T'Jadaka's eyes snapped open, a sharp groan escaping his lips. "Ugh... My head."

  He tried to sit up, but a fresh wave of agony shot through his body. "Fuck... my everything." He fell back onto the soft mattress, wincing. He blinked, trying to clear the haze of pain and confusion.

  This wasn't his room. The air smelled of herbs and antiseptic, not the familiar sterile scent of the hospital or the dust of the forest. The room was simple, bathed in soft, natural light filtering through sheer curtains.

  Where the hell am I?

  He managed to push himself up again, ignoring the protesting ache in his muscles, and looked down. He was completely swathed in bandages—not the normal cotton kind, but thick, translucent wrappings that glowed faintly with a pale, steady green light. Mana bandages.

  "What the fuck is going on?" he muttered, running his good hand—the one not wrapped completely—over his head. "Who is trying to heal me? This is so weird... I need to get the fuck outta here."

  He tried to swing his legs over the side of the bed, only for his feet to touch a cool, wooden floor. The instant he put weight on his right leg, it buckled, and he collapsed with a muffled cry. The effort of trying to stand instantly made his recovering arms flare with a searing, internal heat.

  T'Jadaka slammed his fist onto the wooden floor beside the bed, the sudden, sharp impact sending a jolt of pain through his bandaged arm. A furious, guttural growl escaped his throat.

  Marks! Form! he commanded internally, forcing his Mazoku energy to surge.

  He focused his will, demanding the familiar, complex black lines to burn themselves onto his skin—a prelude to the rapid healing and power surge he desperately needed. Nothing. The skin on his forearm remained stubbornly pale, the obsidian black marks refusing to appear. His body was an empty well.

  "That fuckin' dick, Shikiba..." he hissed, the name a curse on his lips. "I'm too drained to use my marks!"

  The crushing reality of his situation hit him: He was virtually paralyzed, too weak to move, too spent to access his Mazoku healing factor. He couldn't even stand, let alone fight, and the terrifying questions piled up in his mind, suffocating him.

  Perfect! I'm too weak to move, I can't use my marks to heal, and I have no idea what the hell happened to everyone I love while I was out!

  Then the door creaked open, and T'Jadaka's head snapped toward the sound. Standing in the doorway was a girl with long, dark purple hair that fell past her shoulders and dark silver eyes—the exact chilling shade as Shikiba's.

  Another Stygian, he thought instantly, the remaining vestiges of his rage coiling in his gut.

  "Oh my!" she gasped, her eyes widening with genuine surprise. She quickly rushed to his bedside. "I didn't think you'd be awake after all that... Are you-"

  She reached out to steady him, but before her fingers could brush his skin, T'Jadaka's eyes flared black and white. Fueled by sheer panic and willpower, he pushed off the floor, his severely injured legs taking his weight for a split second as he dashed backward, stumbling into a fighting stance.

  He's standing? He shouldn't even be able to keep moving like that... The girl's expression shifted from concern to bewildered alarm.

  "Where the hell am I!?" T'Jadaka snarled, the exertion making him tremble violently. "And what did you do with my family!?"

  The girl immediately put her hands up in a gesture of peace, her voice low and steady. "Calm down! Nothing has happened to them, okay? They're safe. Just sit back down before you make your legs worse... please."

  Her silver eyes, despite the Stygian connection, held an honest, worried sincerity. I don't feel like she's lying, T'Jadaka thought, his Mazoku instincts, though severely weakened, confirming her words. Plus, I need info about what happened anyway. The intense pain in his legs was a more convincing threat than her presence.

  He collapsed back onto the mattress with a heavy sigh, the black and white receding from his eyes. "Okay, I'll humor you," he conceded, the rage draining into exhaustion. "But make it ASAP."

  The girl offered a small, hesitant smile, then turned to grab her medical supplies from the nearby table. She pulled a stool close and immediately began working on his legs.

  "I have to say, the way you stood your ground against Shikiba was pretty amazing," she said, carefully unwrapping one of the glowing, translucent bandages. Her tone was gentle, and a faint blush touched her cheeks. "Not even most high-level mana users can hold up anywhere near the fight you put up, and you don't even use a mana core."

  T'Jadaka's jaw tightened, the mention of the name reigniting the cold fire in his gut. "Yeah, well, Shikiba—whoever the hell he is to you—is a fucking dickhead," he snarled, his voice raw. His hands clenched into tight fists on the mattress. "He came to my mom's funeral, kicked over her casket, and wouldn't even allow me to mourn her death in peace... Yeah, it's 'fuck him till I die' for me."

