Knight and woman both looked toward Shura.
But Shura barely noticed either of them.
His gaze remained distant, unfocused somewhere beyond the ruined shop and the humming walls of Ossuarium itself.
The ringing in his ears had faded, yet something heavier remained behind.
Fragments circled endlessly through his thoughts.
Black veins.
Smoke leaking from flesh.
The man begging not to die.
And beneath all of it—
Osiris.
Shura lowered his head slightly.
"…People around me keep getting hurt," he murmured.
The words came quietly.
Not self-pity. Recognition.
His fingers tightened weakly against the floorboards beside him.
"I still can't even find the way back."
Silence settled after that.
The shop felt strangely hollow now. Some shelves stood broken. Torn cloth hung loosely from splintered racks. Beacon-light spilled faintly through the fractured front window, stretching warped reflections across the floorboards.
Then suddenly—
A heavy hand settled against Shura's shoulder.
The Knight shook him lightly twice.
"Hey."
Shura blinked once.
The room slowly returned around him again.
The woman instinctively stepped closer too, but the Knight raised one hand slightly without looking away from Shura.
"Rest," he told her calmly.
She ignored him anyway.
By the time Shura finally looked up properly, the Knight stood much closer than before.
Close enough to notice details armor usually hid.
The visible eye beneath the visor looked exhausted.
Not ordinary tiredness.
The kind carried by people who only slept when their body finally forced them to.
Faint darkness rested beneath the eye. Tiny scratches marked the edges of the visor. Even the armor itself carried signs of repeated repairs—dull weld-lines hidden beneath polished steel.
His posture remained disciplined.
But now Shura noticed the strain buried underneath it.
As if incidents like this weren't rare.
As if the Knights dealt with this constantly.
The woman glanced toward Shura's swollen face and quietly lowered her eyes.
"…Sorry," she said softly.
Shura gave a faint shake of his head.
Before either of them could speak again, the Knight spoke first.
"You need to forget what happened here."
His voice remained calm, though something firmer rested beneath it now.
"If this spreads publicly, people panic."
A brief pause followed.
"You understand that, right?"
Shura slowly turned his head toward where the corrupted man had collapsed earlier.
Then stopped.
The body was gone.
No sound. No visible removal.
Just absence.
Only faint black smears remained across the floorboards, almost hidden beneath the shadows near the doorway.
The woman noticed too.
Her expression tightened slightly.
"But why?" she asked quietly. "If people knew about this… wouldn't they stop?"
The Knight turned his head toward the cracked window.
For the first time, his voice carried genuine weight behind it.
"You still don't understand anything yet."
Silence followed.
"And I'm warning you," he continued quietly, "don't rush to understand."
The room became still again.
The woman folded her arms slowly.
"…People already know something's wrong," she said after a moment.
Her eyes drifted toward the black-tinted glass.
"They just pretend not to see it."
Then toward the ruined shelves.
"We don't need every secret."
Her voice lowered slightly.
"But people deserve something real."
A pause.
"About Viora."
Another pause.
"And about what exists outside these walls."
The Knight remained motionless.
Only the distant mechanical hum of Ossuarium filled the silence between them.
Then unexpectedly—
Shura laughed softly.
Both of them looked toward him.
"I thought you only cared about examining rare clothes," he said.
The woman blinked once before letting out a tired breath that almost became a smile.
"…That too."
The tension loosened slightly.
Only slightly.
The Knight looked back toward Shura again.
"You're finally back," he said.
His armored hand moved toward Shura's face, likely intending to examine the injury properly this time.
Shura leaned away first.
The Knight stopped.
"You faced him directly?"
"I tried."
The woman glanced toward the metallic mask hanging from Shura's belt.
"That thing Works," she admitted quietly. "He was too fast otherwise."
The Knight crouched slightly beside Shura.
"We don't need people who can fight," he said calmly.
His gauntleted hand rested briefly against Shura's head before shifting carefully toward the swelling near his jaw.
"We need people who can hold the situation together."
