Velmyn let out a slow breath, irritation flickering across his face when Neo didn't calm. He rolled his shoulders, the movement almost human in its awkwardness.
"Gods," he muttered, "you'd think I'd just drawn a blade on you."
He tried to smile again, lighter this time. "Relax. I don't bite. Not without reason."
Neo didn't move.
His hand drifted down without conscious thought, fingers curling around the worn leather of his sword's hilt beneath his coat. The pressure steadied him a reminder that he wasn't unarmed, that he still had something.
Velmyn noticed.
His smile didn't change but his eyes flicked down for the briefest instant before returning to Neo's face.
Velmyn's smile faded. He watched Neo for a moment longer, then sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Alright. That one was a bad joke." He glanced aside, then back. "Sorry. I forget sometimes that not all of us grew up knowing what we were. Or who we were surrounded by."
The apology only half-landed. The fear in Neo's chest didn't ease but it stopped tightening further.
Velmyn straightened. "So," he said, quieter now, "what do you want?"
Neo blinked. "What?"
Velmyn's eyes sharpened. "You heard me." He gestured vaguely to the shelves, the crowd beyond the walls. "Why are you here?"
Neo hesitated, words tangling in his throat. Before he could answer, Velmyn chuckled softly.
"Actually let me ask it properly." He leaned in just enough to lower his voice. "Who do you want to help?"
Neo frowned despite himself. "What kind of question is that?"
"The only one that matters," Velmyn replied. "You want to help them?" His gaze flicked toward the shop floor, toward the cheering crowd outside. "The humans who would put a blade in your spine the moment they realized what you are. The same ones who burn our kind out of their cities and call it 'cleansing'?"
Neo's pulse hammered. "They're being killed," he shot back. "Right now. People are dying because of this because of you."
Velmyn's expression hardened. "And you think that started today?"
He shook his head slowly. "They began this long before you or I ever drew breath. Before you ever learned to hide your eyes. Before I learned to stop caring when they screamed."
Neo clenched his fists. "That doesn't make it right."
"No," Velmyn agreed. "It makes it inevitable."
His gaze slid back to Neo, assessing, almost curious. "You talk like a Nephilim. Like one of them would." A pause. "Or dress like one."
Neo stiffened.
Velmyn's eyes flicked over him his posture, the way he held himself, the restraint threaded through every movement. "Careful. Acting like them won't make you one and it certainly won't save you."
The words settled heavy between them, not shouted, not threatening just spoken like a fact Velmyn assumed Neo would eventually accept.
Somewhere beyond the wall, glass clinked and the crowd cheered again.
And Neo realized, with a cold clarity, that Velmyn wasn't trying to recruit him.
He was trying to decide what kind of problem he was.
Velmyn went quiet.
Not the attentive, listening quiet of a clerk waiting for an answer but the kind where his eyes unfocused slightly, as if part of him had stepped elsewhere. His head tilted a fraction, lips parting, then pressing together again. For a heartbeat, Neo could almost feel the argument happening behind those purple eyes.
Finally, Velmyn exhaled.
"Hm," he said. "That complicates things."
Neo swallowed. "What does?"
Velmyn looked back at him, expression unreadable now. "The Kruul King doesn't want you dead."
The words hit Neo wrong not like a threat, not like relief. Like a statement that simply did not fit into the world he understood.
"The… what?" Neo asked. "Why would the King even know who I am?"
Velmyn blinked once. Then, slowly, his mouth curved into a smile that was sharp with amusement.
"Oh," he said softly. "He doesn't know you."
Neo's stomach tightened.
"But," Velmyn continued, eyes glittering, "he does know you."
Neo's thoughts raced. "That doesn't make sense."
Velmyn studied him for a long moment, then let out a quiet laugh. "You really don't know, do you?"
Neo stiffened. "Know what?"
Velmyn's gaze flicked briefly toward the aisle behind them, then back. "Thal never told you."
That name spoken so casually made Neo's breath hitch.