  "Yeah... That's a completely fair way for you to feel," she murmured, her expression softening with sympathy. She began rubbing a cool, menthol-scented ointment onto his bruised skin, the sensation briefly dulling the ache.

  T'Jadaka shifted restlessly. "Enough of this small talk," he said, his voice flat and impatient. "Tell me what I want to know. Start with who you are and why the hell you're healing me."

  "Y-yeah!" she cleared her throat, adjusting her posture. "My name is Yui Stygian, and I'm the daughter of the head of the clan. Right now, you're at our home in the Shetu District."

  She placed her hands on his legs, a wave of pale green light—concentrated healing mana—enveloping the wounds. "Your family has been informed you're here and, most importantly, your mother's body is whole. They laid her to rest a few hours ago."

  Well, at least I got some good news today, I guess, T'Jadaka thought, the tension easing slightly from his shoulders. "Hold on a second. If you're the head's daughter, why did Shikiba stop his mission then? And that still doesn't explain why I'm still alive."

  Yui removed her hands, and the light faded. She gestured to his now-smooth skin. "I'm not 100% sure myself; you might have to ask my father. He called off the attack on you the moment he found out who you and your mother were." She smiled gently. "There, you should be fully healed now."

  T'Jadaka cautiously got up, performing a few stretches and squats. All residual pain was gone. "Thanks... I really appreciate it. Sorry for being a dick earlier."

  "Nah, it's cool. Don't worry about it," she replied warmly. "To be honest, if I were in your shoes, I would have acted the same way." She then leaned in a little, her dark silver eyes filled with curiosity, and began to gently rub his shoulders. "Though I have to say..."

  Yui paused, a flicker of admiration in her voice. "I never knew a Viltrumlight of all people would be able to stand up to one of us like that. It's even rarer to see that you're not only part Mazoku but also part Yamazato Tribe! You're really blessed, you know?"

  "Wait, wait, hold your horses. I know what a 'Mazoku' is, partially from my mom and Marla, but I don't know what the hell a Yamazato is," T'Jadaka said, his curiosity overriding his caution.

  Yui looked genuinely shocked. "Wait... You don't know who your people are?"

  "Don't talk like you know all about 'my people,' Yui, like you know everything about them. I'm pretty sure you just heard stories about that name, anyway."

  Yui pouted, drawing back her hands. "What? It may be true, but we actually have records about the Yamazato Tribe, you jerk, mostly from diplomatic and military interactions with them, but it's still better than nothing."

  Damn it, I hate how she has a point! T'Jadaka conceded internally. But that's a part of my mom's history, a part that she didn't even know herself, to be honest... This should be a good way to understand her side of the family more.

  "You're right, I'm sorry for being an ass. Could you please show me the records that you do have?"

  Yui then smiled at him, the dark silver of her eyes softening. "That better, then?" She rose from the stool, her posture subtly shifting. "You should be fully mobile now, and I could also, you know..." She played idly with a strand of her dark purple hair. "Show you around the manor, if you want?"

  T'Jadaka's internal alarm bells went off. Holy shit... I think she's crushing on me... I should turn her down right now. He paused, a calculating look entering his eyes. It wouldn't hurt to keep the illusion up a little longer. It will make her more likely to show me the records I need.

  "Sure, why not," he replied, giving a measured, noncommittal shrug. "As long as you're certain everyone in my family is safe, I don't really care how I spend my time."

  They stepped out of the secluded compound and onto the streets of the Shetu District. T'Jadaka paused, taking in the scene. Unlike the sterile quiet of the hospital, this area buzzed with the loud, relentless energy of a fully operational city.

  Cars hummed, delivery trucks rumbled, and thousands of people—all sporting the dark silver eyes and carmine-black hair of the Stygian clan—bustled past, engaged in animated conversations. The sheer number of people who looked identical was unsettling.

  "This place looks like a fascist dictator got his dream world, and everybody looks exactly the same," T'Jadaka observed flatly, his gaze sweeping over the crowd.

  Yui recoiled slightly, a crease forming between her brows. "Why do you have to reply like that? Geez..."

  "Hey, it's an astute observation, okay?" he retorted, offering a noncommittal shrug. "Don't get butt-hurt just because it looks kind of true."

