?The air of Oakhaven no longer smelled of salt and spices. It smelled of overheated metal and despair.

  ?Etan walked with his head low, his fingers clawing at the edges of the worn hunter's cloak Tsuki had made him wear. Every step on the uneven stones of the main path was an insult to his memories. The city’s glorious white walls, those defined as "impenetrable" in historical treatises, now appeared like the rotting teeth of a slaughtered giant. Great black gashes split the sides of the fortifications, the edges of the stone fused and vitrified by a heat that no catapult could ever generate.

  ?"Don't look up, Etan," whispered Tsuki’s voice, trembling with an anxiety he felt pulsing at the base of his skull.

  ?But Etan couldn't help himself. He raised his gaze, and his breath died in his throat.

  ?Above the city, the sky was violated. Three black metal colossi, Kaelos’s battleships, floated motionless like predators in wait. They were monsters of brutal geometry, hundreds of meters long, whose resonance engines emitted a low hum—a constant vibration Etan felt deep in his teeth. Great blue glyphs glowed along the armored hulls, projecting an artificial, cold light onto the ruins below.

  ?They crossed the main gate, or what was left of it. In place of the majestic silver-oak doors, there was now a gap guarded by soldiers in heavy armor, their helmets reflecting the light of the flying ships.

  ?The smell hit him like a punch: a nauseating mixture of urine, chemical smoke, and the sickly-sweet stench of piled bodies. Along the sides of the main street, the once-elegant houses of merchants had been transformed into barracks or sorting centers. Signs of conflict were everywhere: bullet holes from magical projectiles on the facades, shattered furniture used to light makeshift fires in the alleys, and the constant, rhythmic sound of Kaelosian blacksmiths repairing slave chains.

  ?Etan felt small. His mind, once filled with theorems and maps, emptied. There was no logic in that destruction, only the demonstration of a force that did not belong to this world. He felt Tsuki’s shadow stretch nervously on the ground, merging with the soot that covered everything.

  ?A barked order in a guttural tongue stopped the line of refugees. A Kaelosian convoy advanced with a clangor of chains and old wood.

  ?Atop the cart, perched on a filthy wooden plank, sat an elf child. She couldn't have been more than eight years old, but her body appeared consumed by decades of hardship. Her arms were little more than dry twigs covered in pale, taut skin; Etan could count every single rib through the burlap tunic that hung off her shoulders like a shroud over a corpse. She was so thin that the glyph on her neck seemed disproportionate—a heavy metal brand weighing on a throat as slender as a flower stem.

  ?Etan heard a sharp hiss pierce his eardrums. It was Tsuki.

  ?The bandages wrapped around the little girl's head were stained with a yellowish serum. Beneath the cloth, the void left by severed ears created an unnatural deformity in the profile of her face. The child did not cry; she didn't even seem to have the energy to produce tears.

  ?"Etan… it burns… I feel the void… I feel the hunger…"

  ?Tsuki’s voice was an agonizing rattle. To her, that child was a black hole of suffering. Tsuki perceived the atomic weave of that tiny body and saw it fraying, weakened by malnutrition and chronic pain. Every jolt of the cart on the stones of the square made the child flinch, and every flinch was an electric shock in Etan’s brain.

  ?The little girl looked up. Her eyes, sunken in sockets too large for that gaunt face, fixed on Etan for an instant. There was an ancestral weariness in that eye contact—the awareness of one who has been reduced to mere raw material by an Empire that wastes no food on what it considers expendable.

  ?Etan was forced to look away.

  ?Etan dragged his feet into the icy shadow of a side alley, away from the clangor of the convoy. He leaned against the damp wall, panting. The hum of the flying ships above the city seemed intent on prying open his skull.

  ?"Etan… why aren't we doing anything?" Tsuki’s voice was a broken whisper, a vibration traveling up his spine. "That child… she was fading. Her weave was almost transparent."

  ?Etan passed a trembling hand over his face, feeling the black dust of Oakhaven on his skin. "And what should I have done, Tsuki? Die with her?"

  ?"She’s a child, Etan."

