The morning light filtered through the thin veil of mist that draped over Tashi Village soft, golden, and fragile, like the promise of peace after a long storm.

The mountains surrounding the valley stood still and proud, their peaks glittering faintly with dew. The cold wind carried with it the scent of earth, ash, and rebirth.

The war-torn air from days ago had faded.

Now came the faint rhythm of hammers striking wood.

Children's laughter echoed somewhere between the ruins.

It was the sound of a place learning to breathe again.

In the middle of the village square, Alaric and Selene stood side by side.

No longer in chains but still bound by guilt heavier than iron.

Their clothes were dirt-stained, their eyes hollow with exhaustion.

Each breath they took was a quiet reminder that they were still alive, still accountable.

Their trembling hands gripped the handles of shovels, calloused fingers white from strain.

They worked silently.

Lifting fallen beams. Carrying stones. Rebuilding the fences they had once destroyed.

Every motion felt like a prayer without words.

A confession spoken through labor.

From a short distance, Khael Corzedar stood at the edge of the square.

His long dark hair stirred with the morning breeze; His expression was unreadable calm, but watchful.

(They're trying… even after everything. Those two — they haven't given up on themselves.)

He turned slightly to his right, where Master Vince stood.

The older man's single arm rested across his chest, eyes half closed, his breathing slow and measured as if he could hear something beyond the silence of this place.

Khael spoke quietly, his voice barely above the whisper of wind.

"Master… do you trust them?"

Vince opened one eye, his gaze calm, unreadable.

He said with quiet empathy, "Trust isn't something given, Khael. It's something tested."

Khael nodded, his expression softening.

His eyes drifted back toward the twins.

Alaric heaved a heavy beam alone, his muscles straining until his hands bled.

Selene rushed forward instinctively.

"Alaric! Let me…"

But he shook his head, forcing a weak smile.

His voice trembled, but his resolve did not.

"You shouldn't… this is my mess, Selene."

Selene's eyes softened, sadness rippling through her words.

"Then let me clean it with you."

For a moment, the only sound was the scraping of wood and stone.

Then, faint murmurs rippled through the villagers gathered nearby.

"They're… helping?" one man whispered.

"Those twins — the ones who attacked us?" another muttered, disbelief in his tone

.

At the edge of the square, Captain Robi, the protector of Tashi, stepped forward.

His expression hard but his eyes were honest.

He watched the twins in silence, the wind tugging at the crimson cape that draped over his shoulder.

Finally, he spoke, voice deep and steady.

"If you wish to atone then rebuild. Not with your hands alone, but with your heart."

Alaric froze, his grip on the shovel tightening.

His voice was almost a whisper.

"You'd… let us? After what we did?"

Robi's gaze was unflinching.

He said with conviction, "We are not hollow, boy. We do not burn bridges — we rebuild them."

For the first time, Selene's lips quivered with something close to relief.

She blinked fast, tears threatening to spill but never falling.

She lowered her head and whispered softly, "Thank you… truly."

From behind, Ceyla Nox passed through, her dark robe rippling, the faint crackle of lightning flickering around her hand. She paused, glancing at the twins with an arched brow.

She said, voice sharp but not cruel, "Tch… don't make me regret saving your lives, twins."

Selene smiled faintly, her tone soft.

"We won't. I promise."

Ceyla's gray-black eyes narrowed as she turned away.

"Promises are cheap. Keep it with action."

The morning carried on.

The sound of hammering grew steadier.

The village of Tashi scarred, burned, but breathing began to move again.

Each swing of the twins' shovels became more than labor.

It became penance.

It became the rhythm of redemption.

From a hill overlooking the scene, Khael, Vince, Andromeda, and Juno stood silently, watching.

Andromeda whispered softly, her voice barely carried by the wind.

"Do you think they'll really change?"

Vince said, eyes never leaving the two below, "Change is never certain. But redemption… starts with a single act of sincerity."

Khael's gaze lingered on Alaric and Selene broken souls rebuilding not just walls, but themselves.

He turned, the hem of his cloak brushing the dirt as he walked away.

(They're walking their path now… just like I am.)

As the sun rose higher, the mist dissolved into light.

And for a fleeting moment, the sky above Tashi seemed brighter as if even the heavens themselves had chosen to forgive.

Night settled heavy over the ravaged plains outside Tashi, a different kind of silence than the village's peace.

This one was colder.

Sharper.

The kind that made even the stars seem distant.

Meanwhile Inside an abandoned fortress turned base, torches flickered against cracked walls. The faint hum of Shinrei crystals lit the war room in shifting shades of blue.

Ryn stood before a long table scattered with maps, bounty tags, and folded letters, all marked with the insignia of the Hollow Nine. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes… carried the quiet storm of someone who had lost more than he wanted to remember.

He traced a finger along the edge of a worn photograph tucked between the pages, the image of a young woman smiling beneath the morning sun.

His hand trembled slightly.

(Soon, sis… I'll get it — the Hollow Heart.)

(K promised he'd give it to me once I finish this mission…)

(When that happens… we can finally heal Mother's illness. You'll see. I'll make things right.)

His thoughts lingered on Mari, the faint curve of her smile, the way her voice always softened when she called his name.

A warmth that now felt galaxies away.

"Captain Ryn!"

A voice called from behind.

Ryn turned.

Sierra Vance, her crimson scarf fluttering like a dying flame, stepped forward with her usual defiant poise. Her golden eyes burned with challenge, twin daggers resting at her hips.

Beside her was Garron, the bare-chested mountain of a man with silver eyes and the Ironclad Order's emblem tattooed across his chest.

Sierra said curtly, "The scouting teams returned. The eastern ridge is clear — no Warden activity."

Garron grunted, cracking his neck.

"Good. Means less work for me."

Ryn nodded slightly, gaze still distant.

He said quietly, "You both did well. We move out at dawn, I'll brief the rest before sunrise."

Sierra tilted her head, watching him for a moment.

"You're not sleeping again, are you?"

Ryn gave a faint smirk, though it didn't reach his eyes.

"Sleep is a luxury for people without debts."

Sierra crossed her arms.

"Debts or ghosts?"

For a moment, silence hung between them.

Only the torches crackled, casting light over the scars on Ryn's hands and the faint outline of a pendant beneath his collar, etched with Mari's initials.

He said quietly, "Both."

To be continue

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