"How do you "
Velmyn raised a finger. "Ah." His smile widened. "That part? I think I'll keep it to myself."
Neo's heart pounded. "Why?"
"Because," Velmyn said lightly, "it's much funnier this way."
Before Neo could respond, Velmyn stepped back, already retreating into the flow of workers and customers. "We'll be seeing each other again, young Voth," he added over his shoulder. "Sooner than you'd like."
He paused, then glanced back with a grin. "And tell Tar I said hello. Drinking with him was… memorable. I do enjoy competition."
The blood drained from Neo's face.
Tar. He had been watching them. Not just here. Long enough to know about the tavern, about the drinking, about Tar.
Velmyn turned away, melting into the crowd with unsettling ease.
Neo stood frozen, trying to steady his breathing.
Then a voice spoke directly behind him.
"Really," it said, conversational. "You should relax."
Neo spun.
Another worker stood there broader shoulders, darker hair, heavier build. Different clothes. Different face.
Same eyes.
Black sclera. Bright purple iris.
Velmyn.
It took Neo a heartbeat to realize why his arm felt wrong.
His hand was still clenched around the hilt of his axe.
And Velmyn's hand was already there.
Not grabbing. Not forcing. Just resting over Neo's fingers, casual as a friend's, warm and certain, thumb settling lightly against his knuckles.
He continued speaking as if nothing had changed, picking up the thought seamlessly. "Panic draws attention and attention gets people killed."
Neo's voice barely worked. "You… there were…"
"Yes," Velmyn said, smiling. "Multiplicity." He leaned in slightly. "You see now why running wouldn't help."
Neo's chest felt tight, like the air had thinned. "What do you want from me?"
Velmyn tilted his head, considering. "Right now? Nothing."
"That's not reassuring."
"It shouldn't be," Velmyn replied pleasantly. "Think of this as… an introduction. A courtesy." His eyes flicked briefly toward the corridor Alinda had vanished into. "You're under protection. For the moment. That buys you time."
"For what?"
Velmyn's smile faded just a touch. "To decide who you are." He straightened, stepping back into the aisle. "Enjoy your shopping," he said lightly. "And do try not to look so haunted. People notice that."
As he turned away, the second Velmyn vanished into a side passage leaving no trace that he'd ever been there.
Neo stood alone between shelves of miracles and lies, heart hammering, the echo of Velmyn's words ringing in his skull.
The Kruul King doesn't want you dead and worse Thal never told you.
For the first time since entering Black Hollow Remedies, Neo wasn't just afraid.
He was being positioned.
Neo's heart slammed so hard he thought someone nearby would hear it.
Each beat felt too loud, too sharp, thudding against his ribs like it was trying to escape him. His breath came shallow despite his effort to slow it, and he forced his shoulders to relax, forced his hands to unclench. Panic would draw eyes. Velmyn had said that. Panic draws attention.
He swallowed and stared at the shelf in front of him as if the labels mattered, as if the glass vials weren't blurring at the edges of his vision.
Multiplicity.
The word replayed in his head, ugly and precise. Two Velmyns. Two bodies. One mind. Standing behind him, ahead of him, anywhere Velmyn wanted to be. The thought made his skin crawl. There was nowhere in this building maybe nowhere in this city where Velmyn couldn't already be watching.
And he knew about Tar. About the tavern. About Thal.
Neo's pulse spiked again.
How long has he been watching us?
He dragged in a deeper breath through his nose, slow, measured, the way Thal had taught him. In for four. Hold. Out for six. Again. The pounding in his chest didn't stop but it dulled just enough that he could think past it.
The Kruul King doesn't want you dead.
That sentence didn't comfort him. It frightened him more than a threat would have. Being wanted alive meant being useful. Being placed.
His fingers brushed unconsciously over his chest, over the gem hidden beneath his clothes, as if grounding himself there might keep him from unraveling. Alinda was somewhere inside this maze of rooms. Thal was miles away, busy with plans and wars and decisions that were apparently tangled with Neo's existence in ways he didn't understand.