  ?"She’s a slave, Tsuki," he snapped back, and the hardness of his own voice startled him. He used the tone his father, the Minister, used during state dinners. "According to the Code of War I studied in the third volume of my father's library, the non-human population of annexed territories forfeits all civil rights. They become property of the occupying State. It’s… it’s the law. Kaelos won. Those elves are now legally raw material."

  ?The shadow at his feet gave a jolt of disgust. "Raw material? They have bones, Etan. They have blood that slips away. Your father's laws don't stop the pain."

  ?"My father's laws keep us from going insane!" Etan barked, immediately lowering his voice as a soldier passed the mouth of the alley. "If I start seeing human beings in every piece of meat Kaelos drags in a cage, I won't take another step. My father always said an administrator must distinguish between empathy and the stability of the system. Now we are outside the system. We are anomalies."

  ?He looked at his hands. They were dirty, pale, yet he felt that strange atomic pressure pushing to get out.

  ?"We must eat, Tsuki. If we don't eat, your perception of others' pain will kill me before the soldiers find us. We have to find a place to hide and observe how this 'new Oakhaven' works. We aren't here to free slaves. We’re here not to become one of them."

  ?Tsuki remained silent for a long moment. Then, the shadow shrank, tightening around his boots as if wanting to hide from the world. "Your father taught you many words to hide fear, Etan. But your soul is screaming exactly like that child."

  ?Etan leaned against the slimy wall of the alley, his breath reduced to an asthmatic rattle. His hands were shaking so violently that he had to squeeze the stone with both palms to keep it from falling into the mud.

  ?"Tsuki… listen to me," he whispered, and every word seemed to cost him an ounce of strength. "We’re at the limit. My heart is beating too fast and my vision is blurring. If we walk into that inn as beggars with nothing to offer, they’ll kick us out or sell us to the soldiers for a bowl of soup."

  ?"You are weak, Etan," the shadow replied, her voice an echo of pure concern vibrating in his bones. "I feel your blood flowing too fast. Stop."

  ?"We can't. We must have something of value. Without weight to throw on that counter, we have no rights." Etan stared at the gray stone. "I’ll use your strength to rewrite this stone. But I'm already hollowed out, Tsuki. I feel my mind is like a nearly consumed candle. As soon as I finish shifting the matter, my body will shut down to keep from dying. I feel it… the darkness is already at the edges of my eyes."

  ?He took a deep breath, trying to steady the tremor.

  ?"When it happens, you must be the one to keep us standing. Take the object, find the warmth of the inn, and give it to the man behind the wood. Don't speak; just get a place where we can vanish. I entrust... I entrust us to you."

  ?Etan closed his eyes and plunged his will into the stone.

  ?It was like trying to lift steel scaffolding with bare fingers. As soon as he began to force the grain of the stone to become dense and smooth, a searing pain shot through his temples. Tsuki’s body reacted to the effort, stiffening like an overloaded spring. Under Etan’s mental pressure, the limestone ceased to be dry and porous; it became a hot, oily mass, incredibly heavy.

  ?Every heartbeat sent a flash of white through his brain. Cold sweat beaded his forehead. He felt the gold nugget solidify in his palm, heavy and definitive, but the price was his consciousness.

  ?Now… it’s your turn…

  ?Etan’s mind surrendered. The curtain fell.

  ?The body didn't fall, but its posture shifted instantly. The back straightened with superhuman fluidity; the head remained tilted to the side for a second, like that of a predator waking in unknown territory. Tsuki felt the weight of the gold nugget. She didn't understand its social importance, but she felt it was the Pilot’s final command.

  ?She stepped out of the alley. Her pace was silent—a movement of shadow dressed in flesh. To her, the tavern door was a wound of light and heat in the side of the cold street. She entered.

  ?The din of the inn, the acrid smell of beer, and the fat of roasted meats washed over her. Tsuki ignored it all, heading straight for the counter, which she perceived as a warm, solid mass of wood. Without looking at the man behind it, she dropped the nugget.

  ?The heavy, unmistakable metallic clack silenced the nearest patrons. The innkeeper, a massive man with a face scarred by smallpox, stopped pouring from a jug. He stared at that dark, irregular piece of gold, then looked at the pale boy whose eyes seemed to reflect the void of the alley he had just emerged from.

