The comfortable silence lasted until Michael cocked his head slightly. "Hey, Sam. Why… why didn't you go with your aunt?"

I shot him a look. "I know I can be insufferable, dude, but to think you'd want me out of your hair even in this situation—"

"That's not what I meant!" He rubbed a hand over his face and let out a helpless chuckle. "You know, I just… I didn't think you'd stay. You didn't have to agree to risk your life. But you chose to. You chose to stay, even when you had the option to go back home safely. Why?"

I shrugged and turned my gaze forward. "I didn't want to abandon my divine body. What if the new one I'm stuck in isn't as handsome as this?"

Michael gave me a sidelong glance, then chortled. "Be serious. What… changed? Back in high school, you would've never risked yourself for someone else. So how did you change so much, so fast? What happened? Because no one changes like that overnight."

I exhaled softly, picked up a dried twig beside me, and started rolling it between my fingers. Then I used it to point into the distance, toward the top of a fallen log where Alexia was sitting cross-legged, eyes closed, posture straight but relaxed.

"You know I met her once," I said, "long before the Academy."

"Alexia? Yeah. I think I remember her mentioning that once or twice."

"Yeah," I nodded. "But did she ever tell you what happened during our first meeting?"

Michael frowned. "No. Where is this going?"

"I trapped her in a hedge maze."

My words were followed by a short, stunned silence as Michael's frown deepened. The poor guy looked genuinely aghast, and I couldn't blame him. I'd probably react the same way if someone told me that.

I continued, "I trash-talked her. Then I left her in the middle of a hedge maze. And you know what she did when I confronted her about it later, when I tried to apologize? She said apologies were unnecessary among friends."

Michael stared at me like he was deciding whether to scold me or strangle me.

"Just to be clear," he said slowly, "you trapped a blind girl. In a hedge maze."

"In my defense, it wasn't my idea."

"That is not a defense."

"Yeah," I admitted. "I figured."

He dragged a hand down his face. "So you were an asshole. That tracks. But how does that answer my question?"

I twirled the twig once more, then snapped it in half and let the pieces fall from my fingers.

Then I smiled lightly. "Despite everything I did, Michael, she called me her friend. That was the first time anyone had ever called me that without wanting something in return. Without weighing my name, my bloodline, or my usefulness. Even after I acted like a complete piece of shit, she still decided I was worth calling a friend."

Michael didn't interrupt this time.

I took a slow breath. "I'm not abandoning my friend. I decided a long time ago that I'd live without regrets. If I'd left… that would've been something I regretted later."

"That's it?" he finally asked.

"That's part of it," I shrugged. "But yeah."

For several long seconds, he stayed quiet. Then his expression softened. "Man… you really have changed a lot."

The corners of my eyes crinkled as I smiled. "You keep saying that. But you've also changed a lot. And in just as short time!"

Michael shook his head with an easy laugh. "I don't think my case counts. After all, I only changed because of Xaldreth. It wasn't my own effort."

Thump—

The smile… froze on my face. My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I could hear it pounding in my ears.

It took only a split second to understand what he was doing.

He was baiting me. Baiting me! And with the most obvious bait imaginable.

If I didn't know who he was talking about, I would've immediately asked, 'Who's Xaldreth?'

But since I did, I wouldn't risk saying his name. Because I knew it wasn't safe.

…Or was it?

In the game, Michael's willpower was absurdly high. In fact, one of the main reasons Xaldreth couldn't fully overtake his body was because he needed to grind him down mentally first.

And in time, Michael eventually learned to suppress Xaldreth with sheer will, effectively sealing the Sixth Demon Prince inside himself whenever he needed privacy.

I was sure he had done that now.

So, technically, I could say his name.

But like I said, it took me a split second to process all that.

A split second that was more than enough for Michael…

Enough to see the hitch in my breathing. Enough to catch the way my eyes sharpened for just a fraction too long. And enough to notice the hesitation written all over me.

Slowly, Michael turned his head and looked straight at me while I kept my gaze fixed forward, pointedly avoiding his.

"…You know about him," he said quietly. "Don't you?"

Well.

Fuck.

I leaned back on my hands and tilted my head toward the sky, as if admiring the canopy. "The weather's really nice tonight, huh?"

It was nice! The bleeding crimson moon and shattered sky made for quite the scenery.

But he didn't take the deflection.

"Sam," he said, keeping his voice low and careful. "I know you know who I'm talking about. The fact that you didn't ask who it was tells me everything."

I started whistling. "You ever consider that I'm just very intuitive?"

He snorted. "You're many things. Psychic isn't one of them."

Fair.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The sounds of the camp felt distant and muted, as if the world itself had decided to politely give us space.

I sighed. "So… he's not listening, I take it?"

Michael relaxed a little. "No. I recently learned how to shut him out. He doesn't like that very much, so we don't have a lot of time."

That made my spine stiffen despite myself.

I finally turned to match his gaze.

His expression wasn't accusatory. It was… cautious and curious. Maybe even a little wary.

I clicked my tongue. "Since when did you get so smart? And what now, are you going to try to kill me?"

"What?!" He yelped. "No, you idiot! Why would I kill you?"

I don't know, maybe because you murdered almost everyone who found out in the game? — was what I wanted to say.

But when I didn't answer with anything, he rolled his eyes. "You haven't exactly been subtle, Sam. You keep talking about Vaeghar and Demonic-rank entities. About how people shouldn't speak their names and all that stuff. So I started wondering if you knew about me. I was just suspicious at first… until a few minutes ago, when you asked me to teach you Essence channeling. And then I was certain."

He looked straight at me. "I've never used that technique in front of you. So how did you know about it?"

His gaze hardened.

"The answer was obvious," he continued. "You know about Xaldreth. So I'll ask you this instead, how do you know about him?"

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