  Almost immediately, as he stepped onto the street, a throng of girls materialized, surrounding T'Jadaka and swiftly pushing Yui aside.

  "Hey, girls! I just finished treating him!" Yui protested loudly, indignation ringing in her voice.

  T'Jadaka's eyes widened in alarm. "What the—" Before he could finish, the group swept him up.

  "OMG! It's really the guy who held his own against Shikiba!" one girl gushed, her dark silver eyes sparkling.

  "Yeah, he had Shikiba on the ropes! He almost killed him, too!" another chimed in, before reaching out, cupping his face, and rubbing his cheek with a giddy sigh. "Ohh~ He's so handsome, that's a huge bonus~"

  Flustered, T'Jadaka managed to gently peel them off of him, stumbling back slightly. "For God's sake, ladies! I know I'm a good-looking guy, but this is ridiculous! Like, what the hell do you want from me!?" he exclaimed, his voice rising in exasperation.

  The girls exchanged delighted smiles. "We want to have your children!~?" they chorused in perfect, unnerving synchronization.

  The demand broke him.

  God, no, not this again… Yui pinched the bridge of her nose, letting out a frustrated groan.

  "You WHAT!?" T'Jadaka demanded, turning to Yui, his confusion palpable. "What the hell are they on about, bro!?"

  Yui fiddled nervously with the cuff of her jacket. "Y-yeah... you see, our clan is descended from a line of half-demons, and in our nature, we have a very strong drive to produce powerful offspring. So... we are naturally highly attracted to strong men with strong mana and skills they can offer to our gene pool..."

  "Well, I don't have any mana at all, so I don't know why you guys are all over me like this," T'Jadaka pointed out, gesturing to his now-healed, mark-free arms.

  "That may be true; we normally don't go after men who are only physically strong," one girl admitted, stepping closer.

  "But you're a special exception," another girl continued, her voice breathy.

  "You possess two of the rarest bloodlines in existence, both thought to be extinct: you are the offspring of both the Yamazato Tribe and the great Mazoku!" the last girl concluded, her eyes shining with avarice. "So please, let all of us have your children!~?"

  T'Jadaka's eyes widened in horror. Hell nah, you trying to use me like I'm a living sperm donor or something... I need to quickly get out of the situation, he thought.

  "Thank you, girls, I am flattered that you ladies would want me to be your husband, but I'll have to respectfully decline. I have a girlfriend at home."

  Yui looked a little disappointed by this fact. The girls just shrugged their shoulders.

  "So?"

  "So!?" T'Jadaka repeated, bewildered.

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  "I mean, we don't need you to raise them or anything."

  "Yeah, we don't mind being mistresses at all~"

  Oh... Oh nah, they have lost their damn minds! They're freaky-freaky! T'Jadaka took a cautious step back, an expression of mounting panic on his face. "Look, ladies, I really appreciate the—the enthusiasm, but I'm a one-woman kind of guy, and I am not, under any circumstances, planning on becoming a... a stud."

  The girls' expressions hardened into a determined pout. "We don't take no for an answer, handsome," one declared, crossing her arms.

  "Yeah, you just need to relax and let nature take its course," another added, taking a step toward him.

  T'Jadaka looked around desperately, scanning the identical-looking crowd. No one seemed remotely concerned by the situation, treating the aggressive recruitment drive as completely normal. He turned to Yui, his eyes pleading. "Yui! Help me out here, please!"

  Yui cleared her throat, stepping forward with an air of mild authority. "Alright, ladies, give the man some space. He needs to accompany me on a diplomatic tour of the district."

  The girls looked instantly deflated, their eagerness melting into sullen acceptance. "Aww, fine." They stepped back, still shooting T'Jadaka covetous glances. "But we'll be waiting for you to finish your 'tour,' handsome."

  "Seriously?" T'Jadaka muttered to Yui as they quickly moved down the street, putting distance between him and his prospective baby-mamas.

  "Told you they were interested in strong genes," Yui said with a slight, embarrassed shrug. "It's just our culture. They truly meant no harm; it's considered an honor to be sought out like that."

  "An honor I can definitely live without," T'Jadaka shot back, his paranoia high. He kept checking over his shoulder. "Okay, new plan: I don't want a tour of the district. I want to see those records about the Yamazato Tribe now, and then I want to see your father."

  Yui sighed, knowing she wouldn't win this argument. "Fine. Follow me. The library is not far."