  ?"Is it real?" the man murmured, reaching a hand toward the gold with a greed that made Tsuki’s shadow shudder.

  ?She didn't answer. She stood motionless, waiting for that "value" to open the path to the warmth.

  ?Every movement felt clumsy to her, limited by gravity and the density of bones. She rested the nugget on the greasy wood.

  ?The innkeeper didn't respond immediately. He pulled out a small flat stone engraved with a glyph emitting a faint yellow glow: an enchanted touchstone. He rubbed the gold against the surface. For an instant, the glyph flared with a white light—blinding, pure.

  ?The man turned pale. Color drained from his face, leaving behind a mask of pure terror. This wasn't a clipped coin or commercial gold; it was pure matter, an anomaly screaming "forbidden magic." With a convulsive movement, he covered the nugget with his pudgy hand and made it disappear into a pocket, looking around with wide eyes.

  ?"In the back. Now," he hissed, his voice reduced to a broken breath.

  ?Tsuki followed him, annoyed by the slowness of the body she now called her own. The man shoved a bowl of thick soup and a loaf of dry bread toward her before vanishing again toward the main hall, trembling like a leaf.

  ?Tsuki looked at the food. It wasn't desire; it was a calculation. She brought the spoon to her mouth. The soup was slimy, the taste of salt and fat a chemical assault that flooded her taste buds. She chewed the dry bread, feeling the hard, grainy texture scrape her throat. It was a mechanical process: inserting energy to prevent the "pilot" from vanishing entirely. As she ate, she felt the warmth of the stomach slowly spread, melting the numbness in her nerves.

  ?She leaned over the bowl, neck muscles taut. In that abrupt movement, the worn hood slipped back.

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  ?Her silver hair slid over her shoulders, reflecting the dim lantern light like a flow of lunar metal. In that hovel of mud and soot, that color was an error in reality.

  ?The silence in the main hall was not gradual. It was a clean cut.

  ?CLANG.

  ?The sound of metal conquering wood. The tavern's main door was kicked open with a violence that made the walls shake. Tsuki stopped chewing. She remained motionless, the spoon still in mid-air.

  ?She felt the step. It wasn't the tired shuffle of refugees, but the rhythmic, heavy, arrogant strike of hobnailed boots. The hum of the blue glyphs from the Kaelosian armor entered the room like a swarm of electric insects.

  ?Tsuki slowly turned her head toward the kitchen opening. Her expression was a mask of ice. She saw the black steel of the soldiers reflecting in the shadows of the room. Her hand, thin and pale, closed around the handle of the bread knife with a pressure that was anything but human.

  ?The tavern interior offered no beauty, only shelter. The walls were crusted with soot and the floor was covered in a layer of grayish sawdust, soaked in mud and spilled beer. It was a filthy place, but it had a roof, and in Oakhaven, that was enough to make it a temple.

  ?That filth was protected by Guild Jurisdiction—the only law preventing the Kaelosian soldiers from burning everything down for the sheer pleasure of seeing the flames.

  ?The two soldiers entered, their black armor clattering against the doorframe. The hum of their blue glyphs cut through the heavy air that smelled of burnt fat and sweat. They moved with the confidence of those who own the street, but who, once across that threshold, were supposed to—at least in theory—restrain their instincts.

  ?"Inspection!" one of the two shouted, shoving aside an old man trying to warm his hands around a mug. The old man fell into the dirty sawdust, remaining as still as a sack of rags.

  ?The other soldier grabbed a passing waitress by the nape of the neck, forcing her to stop. He looked at her with a sneer that promised nothing good.

  ?"Tavern-keeper!" he roared. "We’re tired of seeing this hole still standing while the rest of the city burns. Who gives you the right to stay dry?"

  ?The innkeeper emerged from the counter, wiping his hands on a gray apron. His face was a mask of tension.

  ?"You know well who, sir," he said with a firm voice. "We are under Guild Jurisdiction. This place is neutral by Imperial Clearance. If you disturb the peace, my report will reach your command before dawn."