Shura flinched faintly at the touch.
"I'm alright."
A lie.
All three of them recognized it immediately.
The Knight exhaled softly through his nose.
"At least lie more convincingly next time."
A faint smile touched the edge of Shura's mouth despite himself.
The Knight straightened again.
"Want me to take you to a hospital?"
"It's close from here," Shura answered. "I can walk."
"You sure?"
"Yes."
The Knight studied him for another second before nodding once.
"I still have questions for you," he admitted quietly.
Then his visible eye shifted toward the metallic mask resting against Shura's belt.
"And not only about that."
The woman suddenly spoke again.
"Wait."
She gestured lightly toward the remaining chairs beside the counter.
"At least sit properly before leaving."
Neither man argued.
The atmosphere had changed too much for standing hostility now.
The woman leaned quietly against the counter.
"…I forgot to ask."
Her eyes moved toward Shura first.
"What's your name?"
"Shura."
The Knight's head turned slightly toward her.
"…You didn't know him?"
She frowned.
"He came here to buy clothes."
For the first time since entering the shop, the Knight looked genuinely surprised.
His visible eye shifted slowly back toward Shura.
The silver-threaded coat. The strange mask. The calmness.
None of it matched properly anymore.
The woman noticed the reaction immediately.
"My name's Reva," she said before the silence could deepen further.
Then both of them looked toward the Knight.
The Knight tilted his head slightly.
"Mine?"
A faint pause followed.
"Is there really a need?"
Reva gave him a flat stare.
The Knight sighed softly.
"…Esdras."
The room finally felt almost normal for the first time since the fight began.
Almost.
Esdras' gaze drifted toward the folded silver-threaded coat resting beside the counter.
"You made this?" he asked Reva casually.
Reva crossed her arms immediately.
"I'm not talented enough to copy official Velorin work."
Esdras looked at the stitching carefully.
"No," he admitted. "But it's still good craftsmanship."
Reva blinked once.
"…Really?"
"That sounded more surprised than thankful."
"It's rare hearing compliments from Knights."
A faint smile touched Shura's face again.
Esdras' attention shifted next toward the metallic mask.
His expression changed slightly.
Subtle. Measured.
He picked it up carefully.
The dark metal reflected distorted Beacon-light across the fingers covering the eye area.
"…Hands covering the eyes," Esdras murmured.
"What's it supposed to represent?"
His thumb brushed lightly across the metal surface.
"Fear, maybe."
Reva looked at it for a moment.
"…Or hiding."
Silence followed.
Then Shura spoke quietly.
"…Existence."
Neither of them answered immediately.
Esdras stared at the mask another second before finally placing it back down.
"…That answer worries me the most," he admitted.
Silence settled briefly across the ruined shop.
Then Esdras exhaled softly and straightened.
"Alright," he said. "Before this conversation stretches into the next night-cycle…"
Then he straightened fully and reached for his helm.
Steel locked softly into place as he covered his face once more.
The visor sealed shut with a soft metallic click.
And just like that—
Esdras disappeared behind the Knight again.
Before leaving, Esdras placed a single tin coin onto the counter.
The metal clinked softly against the wood.
Reva frowned instantly.
"I said you don't need to pay for this."
Esdras didn't stop walking.
Didn't even slow down.
Reva hesitated before calling out louder:
"I'm talking to Esdras, not the Knight."
For the first time since the helmet covered his face, a faint laugh escaped him.
"Then maybe Esdras will return once the Knight finally rests."
The shop door opened. Cold air drifted briefly inside.
Then—
The door closed behind him.
Cold air slipped briefly through the shop before the silence settled again.
Reva watched the entrance for a few seconds longer before finally exhaling.
"…they always does that."
Shura tilted his head slightly. "Talk strangely?"
"No," Reva replied quietly.
"Leave before people can thank him properly."
Then silence.
The Beacon-light shifted softly across the broken shop floor.
And for the first time since entering the store, the room finally felt tired instead of dangerous