Thal never told you.
That hurt more than Neo expected.
Not because Thal had secrets he always did but because Velmyn had said it like a joke. Like leverage. Like a truth Neo had been deliberately kept from, not for safety but for timing.
A laugh rippled through the shop somewhere nearby. Coins clinked. Someone thanked an attendant with reverence thick in their voice. The normalcy of it all felt unreal now, like a painted backdrop hiding something vast and predatory behind it.
Neo stayed where he was, exactly where Alinda had left him. He didn't move. Didn't run. Didn't look for exits.
Because Velmyn was right about one thing.
Running would mean choosing blindly.
And whatever game had started around him, Neo had the sinking feeling that the worst thing he could do right now was make the wrong kind of move.
Neo almost jumped out of his skin when a hand tapped his shoulder.
He sucked in a sharp breath, heart lurching, and spun halfway before he realized who it was. "Gods!!" he choked, forcing the rest of the word down as Alinda came into view.
She blinked, genuinely surprised. "Whoa. Easy." Her eyes narrowed slightly, taking him in. "You, okay?"
Neo wasn't. Not really. His pulse was still racing, his hands cold, the echo of Velmyn's voice crawling through his thoughts. He swallowed hard. "It was… it was the Archon."
Alinda's expression changed instantly.
Not disbelief. Not confusion.
Shock.
For a heartbeat she didn't speak, crimson eyes flicking over his face, then past him, scanning the aisle, the shadows between shelves, the workers moving with practiced calm. Her jaw tightened.
"Which one," she asked quietly.
"Threads," Neo said. "He talked to me. Twice."
Alinda went very still.
Fuck.
The word rang through her head, sharp and immediate. She'd been careful or so she'd thought. Careful enough and yet she'd left Neo alone for minutes in a place that was practically designed for an Archon like that.
Did I just walk him straight into a web?
She exhaled slowly, forcing the spike of anger and guilt back down where it wouldn't show. Neo didn't need to see that right now. "And you're sure?" she asked, keeping her voice even.
Neo nodded. "He knew about Thal. About Tar. He said the Kruul King doesn't want me dead." His voice wavered despite his effort. "And he said Thal never told me something. I don't know what he meant."
Alinda closed her eyes for half a second.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
She opened them again, already making the call. "Alright," she said, tone decisive. "That's enough shopping."
She rested a hand on Neo's shoulder, firmer now, grounding. "You did exactly what you were supposed to do. You didn't panic. You didn't run. You waited."
Neo searched her face. "You're… not mad?"
"No," she said honestly. "I'm mad at myself."
That earned her a confused look but she didn't elaborate. There would be time for that later. Maybe.
She glanced toward the back corridors one last time, memorizing exits, angles, faces. Whatever she'd come here for, she'd gotten enough. More than enough.
"We're leaving," she said. "Now."
She guided Neo back toward the entrance, already scanning for Tar and Sera outside. As they moved, another thought followed close on the heels of the first, heavy and unavoidable.
Thal is going to have words.
Very loud ones.
And this time, she wouldn't even argue that he was wrong.
Alinda didn't let go of Neo's hand.
She threaded her fingers through his with quiet certainty, grip firm without being crushing, and guided him back toward the front of the shop. Neo followed a half-step behind her, trying to keep his breathing steady, trying not to look like he was about to bolt. Every shadow between the shelves felt occupied now. Every worker felt like they might be someone else wearing a familiar face.
The warmth of her hand was the only thing anchoring him.
They passed the counters where coins were being counted and bottles exchanged, the low murmur of gratitude and relief filling the space. A woman laughed shakily as she tucked a vial into her coat. A man clutched his purchase like a relic. No one noticed the boy being quietly extracted from the middle of it all.
Almost at the door, a young worker stepped slightly into their path not blocking them, just close enough to be acknowledged. Neo's heart kicked again, sharp and sudden, his grip tightening instinctively around Alinda's fingers.