  ?The soldier let the girl go with a shove. He stepped toward the tavern-keeper, looming over him with the mass of his black armor.

  ?"Your 'neutrality' disgusts us, rat," he hissed. "We want to see if your walls hide anything more interesting than your threats."

  ?The second soldier, to lend weight to his companion's words, delivered a violent kick to a central table.

  ?STOMP. CRASH.

  ?The soggy wood gave way. The table flipped, kicking up a cloud of dirty sawdust and splashes of sour beer. The crash silenced the entire room. The patrons kept their heads down, trying to become invisible.

  ?But in the silence that followed, someone looked up.

  ?Tsuki, sitting in the darkest corner of the back room, had turned her head toward the noise. In the movement, the worn hood slipped away, revealing what should never have existed in that dirty hovel.

  ?Her silver hair shined under the dim candlelight. They were strands of the purest metal, lustrous and alien, standing out against the soot of the wall like a blade among rags.

  ?The soldiers froze. The arrogance in their eyes shifted into a predatory curiosity, immediate and brutal.

  ?"And what’s that?" the first soldier asked, forgetting the tavern-keeper. "That’s no refugee. Look at that color…"

  ?He took his first step toward her, his iron-gloved hand outstretched to seize that silvery treasure.

  ?The Kaelosian soldier sneered, ignoring the innkeeper’s warning. He reached out his iron-gauntleted hand, fingers straining toward that silver mane shining like treasure among trash. But his hand never reached its target.

  ?A bare hand, small and stained with ink, closed around his metallic wrist.

  ?"I suggest you don't do that," said a calm, almost melodic voice. Lyra had appeared out of nowhere, interposing herself between the brute and Tsuki. Her white ash staff vibrated with a soft light. "Silver stains those with dirty souls, soldier. And your stench of mud and arrogance can be smelled for miles."

  ?The soldier’s eyes widened, surprised by the strength of that grip. "Take your hand off me, girl, or I’ll chop..."

  ?A low, deep vibration made the mugs on the tables tremble. Behind the soldier, a mountain of muscle and bony plates rose slowly. Brak, the Grogari, towered over them, his shadow swallowing the lantern light. He didn't say a word; the mere sound of his heavy breathing, like a forge bellows, was warning enough.

  ?"Move a single finger and I’ll stitch your eye to the back of your head before you can scream." Vyx’s raspy voice drifted down from the loft. The Feral Ranger was crouched on the main beam, a short bow drawn and aimed straight at the slit of the soldier's helmet.

  ?The second soldier went to draw his sword but froze when he heard a metallic ticking from the table beside him. Zobb, the gnome, was spinning a copper sphere filled with unstable vials. "Oh, please, draw it!" he exclaimed with a maniacal grin, adjusting his multi-lens goggles. "I really wanted to test if this sonic grenade can pop eardrums inside a closed helmet. Everything turns to mash, you know?"

  ?At the same instant, the squad leader felt the cold of steel against the joint of his neck, exactly where the armor was thinnest. Kael had appeared at his right like a ghost. "One false move," the Vanguard whispered with professional precision, "and we find out if your blood is as noble as your crest."

  ?From the opposite corner of the room, a harmonic hum rose in the air. Oros, the ash-feathered Aven, partially opened his wings, the scorched tips brushing the floor. "Violence in this place is a sin against the Guild," he pronounced solemnly, as an aura of dense light began to weigh on the soldiers' shoulders. "And the Guild is the only thing separating you from a mass grave."

  ?Finally, the silence was broken by the sound of a silk handkerchief being folded. Valerius stood up with aristocratic elegance, his signet ring glowing with an inquisitorial light. He took a final sip of wine and looked at the soldiers with lethal boredom.

  ?"Gentlemen," said the Leader, his voice dominating the room. "You are disturbing my ward's dinner. Now, you can leave and tell the story of how you almost started a war with us, or you can stay and never tell anyone anything ever again."

  ?The soldiers remained motionless, sweating cold inside their armor. They had been neutralized in less than three seconds by a perfect war machine.

  ?In the center of all that chaos of threats and powers, Tsuki had not moved. With her hood down and her silver hair falling over her face, she brought another spoon of soup to her mouth. She chewed slowly, analyzing that strange protective hierarchy with her alien senses.

