The helicopter cut through the clouds in silence.
Silence sat near the open side door, wind pulling at his coat, the city shrinking beneath him. One hand rested on the metal latch of the briefcase. The other—empty.
That was when he felt it.
Not a presence above him.
Not behind him.
But with him.
A familiar weight shifted near his feet.
Silence looked down.
Heaven was there.
Curled calmly against the floor of the helicopter, wings folded tight, eyes half-open and aware. No fear. No agitation. As if it had always known where to be.
Silence exhaled sharply.
"So you came too," he murmured.
Heaven lifted its head slightly, pupils catching the light, then settled again—content.
The phone vibrated.
Silence answered without speaking.
"Where are you?" Andrew's voice came through, strained but steady.
"Coming back," Silence said. "To the grave."
A pause.
"You're not alone," Andrew said slowly.
Silence glanced down at Heaven again. "No."
When the helicopter landed, the graveyard was empty.
The earth over Claude's grave was still dark, freshly turned. Silence stepped forward alone, the sound of rotors fading behind him. He knelt, placed a single white flower at the headstone, and stayed there longer than necessary.
"I came back," he said quietly. "Like you asked."
Heaven approached the grave, sniffed once, then sat beside Silence—unnaturally still.
That was when footsteps sounded behind them.
Andy.
He stopped the moment he saw Heaven.
For the first time since all of this began, Andy lost composure.
"…What?" he said softly.
Heaven turned its head toward him.
Andy took a step closer, disbelief flooding his face. "How did you find it?"
"I didn't," Silence replied. "It found me."
Andy let out a short, incredulous breath—half laugh, half shock. "Do you have any idea what that is?"
Silence didn't answer.
Andy crouched slowly, careful not to startle it. "That's not just an animal," he said. "That's a demi-dragon."
Silence's eyes narrowed slightly.
"A species that shouldn't exist anymore," Andy continued. "Beyond classification. Beyond limitation. They don't obey instinct—they obey bond." He looked up at Silence. "If their emotional link is strong enough… there's almost nothing they can't do."
Heaven shifted closer to Silence, as if confirming it.
Andy straightened. "You don't just carry death with you," he said quietly. "You carry miracles too, apparently."
They didn't stay at the grave longer.
Andy insisted on leaving—not out of fear, but out of respect.
At Andy's house, the air felt different. Shielded. Neutral ground.
The moment they entered the hall, a low sound echoed through the space—not hostile, not welcoming. Curious.
From the far end of the room, another figure emerged.
Sleeker. Lighter in color. Eyes sharp and observant.
A female demi-dragon.
The two locked eyes.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then Heaven stepped forward.
No roar. No display.
Just recognition.
Andy exhaled slowly. "Good. That makes things easier."
They left the demi-dragons in the hall, the doors closing softly behind them.
In the study, Silence finally spoke.
"Claude knew," he said.
Andy nodded. "Yes."
"He wasn't running," Silence continued. "He was preparing."
"That's where idea two comes in," Andy replied, leaning against the table. "Observation before interference. Letting the truth surface on its own—even if it costs us time."
Silence clenched his jaw. "Time is what he didn't have."
"No," Andy corrected gently. "Time is what he spent."
Silence looked away.
"They corrected him," Silence said. "And now they'll notice the gap."
Andy met his gaze. "Which means we don't move loudly. Not yet."
Silence's reflection stared back at him from the glass cabinet—older than it should have been.
"They interrupted him," Silence said again. "So I'll finish it."
Behind the closed doors, two demi-dragons sat side by side—silent, watchful.
And somewhere beyond the walls of the house, something ancient had just realized:
Silence was no longer alone.