"Thank you for visiting Black Hollow Remedies," the worker said pleasantly. "We hope your experience was satisfactory."
Neo froze for half a heartbeat.
His eyes flicked up, searching for black sclera, for that impossible purple gleam. The worker's eyes were normal. Brown. Boring. Human.
Still, Neo couldn't make his voice work.
Alinda answered for him, smooth and effortless. "Thank you," she said, tone polite, unremarkable. "We'll keep it in mind."
The worker smiled, already turning away, interest gone as quickly as it had appeared.
Only when the door opened and daylight spilled in did Neo realize how tightly he'd been holding his breath.
They stepped outside.
The noise of the street rushed back in vendors calling, distant laughter, the scrape of carts over stone. Tar straightened immediately when he saw them, massive frame shifting as he made space. Sera hovered nearby, worry etched plainly across her face.
Alinda didn't slow until they were a few steps clear of the entrance. Only then did she release Neo's hand, though her palm lingered at his wrist for a moment longer, grounding.
"You good?" she asked quietly.
Neo nodded, though his pulse was still racing. "Yeah. I think so."
She studied him for a beat, then gave a small, sharp nod. "Good. Because we're not sticking around."
She glanced back once at the shopfront, expression unreadable now no fury, no humor, just intent. Whatever she'd come here for, it was done. Whatever she'd found, it was worse than expected.
As they moved away, Neo couldn't shake the feeling that eyes were still on them not from the street but from somewhere deeper inside the building. Somewhere with many faces.
Alinda walked a little closer to him as they went, a silent promise in her posture.
Whatever game had just brushed up against Neo's life, she wasn't letting him face the next move alone.
They didn't rush but Neo couldn't shake the urge to.
The streets felt narrower now, like the buildings had leaned in while they were gone. Every passerby seemed louder, closer, every laugh just a bit too sharp. Neo walked beside Alinda, Sera hurrying a few steps ahead, Tar's heavy footfalls steady behind them. He found his hand drifting to the hilt of his axe without thinking, fingers curling around the familiar grip until the leather creaked softly under his palm.
Alinda noticed but didn't comment. She just stayed close enough that her shoulder brushed his now and then, a quiet reassurance.
Sera's shop came into view at last, small and unassuming between its neighbours, the sign swaying faintly in the breeze. Relief flickered across Sera's face, brief but genuine. She stepped up to the door immediately, already fishing her keys from a pocket in her robes.
She had to rise onto her toes to reach the lock, stretching slightly as she fumbled with it. The movement made her seem even smaller than she already was, a sharp contrast to the tension coiled in her shoulders. Her hands shook just enough that it took her a second longer than usual to line the key up properly.
"Sorry," she muttered, more to herself than to anyone else.
"It's fine," Alinda said, calm, watching the street behind them rather than the door. "Take your time."
Tar stopped a few paces back, exactly where he always did. He didn't complain, didn't sigh, just settled into place like a living wall of muscle and horn. His presence alone blocked the view into the alley behind them, and more than one passerby gave him a wide berth without quite knowing why.
Neo glanced back at Tar, then at the rooftops, then at the windows opposite the shop. Nothing moved. Nothing obvious. That didn't help.
The lock finally clicked.
Sera let out a breath she'd clearly been holding and pushed the door open, the familiar scent of herbs, alcohol, and old wood spilling out into the street. She stepped inside first, already moving to light the interior lamps.
Alinda gestured Neo in ahead of her. "Go on."
Neo hesitated only a fraction of a second before stepping over the threshold. As soon as he was inside, the door closed behind them with a soft but decisive sound. The street noise dulled instantly, replaced by the quieter creaks and hums of the shop.
Outside, Tar remained where he was, broad shoulders squared, eyes forward.
Inside, Neo loosened his grip on his sword just a little but not all the way.
They didn't speak much on the way back.
Neo walked with his shoulders tight, every sound in the street feeling sharper than it had before. His hand never left the hilt of his axe, fingers curled around it hard enough that his knuckles ached. He didn't draw it didn't even loosen it but the weight of it grounded him, a reminder that he wasn't empty-handed in a city that suddenly felt very hostile.