  ?To her, it wasn't a rescue. It was the observation of a pack of predators that, for some illogical reason called kindness, had decided to adopt an anomaly.

  ?The silence that followed the closing of the door was a thin sheet of glass ready to shatter. The Kaelosian officer, before crossing the threshold, had cast one last look at Tsuki—a cold gaze that promised a ruthless hunt. Then, the darkness of the street swallowed the black metal of their armor.

  ?Lyra exhaled a breath she didn't know she’d been holding. The tension in her shoulders melted, and instinctively, she turned toward the motionless figure at the center of the table. With a smile intended as a balm, the mage closed the distance.

  ?"It’s over, little one. You're safe now, I swear," she whispered, raising her bare hand to brush a silver lock from the girl's face.

  ?But Tsuki was not "there." Her mind was still a tangle of alarm signals. When Lyra's hand entered her space, Tsuki’s body reacted on pure instinct.

  ?In the blink of an eye, the girl's arm shot upward. Her fingers clamped around Lyra's wrist with the grip of a steel trap. The dull crunch of the sleeve and Lyra’s sharp intake of breath from the sudden pain were audible.

  ?"Let her go! Now!"

  ?Vyx, the Ranger, didn't climb down the stairs; she dropped from the loft like a smudge of shadow. She landed in feline silence, and before Lyra could scream, Vyx’s short blade was already pressed against Tsuki’s throat.

  ?"I told you, Lyra," the Ranger growled, her pupils narrowed to slits of hatred. "Don't you see? There's no fear in those eyes. Only instinct. This thing will kill us all if I don't stop it now."

  ?"Vyx, no! She’s just terrified!" Lyra cried out, tears welling in her eyes from the pain in her wrist.

  ?"Terror stinks, Lyra. She doesn't smell like anything," Vyx retorted, pressing the dagger's point until a drop of blood appeared on Tsuki’s pale skin. "Let her go or I end this here."

  ?Tsuki didn't blink. Her grip on Lyra didn't waver. She watched the blade with a detached curiosity, as if it didn't belong to that body.

  ?It was then that the massive oak table jolted.

  ?Brak moved with a calm that silenced even Vyx. The stone colossus sat down, his joints grinding like stones rolling in a stream. With a solemn gesture, he unbuckled the strap of his war axe and set it on the ground with a dull thud.

  ?Without saying a word, Brak fixed his golden eyes on Tsuki. With infinite slowness, he slid his enormous hand across the table.

  ?Inch by inch, his shadow covered the girl's. Then, with an incredible gentleness for a being of his stature, he rested his palm over Tsuki’s hand, which was still savagely clutching the mage’s wrist.

  ?He didn't use force to free Lyra. He used weight. He used heat.

  ?Brak remained motionless, devoid of expression, like a mountain offering shelter from the storm. Under that constant contact, Tsuki’s instinct finally began to shut down. The tension in her muscles vanished. Her grip loosened, and Lyra withdrew her arm, massaging the bruised skin, while Vyx, uncertain, moved the blade a few inches away.

  ?In the absolute silence of the tavern, as Brak’s warmth passed into Tsuki’s cold, the unexpected happened.

  ?The girl’s face remained still, a porcelain mask devoid of all emotion. But from her left eye, a single tear emerged. It slid slowly down her cheek.

  ?Tsuki didn't move a muscle, but in that moment, the party of seven understood they had just witnessed something abnormal. Tsuki took the tear from her cheek with a finger and began to look at it as if thinking, “Did I create this?”

  ?The silence following the soldiers' retreat was heavier than their shouts. Valerius stood up, adjusting his cloak with a calm more frightening than a scream.

  ?"They won't come back alone. We have three minutes, maybe less," he said, his voice becoming the group's heartbeat. He turned to his people, and the Seven moved instantly.

  ?"Kael, clear the way. I want the alley clean."

  The dark-haired man didn't answer. He simply snapped the hidden blade in his bracer—a dry metallic sound—and vanished into the back corridor with the grace of a specter. He didn't even leave the echo of footsteps.

