Outside the shelter, Greenmire was unusually calm.
The towering dark trees swayed slowly overhead while cold wind drifted through the clearing where the group usually trained. After a month of recovery—and with Tom and Alex finally awake—everyone had decided on something lighter today.
No serious sparring.
No reckless aether bursts.
Just movement.
Stretching.
Trying to remind their bodies they were alive without tearing themselves apart again.
Unfortunately, even light training was painful.
Tom slowly bent his shoulder with a visible grimace.
"…Yep," he muttered. "Still hurts."
Nearby, Alex was attempting a basic stretch and looked equally miserable.
"My ribs feel cursed."
Sunny glanced at them both from where he was leaning against a tree.
"You two got folded by the Devourer."
Tom looked offended.
"That thing cheated."
"It punched you."
"Exactly."
Kierran nearly laughed himself into pain again.
Layla shook her head quietly.
Rivien, meanwhile, had somehow turned basic stretching into dramatic martial arts poses for absolutely no reason.
"I call this stance," he announced proudly, "the emotionally exhausted crane."
"No you don't," Lucas replied instantly.
"I absolutely do."
Tom ignored them and glanced sideways toward Alex.
A pause settled between them.
Then Tom narrowed his eyes slightly.
"…You were holding back."
Alex blinked once.
"What?"
"During the fight."
Tom stretched his arm again slowly, wincing.
"You weren't using your full abilities."
Alex stared at him for a second before scoffing quietly.
"That's rich coming from you."
Tom looked over immediately.
"…Excuse me?"
"You heard me," Alex replied. "You were hiding things too."
Sunny and Layla immediately exchanged a glance nearby.
Oh, this was becoming interesting.
Tom frowned deeply now.
"I was injured."
"So was I."
"That doesn't explain the resonance shift."
Alex's expression sharpened slightly.
"…You noticed that?"
"I notice a lot."
Alex crossed his arms slowly.
"…Then you also noticed your own aether behaving strangely."
Tom went quiet.
That silence alone answered enough.
Kierran glanced between them curiously now.
"…Wait," he muttered. "You two seriously think the other was hiding power?"
"Absolutely," Tom and Alex answered at the same time.
They paused.
Then looked at each other again suspiciously.
Rivien pointed dramatically.
"Oh this is excellent."
"No it isn't," Sunny replied immediately.
"Yes it is. This is old men arguing about secret powers."
Tom looked deeply offended.
"…I am not old."
Alex nodded toward him.
"You literally sound old."
"And you dress like unresolved trauma."
The clearing went silent for half a second.
Lucas wheezed.
Kierran folded over laughing and instantly regretted it because of his ribs.
Even Layla covered her mouth briefly.
Sunny turned away entirely.
Rivien pointed at Alex dramatically.
"Critical hit."
Tom looked betrayed.
"…That was unnecessary."
Alex shrugged.
"You started it."
Tom narrowed his eyes again though the suspicion never fully left his expression.
"…Still," he muttered. "Something about your abilities doesn't add up."
Alex's own gaze sharpened too.
"…Same to you."
And despite accusing each other openly—
neither of them could fully explain why they felt that way.
They just knew.
Something about the other felt incomplete.
Hidden.
Like both of them were seeing fragments of a much larger truth they couldn't fully reach yet.
Meanwhile, inside the shelter—
the house no longer looked the same as it had a month ago.
Using resonance shaping and compressed aether reinforcement, Sunny had expanded the structure significantly to accommodate everyone. What was once a small hidden refuge in Greenmire had slowly turned into something closer to a proper base.
More rooms.
Stronger walls.
Wider halls.
Enough space for everyone to recover without practically sleeping on top of each other.
And yet—
despite all the noise outside, one room remained quiet.
Dim light filtered softly through the window beside Arthur Ravenheart.
He still hadn't woken up.
Even after a month.
Though his wounds had mostly healed, there was still something unsettling about his condition. His body continued absorbing aether unnaturally slowly, like part of him was still trapped somewhere far away.
Beside him sat Alexi Ravenheart.
As usual.
She had become a constant presence near him.
Sometimes reading quietly.
Sometimes sitting in silence.
Sometimes simply watching to make sure he was still breathing.
Today—
she spoke.
Softly.
"…You really are stubborn."
Arthur didn't move.
Alexi lowered her gaze toward her hands briefly before continuing.
"I still don't understand why you came for me."
Her voice trembled slightly.
"…You could've died."
Silence answered her.
Outside, faint laughter from the others drifted through the walls before fading again.
Alexi looked back toward Arthur's unconscious face.
"…No," she whispered quietly. "You almost died."
Her fingers tightened slightly around the blanket near him.
"I saw it."
Memories flashed through her mind immediately.
