Kairo did not return to the Threshold Chamber, he left it behind like a solved equation that still poisoned the room.
The city accepted him back without resistance, gates opened, streets flowed, bells rang on schedule. Nothing in the world suggested that a dark truth had just been spoken aloud in a place designed to erase such things. That, more than anything, unsettled him.
He walked fast, jacket pulled close, eyes tracking patterns he could no longer ignore. Every shrine he passed felt less like a place of worship and more like a terminal. Every priest a clerk, every miracle a stamp of approval. By the time the infirmary came into view, the sun had dipped low enough to stain the walls copper.
Kairo slowed, the courtyard was wrong, the herbs were still there, but unwatered. Leaves curled inward, thirsty. The basin near the door sat untouched, its surface filmed over, reflecting the sky like neglected glass.
No voices, no quiet industry, just stillness. Kairo crossed the threshold.
Inside, the infirmary felt hollowed out. Beds were neatly made, too neatly, the kind of order that followed disruption, not peace. The hanging cloth partitions had been tied back, as if the room were being shown off to an audience that had already left.
"Seris?", Kairo called, his voice fell flat. He moved deeper, heart beating faster with each step, the familiar pressure stirred as he passed the beds, the sense of magic waiting on outcomes that would never arrive.
Then he saw the seal, a thin mark etched into the stone near the inner hall, subtle, Official. A sigil of cessation.
Kael stopped breathing, he knew that symbol. Not from this time. From records, from margins, from footnotes that marked the end of variance.
He turned slowly. At the far end of the hall, two attendants stood beside a covered body on a low table. They wore grey, not priestly robes, but something administrative. Their movements were precise, rehearsed.
One of them noticed Kairo, "You shouldn't be here", the attendant said calmly.nKairo's voice came out steady only because it had nowhere else to go. "Who are you, what's going on here?", the attendant hesitated, then answered "Unauthorized deviation," they said. "Persistent."
He sees it, Seris' lifeless body. Kairo was speechless, he's flooded with emotions. Up until this point Kairo had only seen the worst that this world had to offer, that was till he meet Seris. The one person that he really trusted is dead.
Kairo takes a step forward, "Her name was Seris". The second attendant inclined his head, "She has been recorded". Kairo's hands curled slowly at his sides, "She healed people". "Yes", the attendants said in unison. "She prevented deaths", "Within tolerance", the first attendant said.
Kairo laughed once, sharp enough to sting his own throat. "She stayed when the timing wasn't kind". The attendants exchanged a glance, one of them shifted uncomfortably. "She was warned", the second said, "Multiple times."
Kael approached the table, "No", he said quietly. "She was delayed". The cloth covering the body was clean. Respectful, no blood, no spectacle. Whatever had killed her had done so gently, the way this system did everything.
Kael did not lift the cloth, he didn't need to, he could feel her absence. It was louder than any scream. "Why now?", Kairo asked. "Withdrawal", the attendant replied, "Sustained".
Kairo closed his eyes, not a strike, not punishment. Just magic no longer answering when she reached for it. A healer without permission. A problem that solved itself. "You may leave now", the attendant said.
Kairo opened his eyes, "No", he replied. The attendants stiffened, "This matter is concluded", the attendants said with fear in their voices. Kairo stepped closer to the table, placing his hand flat on the stone beside it. The resistance surged immediately, sharper than ever, like the world was bracing itself.
"This matter," Kairi said, voice even and low, "is just the beginning". The attendants backed away, not because of power but because of certainty. They felt the intense bloodlust from Kairo, but he was calm. Kairo himself didn't.
Kairo stood there for a long moment after they left, the infirmary settling into its final night. He reached into his jacket and pulled out the wooden token Seris had given him. The simple knot was warm, worn smooth by her fingers.
He pressed it into his palm until it hurt. "If only she had never met me, if only she had never helped me", but she did. Kairo sat on the edge of the table and let the grief arrive fully, tears filled his eyes, the weight was too much to bear. It pressed into his chest, heavy and grounding. This was the cost made personal.
She understood the consequences and had accepted them. And the system had removed her for it. Kairo stood, he did not rage. Rage was loud, rage got corrected.nInstead, he listened, not to the gods, to the space where permission lived. He reached for magic, the resistance came immediately, firm and patient, like a hand on his wrist.
Kairo did not push, He commanded. No healing, no revival, no change to the outcome. Just clarity and understanding. The magic answered, not brightly, certainly not gladly, but completely. Kairo felt it then, unmistakable.
Alignment wasn't a wall, It was a conversation. One he had been having all wrong. He withdrew his hand and exhaled slowly. "Thank you", he said, not to the gods but to Seris. To the quiet defiance she had lived by.
Outside, the bells rang again, marking another acceptable hour. Kairo stepped into the street, the token secured at his throat like a promise sharpened into purpose.
They had taken a healer because she bent outcomes. They would learn what happened when someone stopped bending, and started rewriting.