The light in the hall flickered unnaturally — not from flame, but from the pulsing aura of cloaked killers gathered in silence.

  Neyxa stood near the back, arms folded tight. The scarred relic beacon at her hip still hummed from earlier. Her eyes darted to the front as a senior guildmaster approached the dais.

  “He returns,” the old man rasped. “The one we left in the dark. The one they said died in the jungle’s curse.”

  Neyxa’s brows furrowed. She already knew the name forming in the air.

  “He was more than a leader,” the guildmaster continued. “He was the edge that kept the world bleeding.”

  Then the torches flared.

  A shadow stepped through the gilded arch behind the podium.

  Tall. Lean. Cloak torn. Chest wrapped in blackened gauze, still stained from old wounds. And under his hood — a half smile carved into a face that hadn't aged right.

  Nerro.

  He moved without hesitation. No guards. No fear. Just that same unsettling calm he wore the day of the betrayal.

  Some in the crowd dropped to a knee. Others hesitated. Neyxa stayed still.

  “Some of you forgot me,” Nerro said, voice low. “Others thought me dead.”

  He lifted his shirt slightly — revealed the still-glowing scar where Rell’s fire-spear had torn through him.

  “You see this?” he whispered. “This is what they leave you with… when you try to survive on your own.”

  The crowd said nothing.

  “I clawed my way through soil soaked in blood. Through root systems crying out with names I no longer say. And what did I learn?”

  His gaze sharpened.

  “That the ones in power still decide who’s criminal… and who’s hero.”

  He took a step forward.

  “But I’m no one’s victim.”

  The air tightened.

  “I came back because we lost our edge. The guild’s teeth dull. You trade contracts like traders sell silk. You don’t make them *afraid* anymore.”

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  He smiled again. A slow, broken curve.

  “That changes tonight.”

  —

  [Later – Private Chamber]

  Neyxa stood alone in a small council room. A map of southern forests glowed with tracking markers — beast temple locations, patrol sweeps, old ruins.

  Then the door creaked open.

  Nerro entered alone.

  No guards. Just a cane now, ornamental — but probably a weapon.

  “Long time,” he said.

  Neyxa didn’t reply.

  “You were good,” he continued. “Always knew where the line was.”

  He walked around her slowly.

  “But I hear you been… crossing lines lately.”

  She clenched her jaw.

  “You heard wrong.”

  “I heard about a jungle boy,” Nerro said with a grin. “Heard he walks with beasts. That he burns hot when pushed.”

  He paused behind her.

  “Also heard he leaves fire scars like the one in my chest.”

  Neyxa didn’t flinch.

  “I didn’t say anything,” she muttered.

  “No,” Nerro replied. “But the streets talk. The market whispers. And I listen.”

  He walked past her now, tapping the cane.

  “Your sister. She still sleeping in that crystal tomb?”

  Neyxa froze.

  “Don’t.”

  “I could get you help,” Nerro said. “You know that. Guild has relics stashed far deeper than the doctors.”

  He faced her.

  “But help costs.”

  “…What do you want?”

  He leaned in.

  “There’s a nest of Blessed Beasts near your jungle boy. You’re gonna help me find it.”

  She shook her head. “He won’t let you near it.”

  “That’s why you go first,” he said. “Make sure the beasts don’t run. We’ll come in after.”

  Two masked guild assassins entered behind her — silent as ghosts.

  “Don’t make this hard, Neyxa,” Nerro said. “I remember when you believed in us.”

  She swallowed. Didn’t answer.

  “Go tomorrow. We track from there.”

  He stepped back into shadow. The masked ones followed.

  Neyxa stood alone.

  Hand on her side. Fingertips trembling near her hidden dagger.

  She didn't draw it.

  But she wanted to.