For a long moment, no one moved.
Edrin lay flat on his back, staring at the sky, which—despite everything—looked far too calm for what had just happened.
"…I think I've reached my limit," he said.
Ronan laughed, sheathing his sword. "You say that every time."
"And every time, I mean it more."
Lyra stood over him, studying him carefully. "Can you stand?"
Edrin considered the question.
"…Physically, yes. Emotionally, no."
"Stand," she said.
Edrin sighed and rolled onto his side, pushing himself up with noticeable effort. His legs trembled slightly, but he stayed upright.
"…I'm standing," he announced. "This feels like progress."
"It is," Lyra said.
Ronan smirked. "Barely."
Edrin pointed at him. "I defeated a giant shadow creature with multiple cores."
"While falling," Ronan added.
"That's not the point."
"That's exactly the point."
Edrin paused.
"…That's fair."
He looked down at his sword.
Still in his hand.
Still steady—mostly.
"…I didn't drop it," he said quietly.
Lyra noticed.
"No," she said. "You didn't."
For a brief moment, there was no sarcasm in her voice.
No teasing.
Just acknowledgment.
Edrin smiled faintly.
"…I think I'm getting better."
"You are," Lyra said.
Ronan crossed his arms. "You're still terrible."
Edrin nodded. "I expected that part to stay consistent."
The clearing around them was quiet again, but the damage remained—cracked earth, scorched ground, and the lingering feeling of something that had almost been too much.
Edrin glanced around. "…That thing was stronger than the others."
"Yes," Lyra said.
"And there will be more like it?"
"…Yes."
Edrin exhaled slowly. "I was afraid you'd say that."
Ronan stepped forward, his expression more serious now. "That wasn't random."
Edrin blinked. "What do you mean?"
"That thing was hunting," Ronan said. "Not just wandering. Not just testing."
Lyra nodded. "It was looking for you."
Edrin froze.
"…I really don't like that."
"You don't have to like it," Lyra said. "But you have to understand it."
Edrin rubbed his face. "I preferred when they just appeared randomly."
"They've stopped being random," she replied.
Silence settled between them.
Edrin looked at the ground, then at his hands.
"…So they're getting smarter," he said.
"Yes."
"And stronger."
"Yes."
"And more focused on me."
"…Yes."
Edrin nodded slowly.
"…That's a lot."
Ronan smirked slightly. "Welcome to being important."
"I don't want to be important."
"Too late."
Edrin sighed.
"…I miss being unimportant."
Lyra glanced at him. "You still are. Just in a different way."
Edrin frowned. "That sounded insulting."
"It wasn't."
"It felt like it."
Ronan chuckled. "You'll get used to that too."
Edrin shook his head. "There are too many things I'm supposed to get used to."
He looked back at the center of the clearing—the place where the creature had fallen.
"…But I didn't run," he said quietly.
Lyra didn't respond immediately.
Then—
"No," she said. "You didn't."
Edrin tightened his grip on the sword.
"…I almost did."
"But you didn't."
Ronan nodded. "That's what matters."
Edrin let out a slow breath.
"…Alright," he said. "I can work with that."
Lyra turned toward the path ahead. "We need to keep moving."
Edrin groaned. "Of course we do."
Ronan grinned. "The road doesn't get easier."
"I didn't expect it to."
Edrin took one last look at the clearing.
At the place where he had fallen—
Again.
But this time—
He had chosen how.
"…Alright," he said quietly.
Then he turned.
And followed them forward.
Not because he was ready.
Not because he wasn't afraid.
But because stopping wasn't an option anymore.
And somewhere, far beyond the horizon—
Something was learning his name.