  They walked in silence for a few minutes. T'Jadaka's stomach chose that moment to let out a long, drawn-out, embarrassing rumble that echoed slightly in the relatively quiet street.

  Yui stopped and looked at him, a small, amused smile playing on her lips. "Hungry, are we?"

  T'Jadaka felt a flush rise to his cheeks. "Yeah, well, I was too busy getting my ass kicked and then getting flirted with to eat, so..." he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.

  "I know a great little place nearby, run by a distant cousin. They make the best sekihan you'll ever have. It's a Stygian specialty—a little something we adapted after a few... interactions with your kind."

  T'Jadaka shrugged. The combination sounded bizarre but intriguing, and his hunger was now a demanding presence. "Lead the way. But then it's straight to the records."

  Twenty minutes later, T'Jadaka leaned back, utterly stuffed, a gentle belch escaping his lips. Around him, the restaurant floor was a disaster zone. The savory beef and sweet, crispy tempura, consumed by the hundreds of servings, formed a pleasant, but massive, warmth in his belly. The sheer density of about five hundred and fifty-seven full course meals had successfully obliterated the remnants of his exhaustion. Three visibly exhausted staff members were already hauling away towering stacks of empty bowls.

  "Man! I was starving, that sir did hit the spot. I don't feel tired anymore," T'Jadaka said, patting his stomach with a contented sigh.

  Jin, the restaurant owner and Yui's cousin, approached the table, his eye twitching. "Yui," he said, gesturing wildly at the sheer mountain of used tableware being wheeled past on a trolley, "your friend just ate thousands of dollars worth of food... He ate more than the first five hundred people who came in here combined..."

  Yui just giggled nervously, a bead of sweat tracing a path down her temple. "Sorry about that, cousin Jin..." She patted T'Jadaka's arm. "But don't worry! I already told him to pay for all of it."

  "Okay," he said, pushing his empty bowl away. "That was amazing. Now, library time."

  Yui chuckled, rising to her feet. "Yeah, that would be enough food for the day."

  As T'Jadaka and Yui walked away, Jin, the owner, stood at the door, watching them go with a look of stunned disbelief. He quickly grabbed a piece of cardboard and a thick marker from under the counter, furiously scribbling a message. He hung the newly made sign in the window with a definitive slap.

  It read: NO VILTRUMLIGHTS ALLOWED.

  Jin crossed his arms, muttering to himself, his eye still twitching. "They can’t come up and hear no more. If they eat like that little boy, I'll be out of business, money be damned."

  After a few minutes of walking they finally managed to find the library, after going inside they went to the very back where they keep the clan's combat Scrolls from previous battles. "Are you sure your dad is going to approve of this? And Outsider being shown your most sensitive information on enemies you fought?"

  "I'm allowed to show anybody I want, I may not be the head of the clan but being in the head family give me at least this privilege." she said while skimming through the Scrolls. "My only problem is there are thousands of these things, so it's going to be hard to actually find-"

  "You mean this scroll right here that has the clan name on it?"

  She quickly looked over, surprised. "How did you find it so quickly!?"

  "In this neat organized scrolls over here, in alphabetical order. It seems that your librarian is actually taking time to organize these scrolls, I don't know who you guys hired to do this but they sucked."

  Yui took the scroll and carefully unfurled it, the ancient paper crinkling softly. Her dark silver eyes scanned the text.

  "It's been a long time since I looked at one of these," she murmured, a touch of nostalgia in her voice. "I almost forgot the Yamazato Tribe gave us these scrolls willingly."

  T'Jadaka's eyes widened in surprise. "Wait, why would they willingly give your clan scrolls filled with sensitive information about themselves?"

  Yui met his gaze, a slight, knowing smile on her lips. "That's because the Yamazato Tribe and the Stygian Clan were allies—no, more than that. They were best friends for over 10,000 years."

  T'Jadaka stared, utterly floored. "You can't be serious."

  "No, it's very much true," she insisted, tapping the scroll. "The scroll should explain everything once we look inside."

  Yui carefully unrolled the ancient combat scroll, its aged paper brittle but surprisingly well-preserved. She pointed to a section of the text, written in a flowing, complex script that mixed the angular characters of the Stygian language with the softer curves of an alien tongue.

  "This scroll contains the Yamazato’s own history, a gift given to our clan centuries ago," Yui began, her voice taking on a respectful reverence. "It describes their origins—a warrior race that was tragically out of place in a universe of cruelty."