Arthur standing alone against the Devourer.
His body breaking apart.
Still moving anyway.
Still fighting.
Even when everyone else had fallen.
Alexi swallowed hard.
"…You idiot."
The words came out weakly, almost breaking halfway through.
She looked away for a moment before forcing herself to continue.
"…Thank you."
Silence again.
Then quieter—
more fragile this time.
"…Thank you for saving me."
Arthur remained still.
Alexi lowered her head slightly.
"And if you wake up…"
A pause.
"…I'll explain."
Her voice softened further.
"Everything."
The chains.
The Devourer.
Why she had been there.
Why that creature had kept her alive instead of killing her.
Tears gathered faintly in her eyes again despite her trying to stay composed.
"…So please," she whispered.
Her hand slowly reached toward his.
"…Just wake up."
The room stayed silent.
Only the faint movement of aether around Arthur's sleeping body responded—
pulsing once…
very softly.
Outside, the atmosphere in Greenmire had shifted again.
The brief warmth from the earlier jokes and conversations had faded into focused movement as training resumed across the clearing.
Kierran and Lucas were sparring lightly again despite both still recovering, while Sunny occasionally stepped in to correct their stance whenever they got sloppy.
Layla mostly watched.
Rivien mostly talked.
Which, according to everyone else, was somehow more exhausting than training itself.
But further away from the group—
far enough that the sounds of sparring barely reached them—
Tom and Alex had separated.
Nearly a hundred meters apart from each other.
Neither said it aloud.
But both of them needed space.
Needed to test their bodies again.
Needed to think.
Tom stood beneath a massive dark tree, slowly rotating his shoulder while traces of aether gathered around his arm unevenly.
Pain still lingered in every movement.
His ribs ached.
His muscles felt heavy.
And yet—
his pride hurt worse.
"…Tch."
He clenched his fist slightly.
Then a voice echoed quietly in his head.
"That was pathetic."
Tom's eye twitched immediately.
"…Not now."
The voice ignored him completely.
"You got thrown around like broken furniture."
Tom grimaced.
"…I was injured."
"You became injured because you lost."
"That thing was evolved beyond expectation."
"And?"
Tom went silent.
The voice almost sounded amused now.
"You keep making excuses like that creature cared about your circumstances."
Tom slammed his fist lightly into the nearby tree.
"…Shut up."
"You call yourself experienced?"
A pause.
Then colder—
"You failed to protect everyone."
Tom's expression darkened immediately.
The words hit harder because part of him believed them.
Meanwhile—
far across the clearing—
Alex was dealing with the exact same problem.
He was stretching slowly near a cluster of stone ruins, trying to regulate his breathing while testing the stability of his aether flow.
It felt unstable.
Uneven.
Like his body remembered fear now.
Then—
another voice echoed in his mind.
Lazy.
Mocking.
"Wow."
Alex immediately sighed.
"…No."
"You got absolutely destroyed."
"I was fighting a corrupted demon."
"And losing magnificently."
Alex rubbed his forehead roughly.
"…Can you not do this right now?"
"No, this is exactly the right time."
Alex groaned quietly.
The voice continued mercilessly.
"Arthur looked more functional than you by the end, and that boy was actively dying."
"That's not funny."
"It's a little funny."
Alex's jaw tightened slightly.
The voice lowered mockingly.
"You talked big too."
Alex stared blankly ahead.
"…I know."
"Then you got folded."
"…I know."
"Then Arthur had to keep fighting while you were unconscious."
Silence.
That one landed hard.
Alex slowly sat down on one of the broken stones nearby, exhaling sharply.
"…Yeah," he muttered quietly. "I know."
Back beneath the tree—
Tom leaned against the trunk heavily.
And despite being far apart—
both men were experiencing the exact same thing.
Not fear.
Not humiliation.
Something worse.
The realization that someone younger than them—
someone far less experienced—
had kept moving forward when they no longer could.
And neither of their inner voices intended to let them forget it anytime soon.
Beneath the towering trees of Greenmire, both men remained separated by distance—
yet somehow trapped in the same frustration.
A hundred meters apart.
Two different conversations.
Two equally bruised egos.
---
Alex sat on the broken stone with one arm resting over his knee, staring down at the faint traces of aether flickering across his fingertips.
The voice in his head still sounded unbearably entertained.
"You know, getting beaten unconscious in front of teenagers is a difficult achievement."
Alex sighed heavily.
"…You're enjoying this too much."
"Immensely."
Alex rubbed his face again.
"For the last time, most of my powers are sealed."
The voice immediately answered:
"Skill issue."
Alex's eye twitched.
"That's not how sealing works."
"You still lost."
"I was fighting at less than half capacity."
"And the creature was fighting at full violence."
Alex groaned quietly.