  ?"Vyx, rooftops. I want to know if a single cat moves within three blocks."

  The Ranger gave a flick of her wild hair and, with a grin, leapt onto an overturned table, then grabbed a ceiling beam. She pulled herself up with feline strength, disappearing into the shadows of the rafters.

  ?"Zobb, leave a little gift on the main door."

  The gnome smirked, clicking the colored lenses of his goggles. He pulled a purplish vial from his belt and wedged it into the doorframe with the care of a watchmaker. "If they try to kick it in, they'll see stars... literally!" he chuckled under his breath.

  ?"Oros, veil our scent and our sound."

  The Aven cleric bowed his head, reciting a short litany. A thin, almost invisible mist began to rise from the floorboards, enveloping the group's legs like a shroud that ate all noise.

  ?"Brak, be the last one out. If they arrive sooner than expected... crush them."

  The stone colossus planted himself in the middle of the room, arms crossed and axe resting against his leg. A deep grunt shook his massive chest. He looked like an immovable statue destined to hold up the ceiling.

  ?"Lyra, take the girl. Do not let go of her for any reason."

  The mage nodded vigorously, taking Tsuki by the hand. "Come with me, don't be afraid," she said, though her own fingers were trembling slightly.

  ?Only now, with the escape machine perfectly oiled, did Valerius turn toward the counter. The tavern-keeper stared at him with a mixture of terror and hatred. The Leader snapped his fingers. A sharp sound, like a whip-crack. With an imperious wave of his hand, he pointed to the gold nugget Tsuki had left there.

  ?The tavern-keeper, with a bitter sigh, pushed the precious metal across the greasy wood. Valerius picked it up and, with a nonchalant gesture, tossed it upward toward the beams where Vyx was stationed.

  ?A dark hand shot out from the ceiling, catching the nugget mid-air. Vyx’s face appeared for a second among the shadows, illuminated by a feral grin.

  ?"We thank you for your contribution to the cause."

  ?As Oros’s mist enveloped their steps, turning the alley into a corridor of ghosts, Valerius slowed down until he was beside Vyx. The Ranger moved in bursts, her ears strained and her hand nervously brushing the hilt of her dagger.

  ?"Vyx, speak," Valerius murmured under his breath. "What do you feel?"

  ?Vyx spat on the ground, a gesture thick with tension. "Did you see that notice in the square, Val? The one with the reward that could buy the entire city wall. A simple description: silver hair and blue eyes like gemstones. No crime, no fault. Just a list of traits."

  ?Valerius didn't answer, but his eyes remained fixed on the girl walking a few steps ahead, guided by Lyra.

  ?"Whoever wrote it knows exactly what they’re looking for," Vyx continued, her voice trembling imperceptibly. "They say it like they’re looking for a lost jewel, but I feel something else. Every time I get near her, the hair on my arms stands up like a fire is about to break out. She isn't a girl, Val. She’s a calamity. She’s a storm that hasn't decided to break yet. If we bring her to the Guild, we aren't offering a sanctuary... we’re bringing the end of everything under our roof."

  ?As Vyx’s words died in the silence of the mist, Tsuki did something that chilled the Ranger’s blood.

  ?Without stopping, without breaking her fluid and constant pace toward the darkness of the alley, the girl slowly rotated her head toward them. Her silver hair shined faintly, catching what little moonlight filtered through the clouds.

  ?She fixed her eyes—two blue gems, motionless and deep as abysses—directly into Vyx’s yellow, feral ones.

  ?There was no nod, no change in the expression of her porcelain face. She kept walking forward, but her gaze remained glued to the Ranger’s, following her as she passed. It was an immense and icy awareness, seeming to look right through Vyx’s flesh and bone, as if scanning her.

  ?Vyx stopped breathing, feeling a shiver race down her spine. It wasn't the look of a prey. It was the look of something that knew exactly it was being watched, and wasn't bothered by it at all.

  ?When Tsuki finally turned her eyes away to look back at the road ahead, Vyx took a step to the side, instinctively moving out of the girl’s range. In that moment, she was certain: the calamity wasn't coming. It was already here, walking among them in the silence.