Sera hurried ahead of them, glancing back every few steps as if expecting someone to follow. When they reached her shop, she fumbled slightly with the keys, rising onto her toes to reach the upper lock, muttering under her breath as the metal finally clicked free.
Tar stopped short, as always, positioning himself just outside the doorway. He leaned back against the wall, massive arms crossing over his chest, horns angling just enough to keep the street in view. Sentinel mode silent, absolute.
Inside, the door shut.
The moment it did, Neo's legs gave out.
He sank to his knees hard, one hand bracing against the floorboards, the other still gripping his axe as his breath came in ragged, uneven pulls. His vision swam. The room felt too small, the air too thick, like it was pressing in on him from all sides.
Sera gasped. "Neo ?" She rushed a step closer, hands hovering uselessly. "Is he should I ?"
"He's fine," Alinda said quickly, though her tone softened as she moved closer to him. "He just needs space."
Sera hesitated, clearly torn between instinct and trust. "He doesn't look fine."
"I know," Alinda replied. She crouched down near Neo but didn't touch him, giving him room to breathe, to steady himself. "That wasn't a small thing he just ran into."
Neo squeezed his eyes shut, forcing air into his lungs the way Thal had taught him. In. Hold. Out. Again. His heart still raced but slowly the edge dulled.
"I didn't run," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.
Alinda's lips curved faintly. "No. You didn't."
Sera stepped back a pace, wringing her hands. "I'll uh I'll make some tea," she said weakly, mostly to give herself something to do.
Alinda nodded without looking up. "Good idea."
Neo stayed where he was, knees on the floor, sword finally resting beside him as his grip loosened. The shop was quiet, safe for now. Outside, Tar shifted slightly, blocking the door without ceremony.
And for the first time since leaving Black Hollow Remedies, Neo could breathe again even if the echo of purple eyes and too-many-voices still lingered in the back of his mind, waiting.
Sera busied herself at the small counter, hands shaking just enough to rattle the cups as she measured out herbs. She kept glancing back toward Neo, who was still on the floor, shoulders rising and falling as he worked his breathing back under control. The kettle began to hiss, a thin, reassuring sound that filled the shop with something close to normal.
Alinda straightened and moved to the worktable in the centre of the room. Without ceremony, she set a small vial down on the scarred wood.
It was darker than the others Sera kept glass smoked almost black, the liquid inside thick and slow, like blood that had forgotten how to flow. Faint runes were etched near the lip, so fine they were easy to miss unless you knew what you were looking for.
Sera turned, tea forgotten for half a second.
"That's it?" she asked, staring. "That's the potion?"
Alinda nodded. "That's one of them."
Sera frowned, wiping her hands on her robe as she stepped closer. "But that's… that's not right." She leaned in, peering at the glass. "Tier three is the highest Black Hollow sells. That's what they advertise. That's what they swear by."
Her eyes flicked up to Alinda, suspicion and awe mixing uneasily. "There isn't a tier above three."
Alinda's mouth curved, not quite a smile. "There is. They just don't tell you."
Sera swallowed. "Then what is that?"
"A refined strain," Alinda said calmly. "More concentrated. More… honest about what it does."
Sera's hands curled into the fabric of her sleeves. "That shouldn't exist," she whispered. "If something like that got out…"
"It already has," Alinda cut in. Her voice wasn't sharp, just certain. "Just not with a label attached."
Sera looked back at the vial, then toward Neo again. He had shifted now, sitting back on his heels, one hand pressed to his chest as if making sure his heart was still there. The memory of the demonstration outside bone knitting, flesh crawling back into place flashed through her mind, followed by the screaming girl.
"And you're telling me," Sera said slowly, "that what they're selling out there is watered down?"
"Yes."
Sera laughed once, short and hollow. "Gods."
