarefin replied.
"They repeat. Bright minds surface. The System responds. Thresholds are tested."
"And I passed?" Navir asked.
Tarefin shook his head. "You breached it."
Silence tightened the room.
Navir swallowed. "Then I'm safe, right?"
Tarefin met his eyes at last, voice even. "Survival doesn't mean exemption."
Navir walked away with his back to Tarefin, each step striking the worn floor like a drumbeat. His chest tightened, frustration gnawing at his ribs, fingers clenching into fists at his sides. He didn't look over his shoulder.
"You still don't see it," Tarefin said calmly, his gaze steady and unreadable.
Navir halted mid-step. "What?"
"You're asking the wrong question Navir," Tarefin said, tone steady, deliberate.
Navir's mind whirred. His heartbeat thundered in his ears. He realized, with a cold jolt, that he didn't know what the right question even was.