They didn't speak for a long time after Alren vanished.

The forest slowly returned to itself, as if embarrassed by what it had revealed. Trees straightened. The fractured light sank back into the soil. Night resumed its quiet breathing—but the damage lingered.

Kael sat on a fallen log, elbows on his knees, staring at the place where Alren had been.

"He didn't just recognize you," Jorah said at last. "He remembered killing you."

Kael nodded. "In his original timeline, he ordered it. In this one, the world buried the act—but not the guilt."

Eira paced, fingers flexing at her sides. "The fractures reacted to him. Not to us."

Kael looked up. "Because he's tied to my death. The world is correcting pressure points."

Jorah frowned. "Pressure points?"

"People," Kael said quietly. "Moments. Decisions that shouldn't exist if I survived."

Eira stopped pacing. "How many?"

Kael closed his eyes.

The answer rose immediately—etched into him like a scar that never healed.

"Six."

The air tightened.

Jorah cursed under his breath. "Of course it's six."

Eira knelt in front of Kael. "You're sure?"

He nodded. "I can feel them. Like… signatures in the weave. Each one anchored to the moment I died."

She swallowed. "Names?"

Kael hesitated. Saying them made them real again.

"Alren," he said first. "The one who ordered it."

Jorah's jaw clenched. "That's one."

"Liora," Kael continued. "She falsified the records. Made sure no one questioned the report."

Eira's eyes darkened. "She smiled at your funeral."

Kael didn't react. "Serik. He rerouted the guards."

Jorah let out a sharp breath. "The strategist."

"Sera," Kael said. "She spread the rumor that I betrayed the Council."

Eira's hands curled into fists. "I remember that lie."

"Vessra," Kael finished. "She sealed the escape routes."

Silence fell.

Jorah's voice was rough. "That's five."

Kael opened his eyes.

"And Kieran," he said.

Eira flinched.

"The one who held the blade."

No one spoke after that.

The fire crackled between them, throwing warped shadows across their faces. For a moment, Kael was back there again—on cold stone, blood soaking into his clothes, betrayal burning hotter than pain.

Eira broke the silence first. "They're alive in this world."

"Yes."

"And the world is reacting to them because of you."

"Yes."

Jorah leaned back, rubbing his face. "So what happens when we find the rest?"

Kael stared into the flames. "I don't know."

"That's not comforting."

"No," Kael agreed. "But it's honest."

Eira shifted closer to him. "Do you want revenge?"

The question was quiet. Careful.

Kael didn't answer immediately.

"I want…" He stopped, searching himself. "I want the past to stop reaching for my throat every time I breathe."

Jorah nodded slowly. "That I understand."

Eira studied Kael's face, as if looking for something dangerous. "And if facing them is the only way?"

Kael met her gaze. "Then I'll face them."

Not anger. Not cruelty.

Resolve.

The ground trembled again—lighter this time, but unmistakable. Kael stiffened, sensing movement through the fractures.

"They're reacting," he said. "The signatures know I'm here."

Jorah stood, weapon ready. "Good. Let them panic."

Eira glanced at Kael. "You're not alone in this."

He hesitated—then nodded. "I know."

They moved at dawn.

The first location revealed itself through distortion—a city that existed in two versions at once. Towers overlapped. Streets echoed with conversations from different days.

At the center stood an archive spire.

Eira's breath caught. "Liora."

Kael felt it too. The fracture pulsed strongest there, memory grinding against reality.

As they approached, people began to forget him again. Guards' eyes slid past Kael like he wasn't fully there. Names dissolved mid-sentence.

Until—

Liora looked up from her desk.

Her pen snapped in half.

Color drained from her face. "No," she whispered. "No, no, no—you're—"

Kael stepped forward, solid, undeniable.

"Hello," he said calmly.

The archive shook.

Outside, cracks raced up the walls of the spire like veins bursting under pressure.

Liora backed away, terror dawning. "The report said you died cleanly."

Kael tilted his head. "You wrote that report."

The world leaned in, listening.

Eira's voice was sharp. "Kael—"

He raised a hand, steady.

"This isn't revenge," he said softly, eyes never leaving Liora. "This is the truth catching up."

The fractures flared brighter.

And somewhere far beyond the city, something ancient shifted—as if it had felt Kael's choice and taken note.

The Source was watching.

Kael felt it.

But for now, he took another step forward.

"One down," he murmured.

And five truths still waiting.

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