  T'Jadaka leaned in, his eyes fixed on the text as Yui began to translate.

  "Their home was M'karnhesh," Yui read aloud, dragging her finger along the faded text, "a world one thousand times the size of Seykxel'rrta." She paused, mouthing the number again. One thousand times. "The gravity was so dense that any ordinary creature would have been instantly crushed into—" she squinted, "—a smear of biological matter the moment they stepped onto its surface."

  "Gross," T’Jadaka muttered.

  "The Yamazato developed their strength and resilience purely as a survival mechanism. A biological necessity, just to move and breathe on their own world."

  She turned the scroll, revealing a diagram of a starship—a massive, scarred monolith of metal that looked like it had been dragged through the universe and back.

  "M'karnhesh was destroyed not by war," Yui continued, her voice quieting slightly, "but by a natural cosmic cataclysm. The scroll just calls it..." she found the words, "the Great Unraveling."

  She sat with that for a second.

  "The Yamazato were already nomadic before it happened. They lived entirely on that ship, relying on each other to survive the void of space. It says that's why their core values were cooperation, warmth, and self-sacrifice—" Yui looked up from the scroll. "They weren't just ideals. They were survival instincts. Hardwired in, generation after generation."

  "When the monolithic vessel crash-landed here, it was a terrifying spectacle." Yui scrolled further, scanning ahead before reading aloud again. "The Yamazato emerged from a ship no one had ever imagined, and the inhabitants of Seykxel'rrta were scared. Ready for war."

  "I mean, fair," he said.

  "But the Yamazato weren't conquerors. They were immediately welcoming—offering their technology, helping the locals develop faster." Yui tilted her head, still reading. "It says they didn't see a world to take. They saw... a fragile species that needed protection."

  T'Jadaka's eyes narrowed. "Okay, but if they were so kind, why were they mercenaries? Assassins?" He crossed his arms. "That doesn't sound like protection to me."

  Yui lowered the scroll slightly. "That's the irony." She almost laughed, but it came out as a sigh instead. "They became elite fighters—mercenaries, assassins, vanguard soldiers—because their strength was unmatched and they needed resources. Their population was massive. The ship needed constant repairs. They had to sustain themselves somehow."

  She found her place again.

  "But they were notoriously picky. A Yamazato would never take a contract that meant oppressing someone weaker. And if a village was being overrun, or a family had nothing—" she glanced up, "—they'd fight for free."

  A beat of quiet.

  "The scroll calls them anomalies." Yui set it down for a moment. "Warrior angels driven by empathy rather than bloodlust or pride."

  Yui's voice dropped as she read on. "The records detail their tragic end." She paused, like she was steeling herself. "The global coalition that ruled Seykxel'rrta grew terrified of them. Their combat potential. The fact that they couldn't stay dead on the battlefield—even gravely wounded, they just kept regenerating, kept fighting. To the coalition, they looked like immortal devils."

  She turned the scroll over slowly.

  "But they weren't destroyed in open conflict." Her voice quieted further. "It was their trusting nature that killed them. The very thing that made them who they were." She exhaled. "Humanity's ruling factions couldn't understand that kind of fundamental kindness, so they weaponized it. Turned Yamazato against each other with elaborate lies. Lured them into ambushes. And the Yamazato just..." she shook her head, "couldn't comprehend it. Calculated malice. Treachery. It simply didn't exist in how they thought."

  Silence.

  "They were hunted to extinction, T'Jadaka." Yui set the scroll down. "Not because they were weak. Because they were too good. Too kind." She looked at him. "They're gone. But their lineage—your mother's lineage—is the few of an entire species of fiercely kind warriors."

  T'Jadaka didn't say anything for a long moment. He just stood there, turning it over in his head—the image of his mother, fierce and uncompromising, and somehow also this. It clicked in a way he hadn't expected.

  "Wait." He looked up. "You said they couldn't stay dead." His voice was quieter now, more careful. "Is that why my mom survived so much damage? Because she was Viltrumlight, but also part Yamazato?"

  Yui nodded slowly. "That's our theory. Viltrumlight resilience, Mazoku adaptation, and Yamazato biology combined—" she seemed to search for the right word, "—whatever that creates, it's something close to indestructible." She looked at him steadily. "Your mother wasn't just a Viltrumlight, T'Jadaka. She was the last remnant of a species that was too kind to survive a cruel galaxy."