She reached out, then stopped herself, fingers hovering inches from the vial as if it might bite her. "I thought tier three was already dangerous. I've seen people shake for days after taking it. Fevers. Mood swings. Things they don't report." Her voice dropped. "You're saying there's something stronger being made on purpose."
Alinda's eyes flicked briefly to Neo before returning to Sera. "I'm saying someone decided the risk was acceptable."
The kettle began to boil in earnest, steam fogging the air. Sera turned back to it on instinct, pouring the water with more force than necessary. "Acceptable for who?" she muttered.
She carried the cup over and set it down near Neo, careful not to crowd him. Then she returned to the table, looking at the vial again as if it had rearranged the world while she wasn't watching.
"How do you even know about this?" she asked quietly.
Alinda didn't answer right away. She rested her palm flat on the table beside the vial, fingers splayed, claiming the space without touching it. "Because I've seen what happens when people pretend this kind of power is harmless."
Sera nodded slowly, dread settling in her stomach. "Then Black Hollow isn't just selling medicine," she said. "They're selling something they don't understand."
Alinda met her gaze. "They understand enough."
That, more than anything else, made Sera afraid.
Alinda didn't announce what she was about to do. She simply reached beneath her cloak and drew out a small, clear glass bottle, clean and empty, the kind alchemists used for separation tests. She set it beside the darker vial and uncorked the Black Hollow potion.
The liquid moved reluctantly. It did not pour so much as slide, a viscous sludge that clung to the glass as if resisting being divided. Alinda tilted the vial with care, watching the way it stretched before finally breaking, a slow ribbon sinking into the empty bottle. The sound it made was wrong too thick, too heavy for something meant to heal.
Sera watched, holding her breath.
She sealed the original vial and set it aside, then lifted the new bottle and turned it slightly, studying the contents. The potion inside was darker now for having been disturbed, almost opaque, as if light itself struggled to pass through it.
Then, without hesitation, Alinda bared one of her fangs and pressed it to the pad of her thumb.
The cut was clean. Blood welled immediately, bright and alive, far too vivid against her pale skin. Neo stiffened where he sat, instinct flaring but Alinda didn't even flinch. She held her hand over the bottle and let a single drop fall.
The blood struck the surface and did not mix.
For a heartbeat, it hovered there, suspended like oil on water. Then something began to happen.
The red drained.
Not diluted. Not spread. Drained pulled inward, as though the potion itself were starving. The bright crimson dimmed, darkening rapidly as it was drawn down into the sludge, leaving behind a thin, colourless trace at the surface.
Sera's breath caught. "That's… not how reagents behave."
Alinda watched closely, eyes narrowed, jaw tight. "No," she agreed. "It's how a vessel behaves."
The potion shifted again, a subtle internal motion, as if something within it had stirred and then settled, satisfied. Whatever separation there had been was gone. The blood had vanished completely.
Alinda straightened slowly, thumb already healed, though the faintest smear of red remained on her skin. She did not comment on it.
Her theory unspoken had just solidified.
Berserker blood. Not harvested cleanly. Not willingly given. Taken at the brink, when the body was tearing itself apart and the blood was thick with survival, rage, and whatever else came with standing half a step from death. Stripped of context. Bottled. Sold.
She exhaled through her nose and reached again beneath her cloak.
This time, she produced another vial.
It was unmistakably different. The glass was reinforced, etched with containment sigils old enough that Sera didn't recognize them. The liquid inside was brighter, a deep, luminous red that seemed to hold light rather than absorb it. It was just as thick as the Black Hollow potion but it moved with intent, swirling faintly even while still.
Sera stared. "That's… yours."
"Yes."
Neo looked up sharply. "Alinda…"
She didn't stop. She set the vial beside the other two, the contrast unmistakable. Where the Black Hollow potion felt deadened, hungry, wrong, this one radiated a quiet pressure, like a coiled muscle at rest.
Alinda uncorked it and poured a small measure into a second empty bottle, careful, precise. The liquid flowed more cleanly, still viscous but obedient, as if it understood restraint.
She brought the two bottles close together, holding them side by side.
