Chapter 27: Unfold

Zarnem walked alone through the luminous corridors of Krutone, his boots tapping softly against stone tiles that glowed faintly with embedded Intergy. After several turns through residential districts lined with sculpted trees and glass-paneled courtyards, he reached a quieter part of the city. The lights were softer here. Finally, he stopped in front of a curved glass building etched with the words “Krutone Living Center.” Inside, the senior center buzzed with low voices and soft music. Zarnem exhaled slowly and stepped forward, unsure if he was ready, but knowing he had to be.

Robot: Good afternoon. Do you have an appointment scheduled?

Zarnem: Uh, no. I’m here to visit Jezra.

Robot: Please sign in while we notify her.

The robot tapped a sequence of inputs on a hovering holographic display projected from its built-in interface, the soft glow of the panel pulsing gently with each command. Zarnem waited, and after a few minutes gone by, a green light lit from the holographic display.

Robot: Jezra is waiting for you in room 208 located on the second floor to your right.

Zarnem: Thank you.

Zarnem proceeded through the hallways. He stepped into the elevator, its doors sliding shut with a soundless whisper. The chamber was bathed in a soft cyan glow, Intergy flowing through the transparent walls like liquid light, rising with him in elegant ribbons as the platform ascended. There was no jolt, no sound— only a gentle hum beneath his boots. When the doors opened, he walked slowly down the second-floor hallway. The numbers on each door glowed faintly until he reached 208. He paused, exhaled, then pressed a glowing button underneath where 208 read. There was a pause, then the door slid open quietly and he entered. Inside, the room was softly lit, bathed in warm tones of gold and amber from the overhead fixtures. The air carried a faint scent of lavender and old books. Sitting upright in a neatly made bed was an elderly woman— Jezra, his mother. Her silver hair was pulled back into a low braid, and her eyes, though clouded with age, still held the sharpness of someone who had lived through too much to forget. She wore a soft burgundy shawl draped over her shoulders, her hands resting calmly in her lap. When she saw him, her expression didn’t change right away. She simply stared.

Jezra: When I heard you returned, I almost thought you wouldn’t come see me.

Zarnem doesn’t say anything. He only sits on a chair by her bed.

Jezra: What brings you back home?

Zarnem: Hi Mother. I just had news to bring President Kyto.

Jezra: Are you trying to earn your place back?

Zarnem: I’m only trying to do what I think is right.

Jezra: You mean like how you left your friend Penim behind? You mean like how you left me?

Zarnem: We’re starting off strong already.

Jezra: I don’t see any reason for small talk.

Zarnem didn’t say anything.

Jezra: So what did you want to say?

Zarnem: Nothing… just wanted to see you.

Jezra: Ok, you saw me. Now you can go.

Zarnem doesn’t leave. He sits in disappointment.

Jezra: Are you here to remind me how much I hurt you? Are you here to remind me how much of a failure I am to be your mother? We don’t need to go through this again.

Zarnem: No. I’m not here to do that. There’s a war going on out there and—

Jezra: There’s always war. What’s new?

Zarnem doesn’t reply.

Jezra: You want to come and apologize. Is that it?

Zarnem remains unresponsive.

Jezra: What is it? I don’t want to play the silent game here.

Zarnem: Well, there’s war… and I don’t want to risk the chance of not ever getting to apologize to you. So yes. I’m here to say I’m sorry.

Jezra doesn’t appear to accept the apology.

Zarnem: And I’m glad you are taking the time to see me now. I guess that part means something.

Jezra: What was I supposed to do? Decline you while you wait at the front desk all day? I know you wouldn’t leave.

Zarnem: Yeah, but you still accepted.

Jezra doesn’t reply.

Zarnem: That’s gotta mean something.

Jezra looks at her hands and rubs her thumbs together. She takes a sign and glances over to Zarnem.

Jezra: You’re still my son… I’m disappointed in you, but you’re still my son.

Zarnem: I wanted to finally say what I’ve always wanted to say.

Jezra: And that is?

Zarnem: The pressure was too much.

Jezra: What pressure? Look at how far you’ve gone because of how much I pushed you.

Zarnem: Yeah… but…

Jezra: You’re going to put that blame on me now?

Zarnem: No, it’s not that.

Jezra: You’re going to put that blame on me now?

Zarnem: Can you just hear me out?

Jezra: You came all the way back over here to let me know I failed as a mother by believing in you?

Zarnem: Mom, please.

Jezra: Get a hold of yourself, Zarnem. If no one pushed you, you would’ve been nothing.

Zarnem: I could never be like, Dad.

Silence.

Zarnem: The pressure was too much. I don’t know how Dad did it. I still don’t. People still talk about him, and respectfully so. But it’s hard living in his shadow.

Jezra: There you go again. That defeatist mindset of yours.

Zarnem: Mom, please just listen for a bit.

Jezra: Listen to you whine and bitch?

Zarnem: But, I tried doing what I could to live up to his name. You all had expectations of me becoming anything close to how he was.