  "Ah... I see," T'Jadaka said, leaning back and trying to sound casual, though a flicker of unease crossed his face. "So... What does that make me? The Last of a Dying Breed with some 'unknown Destiny' I have to fulfill now? Because that crap sounds exactly like a Hero's Journey arc."

  Yui shook her head, offering a small, sympathetic smile. "I personally wouldn't call it that, T'Jadaka. After all, you're the main character of your own story. I believe you're in charge of your own destiny." She paused, her smile fading slightly. "Although, your clock runs a lot longer than ours, in the long run."

  He looked confused. "What are you talking about?"

  "Well, mana users like us live for a long time—up to 300 years, sometimes more—but we still age. By the time we're a hundred, we might look around 70 or 80. Viltrumlights age even slower than us, and the older they get, the slower the aging process becomes." She sighed, the implication heavy in the air. "It's been said that Raiken has been around for over 5,000 years and doesn't look a day over 30."

  T'Jadaka's face paled, the realization sinking in. "So... I'm cursed to see all my loved ones die... While I remain virtually ageless...?"

  Yui's expression was soft with genuine sadness. "Yeah... I'm sorry for breaking the news to you."

  Then, T'Jadaka's face went utterly blank. The vibrant animation drained from his features, leaving behind a profound, weary exhaustion that seemed to age him decades in an instant. The light brown in his eyes that was full of determination, replaced by a terrible, empty brown. He had finally grasped the full, horrific scope of his inheritance.

  Every decision I make after this point won't even matter, the thought echoed, cold and absolute, in the silence of his mind. Falling in love... making bonds... forging a family... All of it is a cruel, self-inflicted wound. He saw the future laid out before him, a relentless sequence of tombstones, each one bearing the name of someone he would come to love.

  They will all die. And I will keep living, the sole survivor of a massacre that repeats itself century after century. It will be heartbreak over and over again until the end of time. The agony of it was a crushing weight, far worse than any physical blow Shikiba had landed.

  "T'Jadaka..?" Yui whispered, her dark silver eyes wide with concern, reaching out a hesitant hand but stopping just short of touching him. The sheer, depthless grief radiating from him was palpable.

  He pushed the devastating vision away with a shudder, forcing himself to focus on the immediate, desperate need for escape. "Just please bring me to your father," he said, his voice flat, stripped of all emotion, "I just want to leave now."

  Yui nodded, her face etched with sympathy. "Right this way... It's north from here."

  After a few minutes of silent walking, T'Jadaka's initial shock began to crystallize into a grim resolve. He adjusted his stride, the weariness in his gait replaced by a quiet determination.

  I can't change the fact that I'll outlive them all, he thought, the truth a cold weight in his heart. But I can change how they live while they're here. If I'm going to be the constant in their lives, the least I can do is make sure I give them the best damn life possible.

  He stopped abruptly, turning to Yui.

  "Yo, Yui."

  "Yeah?" she replied, halting beside him, her brow furrowed with concern.

  "I guess since I'm cursed to live a long time, the best I can do is be the best part of the lives of everyone I know," he stated, his voice now low and steady. "But to do that, I have to do something that might be the hardest thing I'll ever do."

  "What is it?" she asked, her silver eyes searching his.

  "I know this might be pushing it, but I might need you to do a little favor for me," he said.

  Yui let out a nervous laugh. "Please tell me it's not about you eating more food."

  Jadaka managed a small, rueful chuckle. "Nah, not that. But it is bigger than that, though."

  Yui met his gaze, her expression supportive. "Well, if you go talk to my dad about it, I'll support you on it."

  "Thanks, I appreciate it," he said, offering her a genuine, albeit small, smile.

  T'Jadaka stood on the periphery of the Xing Long district, a heavy black hoodie pulled up, obscuring the lower half of his face, the hood shadowing his eyes. He paused, his gaze sweeping over the familiar, chaotic sprawl of the city.

  A weary sigh escaped him. "Three years... Normally, I would think that's a long time, but honestly... it doesn't seem like much time passed at all."

  The city hadn't changed, a constant in his newly accelerated perception of time. The sights, the smells, the relentless noise—all were exactly as he remembered. The profound realization of his accelerated longevity, the core of his new resolve, was heavy in his chest.

  "I wonder how everyone has been since I left?" he murmured, a mix of apprehension and quiet hope in his voice.

  He began to walk down the crowded street, a ghost in his own city, the weight of three long years of self-imposed exile pressing down on him.