The voice continued mercilessly.
"Meanwhile Arthur was over there using his lifespan as fuel and still throwing hands."
"That idiot is not a normal comparison."
"Correct. He's worse."
Alex leaned his head back against the ruined stone.
"…If my abilities weren't sealed, that fight would've gone differently."
A pause.
Then the voice replied calmly:
"Maybe."
Alex frowned slightly.
That answer annoyed him more than mockery somehow.
"…What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means you're blaming the seal because it's easier than admitting you hesitated."
Silence.
Alex's expression slowly darkened.
Because deep down—
that part might've been true too.
---
Elsewhere beneath the massive dark tree—
Tom folded his arms while leaning against the trunk, his expression equally irritated.
Unlike Alex, his inner voice sounded colder.
Sharper.
More composed.
Which somehow made it worse.
"Your control slipped."
Tom frowned immediately.
"It did not."
"It absolutely did."
Tom clicked his tongue quietly.
"The only reason I lost was because I was holding back."
The voice responded instantly.
"Excuse detected."
Tom narrowed his eyes.
"I wasn't going to showcase my real abilities in front of Alex."
A pause.
Then the voice asked dryly:
"And how did hiding your abilities help exactly?"
Tom's expression twitched slightly.
"…That's not the point."
"You still got sent flying through several walls."
"That creature adapted too quickly."
"Arthur adapted faster."
Tom immediately looked annoyed.
"Why does everyone keep bringing him up?"
"Because the teenager with collapsing organs somehow performed better than you."
Tom grimaced.
"…I hate accurate criticism."
The voice continued calmly.
"You were cautious because you suspected Alex."
Tom's eyes narrowed slightly.
Because that part was true.
Something about Alex bothered him.
Not emotionally.
Instinctively.
Like there was always another layer hidden beneath whatever Alex chose to show.
Tom exhaled slowly.
"…He was hiding things too."
"Correct."
"And I don't trust that."
"Yet you expected him to trust you while you were also hiding things."
Tom went silent.
The voice almost sounded amused now.
"That's hypocritical."
"…I know."
A long pause followed.
Then both men—far apart beneath the strange skies of Greenmire—ended up arriving at the same uncomfortable conclusion.
They had both entered that battle holding pieces of themselves back.
And Arthur—
Arthur hadn't held back anything at all.
Inside the expanded shelter, the noise from training outside had faded into the background again.
The distant sounds of sparring, arguing, and Rivien's unnecessary commentary barely reached the quieter parts of the house now.
Layla sat alone near one of the upper windows, one knee pulled slightly toward her chest as she stared out at Greenmire's endless dark forest.
The atmosphere was calm.
But her thoughts weren't.
For days now, her mind had kept returning to the same moment.
Over and over again.
The collapse.
The screaming descent.
Arthur barely standing.
And her own voice—
breaking before she could stop it.
Layla closed her eyes slowly.
"…Idiot," she muttered under her breath.
Because she remembered exactly what she had said.
Not hinted.
Not implied.
Said.
"I love you."
Her grip tightened slightly against her sleeve.
At the time, everything had been falling apart so fast that thinking clearly almost felt impossible. Arthur looked like he was seconds away from dying, the descent was collapsing, and fear had crushed whatever restraint she normally had.
So the words escaped.
Raw.
Honest.
And now—
Arthur was still unconscious.
Which somehow made it worse.
Layla let out a quiet groan and leaned her head back against the wall.
"…Great."
The memory replayed again anyway.
Arthur barely conscious.
Blood on the floor.
Her heart pounding so hard she thought it would explode.
And herself kneeling beside him saying the one thing she never planned to say out loud first.
Layla covered part of her face with one hand.
"…Why did it have to happen like that…"
Part of her wished he hadn't heard it.
Another part feared he had.
And the worst part?
She didn't regret saying it.
That realization alone made her chest tighten slightly.
Layla looked toward the hallway leading to Arthur's room.
Still unconscious.
Still not awake to respond.
Her expression softened faintly despite herself.
"…You really scared me," she whispered quietly.
A faint breeze drifted through the window.
And for the first time in a while, Layla allowed herself to stop pretending those feelings weren't real anymore.
Layla remained seated by the window, silent as Greenmire's cold wind drifted through the room.
But the moment she let herself think too deeply—
the memories came back harder.
Not the confession.
Not Arthur collapsing afterward.
No.
The moment before all of it.
Her breathing slowed slightly.
Her eyes unfocused.
And suddenly—
she was back there again.
---
The seventh descent was collapsing.
The sky itself had fractured into spiraling darkness while the ground trembled violently beneath everyone's feet. Chunks of black stone floated upward unnaturally as reality broke apart around them.
The Devourer was dying.
Arthur was barely standing.