"Look," she said, not unkindly.
Sera leaned in despite herself.
The difference was immediate. The Black Hollow mixture dulled the light around it, edges blurring slightly as if reality didn't want to linger near it. Alinda's vial, by contrast, sharpened everything nearby. The table grain looked clearer. The runes on the glass seemed to settle, content.
"These are not the same thing," Sera whispered.
"No," Alinda said. "They're cousins at best."
She took the bottle containing the Black Hollow potion tainted with her blood and, carefully, added a single drop from her own vial.
The reaction was violent.
The mixture convulsed, the contents churning as if something inside recoiled. For a split second, the glass grew hot beneath Alinda's fingers. Then the motion stopped abruptly, leaving a cloudy, unstable swirl that refused to settle.
Sera stepped back. "That shouldn't… Alinda, that shouldn't do that."
Alinda recorked the bottle and set it down firmly. "It shouldn't exist in the first place."
She finally looked at Sera, expression grave. "What they're selling is derived from something like me but it's incomplete. Broken and whatever fills the gaps isn't human."
Neo's stomach twisted. He glanced at the vial, then at Alinda. "So the people getting sick…"
"Are taking in something their bodies were never meant to hold," Alinda finished. "Some survive. Some don't. Some…" Her eyes flicked briefly to the memory of blood-soaked streets and torn bodies. "…change."
Sera hugged herself, suddenly cold. "And the Rupture?"
Alinda didn't answer right away. She looked down at the three bottles lined up on the table, each representing a different truth.
"Someone is either using this," she said finally, "or reacting to it."
Neither option sat well.
She recorked her own vial last and slipped it back into her cloak, movements slower now, more deliberate. "Either way," she added quietly, "Black Hollow isn't just a shop."
Neo swallowed, the weight of it settling in his chest.
It was a warning.
And it was only the beginning.
Alinda dragged a hand down her face, fingers pressing hard at her brow and eyes, the gesture sharp with frustration. For a moment she stood there like that, shoulders tense, breathing measured, as if keeping something much uglier locked behind her ribs.
Then she straightened.
Without ceremony, she reached for the two bottles on the table the altered Black Hollow vial and the separated sample she had poured herself. She weighed them briefly in her hands, as though gauging not their mass but the trouble they represented and then slipped both into the inner pockets of her cloak.
"These come with me," she said, voice flat.
Sera nodded, too shaken to argue. Her gaze flicked instead to the remaining vial the brighter red one Alinda had brought out last, still sitting alone on the table like a quiet heartbeat.
Alinda followed her eyes. She hesitated, then pushed the vial toward Sera with two fingers.
"That one stays," she said. "If things go bad. If you need me and can't find me." Her mouth twitched, humourless. "Just break it."
Sera stared at the vial. "That's… it?"
Alinda nodded once. "I'll know."
There was no explanation of how. None was needed.
Sera's fingers hovered before she finally wrapped them around the glass, holding it like something sacred and dangerous all at once. "I won't use it lightly," she promised.
"I know," Alinda said. That, at least, sounded genuine.
She turned toward Neo then, her expression softening just a fraction. He was back on his feet now, though his hand still hovered near the hilt of his axe, knuckles pale. She gave him a brief look checking, measuring and seemed satisfied enough.
"Hey," she said quietly. "You're alright."
He nodded, though it was clear he wasn't entirely sure that was true.
Alinda didn't push. She rarely did when it mattered.
She moved for the door, already pulling her hood up, the weight of the two vials at her chest unmistakable. At the threshold, she paused and glanced back at Sera one last time.
"Close up early tonight," she said. "And don't trust anything that promises to fix people fast."
Sera swallowed. "I won't."
Alinda gave a short nod and stepped out into the street, Neo close behind her. The door shut softly, leaving the shop quieter than it had any right to be.
Sera stood there for a long moment, the vial warm in her palm, staring at the place where Alinda had been aware, with a sudden and chilling clarity, that she was now holding a promise meant for the worst possible day.