They left before night fully settled.
No delay. No second thoughts.
The abandoned building disappeared behind them as they moved through quieter streets, avoiding crowds, staying where shadows stretched longer than light.
Aren walked ahead.
Not leading.
Sensing.
"…you're tracking something," Iris said from behind.
"…not something," Aren replied.
"…someone."
The mark pulsed faintly.
Not a warning.
A direction.
"…that doesn't sound reassuring," Iris muttered.
Aren slowed near the edge of a narrow street.
Dark. Empty.
But not silent.
"…we're being followed," he said.
Iris didn't react outwardly, but her stance shifted.
"…how many?"
Aren focused.
Listening. Feeling.
"…two… no… three."
Footsteps followed.
Soft. Controlled.
They stepped into view.
Three figures.
Not in black.
Not in white.
Different.
"…you noticed us faster than expected," one of them said, a faint smile on his face.
Aren turned fully.
"…you've been following us."
"…observing," the man corrected.
Iris stepped beside Aren.
"…state your purpose."
Another one chuckled lightly.
"…direct. I like that."
The third stayed silent.
Watching.
"…we're not here to fight," the first said.
Aren didn't lower his guard.
"…then leave."
A pause.
"…we can't."
The air shifted.
Subtle.
Tense.
Iris's eyes narrowed.
"…then you're wasting time."
The man raised a hand slightly.
"…relax. If we wanted to take you, this wouldn't be a conversation."
Aren's gaze didn't change.
"…then what do you want?"
Silence.
Then—
"…to see."
Aren frowned slightly.
"…see what?"
The smile faded.
"…whether you're worth it."
The words hung in the air.
Iris's voice dropped.
"…worth what?"
The silent one finally spoke.
"…saving."
Aren's eyes narrowed.
"…I don't need saving."
A quiet chuckle.
"…that's what makes you interesting."
A pause.
"…you've been noticed," the man continued.
"…not just by hunters."
Aren stayed silent.
"…there are others," he said.
"…groups that don't collect… they decide."
Iris's expression hardened.
"…you're one of them."
He didn't deny it.
"…we observe anomalies," he said.
"…and decide what they become."
Aren's gaze sharpened.
"…I decide that."
A brief silence.
Then—
"…we'll see."
Without warning, he moved.
Fast.
Not attacking.
Testing.
Aren reacted instantly.
Their movements clashed.
A strike—
Blocked.
A shift—
Countered.
A brief exchange.
Then they separated.
Silence returned.
"…good," the man said.
"…you're adapting."
Aren said nothing.
"…but not enough."
Iris stepped forward.
"…we're done here."
The man raised his hand again.
"…relax. We're not your enemies."
A pause.
"…not yet."
The third figure stepped forward slightly.
"…you're unstable," they said to Aren.
"…but not gone."
Aren didn't react.
"…so?"
A moment passed.
"…we'll be watching."
The air shifted.
And then—
They were gone.
No sound.
No trace.
Just absence.
Silence settled again.
Iris exhaled slowly.
"…I don't like that."
Aren didn't move.
"…they're different."
"…yeah," Iris replied.
"…and more dangerous."
Aren looked at the empty space.
"…they're not here to take."
A pause.
"…they're here to judge."
Iris crossed her arms.
"…which is worse."
Aren turned and started walking again.
"…doesn't matter."
His voice was steady.
"…I'll decide what I become."
Iris followed.
This time—
Without arguing.
Because something about that—
Felt real.
Far away, hidden from sight, the three figures stood once more.
"…he's not ready," one said.
"…no," the first replied.
"…but he will be."
A pause.
"…and when he is?"
Silence.
"…then we choose."
Back in the city, Aren's mark pulsed once.
Not a warning.
Not a command.
Something deeper.
And somewhere within—
Something answered.