Everything smelled like ash and blood and burning aether.
Layla remembered screaming his name.
Remembered running toward him while the entire world cracked apart around them.
And Arthur—
Arthur had turned toward her weakly.
His eyes exhausted.
His body broken beyond reason.
Yet still trying to move.
Still trying to protect everyone even then.
Then came the moment she hated most.
The memory sharpened painfully.
Arthur's system warning had appeared.
A violent resonance surge.
Absolute Black spiraling out of control.
The shadows around Arthur had started consuming everything nearby indiscriminately—including him.
Layla remembered the panic instantly.
The realization.
If that power fully erupted—
Arthur would die.
And everyone around him might die with him.
So she made a choice.
A horrible one.
Her hand trembled slightly even now remembering it.
Back then, she had formed a condensed aether blade instinctively—
not aimed to kill—
but aimed to interrupt the core surge before it completely consumed him.
She remembered rushing forward.
Arthur barely conscious.
The collapsing shadows screaming around him.
And then—
the blade piercing straight through his chest.
Layla's breathing hitched slightly in the present.
Even now, remembering it hurt.
Arthur's eyes had widened faintly in shock.
Not anger.
Not betrayal.
Just surprise.
The black resonance around him had immediately destabilized afterward, collapsing inward instead of exploding outward.
It worked.
But the sight—
the feeling of her own hand pushing the blade through him—
still haunted her.
Back in the present, Layla lowered her head slightly, gripping her sleeve tighter.
"…I stabbed him," she whispered quietly.
The words sounded unreal even now.
Her chest tightened painfully.
Because despite knowing why she did it—
despite knowing it saved him—
part of her still feared what would happen when Arthur finally woke up and remembered.
Would he understand?
Would he hate her for it?
Would he look at her differently?
Layla shut her eyes tightly.
And the worst part?
The memory didn't end there.
Because right after piercing him—
right after seeing him collapse into her arms—
that was when she had broken emotionally and confessed.
The confession.
The fear.
The blood.
The collapsing world around them.
All tangled together into one memory she could no longer separate cleanly.
Layla exhaled shakily.
"…Wake up already, Arthur," she whispered softly into the empty room.
"…So I can stop thinking about it alone."
Most of the others were outside training—Lucas and Kierran arguing loudly during sparring while Tom and Alex recovered nearby and pretended not to be in pain.
That left the inside of the house unusually peaceful.
Layla sat quietly beside Arthur Ravenheart , her elbows resting lightly on her knees while she stared at his unconscious face.
The room smelled faintly of medicine, wood, and the lingering traces of aether Arthur's body still absorbed unconsciously.
Layla exhaled slowly.
"…You know," she muttered quietly, "everyone outside is somehow still alive despite being idiots."
No response.
As expected.
Still, she continued talking anyway.
"You should hear Rivien argue with Lucas. It sounds like two exhausted old men trapped in younger bodies."
A faint smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.
Then the door to the hallway opened softly.
Alexi Ravenheart stepped back inside after taking a shower.
Warm steam followed briefly behind her before fading into the room.
Her long dark hair was still damp, resting over the oversized hoodie she wore. Compared to the broken, terrified state she had been in when they rescued her, she looked healthier now.
Still tired.
Still emotionally shaken.
But alive.
Layla glanced over briefly.
"…About time," she said softly. "You were starting to look like Greenmire itself."
Alexi blinked once before giving the faintest tired smile.
"…That bad?"
"Worse."
Alexi quietly walked further into the room before her eyes immediately found Arthur again.
Like always.
The softness in her expression appeared instantly.
Layla noticed it but didn't say anything.
Alexi slowly sat down on the other side of Arthur's bed, gently brushing some damp hair behind her ear.
"…Still no change?"
Layla shook her head once.
"No."
Silence settled briefly between them.
Then Alexi lowered her gaze slightly.
"…I kept thinking," she admitted quietly, "that maybe when I came back in… he'd finally be awake."
Layla's expression softened faintly.
"…Yeah," she murmured. "Me too."
Alexi stared at Arthur quietly for another moment before speaking again.
"…He really fought that thing alone at the end?"
Layla hesitated briefly.
"…Mostly."
The memory alone made her chest tighten again.
Alexi's fingers curled slightly against the blanket near Arthur.
"…Idiot," she whispered softly.
Layla almost laughed quietly at that.
"Everyone keeps calling him that."
"Because he is."
Despite the words, Alexi's voice trembled slightly.
She looked at Arthur for a long moment before lowering her head faintly.
"…Thank you," she whispered quietly toward him again. "For coming back for me."
The room fell silent after that.
Outside, distant yelling from Lucas and Rivien echoed faintly through the trees.
Inside—
only Arthur's slow breathing answered them.