Jezra: And your attempt was to throw other people away to save yourself? You throw away Penim, your only friend?

Zarnem: Mom—

Jezra: And then you leave me behind to run away from your mistakes? Your father would’ve never done any of that.

Zarnem: See? That right there.

Jezra: You fucked us over Zarnem!

Zarnem: Because of all the stress you put me under after he died!

Jezra: I had to because your dad wasn’t around to push you!

Zarnem: You didn’t have to do it like the way you did.

Jezra: I had to be your mother and your father! Show some gratitude for once damn it!

Zarnem: I’m not saying I’m ungrateful.

Jezra: I fed you. I took you to school. I worked multiple jobs to provide for you! All you did was take it all, fuck it all up, and then run away!

Zarnem: Yeah, but then you had to bring Lessa into the picture.

Jezra: I needed help! I was doing things alone!

Zarnem: But, you and Lessa—

Jezra: I was never going to do anything with her, and you know it! I had a damn kid— you! An ungrateful one— you! She had money and power, and we lost everything after your dad died! We needed help! I needed help!

Zarnem: But you can’t just expect me to—

Jezra: Don’t try to turn this around on me! When the hell are you going to take ownership? When are you going to at least try to fix your fuck ups!

Zarnem: That’s what I’m trying to do now!

Jezra: Your father wouldn’t be proud of you! Don’t even bother calling him Dad. You’ll only stain his name!

Silence. Dead silence. Zarnem stood up.

Zarnem: There’s so much under this. So much. And we can’t even get past the first thing. I get it. We’ve been through a lot. We’ve hurt each other in so many unforgivable ways, and it seems like we both haven’t recovered yet.

Zarnem walks towards the door to leave.

Zarnem: I’ll return in a few years. Maybe then we can try to fix things up.

Jezra says nothing back and Zarnem leaves. As the door hissed shut behind him, Jezra’s hands trembled in her lap. Her eyes welled, the sharpness gone, replaced by something far more fragile. She turned her face away from the light, and without a sound, the tears began to fall—slow, steady, bitter. She wept alone.

A few districts away, across the softly humming lanes of Krutone, Sen, Dain, and Yerah were now joined by Shera and Makota, their laughter weaving into the low hum of ambient Intergy lighting that lined the curved hallways. The five of them stepped through the tall glass doors of the “Nova Dome Theatre”, where translucent pillars pulsed gently with shifting colors, guiding guests to their seats. Inside, the auditorium was immense—rows of plush seating stretched beneath a vast ceiling of digital stars, twinkling and shifting to the soft music that filled the air. They settled into their chairs near the center, the cushions molding subtly to their shape.

Dain: What is this again exactly?

Makota: No clue! Something to do with Intergy and thought it looked cool.

Shera: Woah! Look at them!

In front of the stage, musicians dressed in sleek concert black sat poised in the performance pit, their silhouettes framed by the low golden glow of recessed lighting. They carried instruments of all kinds—curved wind tools with spiraling valves, brass horns shaped like folded ribbons, and stringed instruments with translucent bodies that shimmered as they tuned. A few plucked quietly, others adjusted reed fittings or calibrated breath valves with gentle precision. The percussionist stepped in last, weaving between already-set mallet arrays, crystal-skinned drums, and circular chimes that hovered slightly above their stands, ready for the downbeat.

Yerah: Those are the musicians.

Dain (to Sen): Look at those instruments! Kinda cool huh?

Sen: Yeah…

Dain noticed Sen didn’t seem as excited. Then, the lights dimmed except for the stage.

The music began not with a melody, but a breath— an exhale of wind through crystalline valves, rising like a ghost over the hushed audience. A single tone shimmered from the pit, bending and warping, then fractured into a cascade of sound as the full ensemble joined in. Resonant chords poured from glowing strings, humming with harmonics that trembled the seats. Percussive pulses began beneath it all, soft and irregular— like footsteps in a temple— until a brilliant chime cut through the fog of sound and summoned the first dancer to the stage.

She emerged in a spiral of white flame, her body wrapped in coils of light-Intergy that shimmered gold and pale blue. With each step, the fire curled around her limbs, spinning outward like silk ribbons, never burning but casting light in delicate arcs. A second dancer entered opposite her— his feet crackling against the stage, frost blooming beneath his steps. Dark blue mist trailed behind him, the cold so intense it hissed audibly against the light she cast. They circled one another, opposites, but not rivals— each movement a question and answer. Their duet spun slowly into balance, fire and ice entwining in layered swirls as the music swelled.

Then came the storm. From above, suspended on anti-gravity wires hidden by shadow, a trio of aerial performers descended in mid-twist, lightning dancing between their hands. Sparks leapt from fingertip to fingertip, catching on their costumes— threads of conductive filament that made them glow like thunderclouds. With each beat of the percussion, they flipped and twisted in midair, bolts slicing through the air like blades in rhythm with the crashing rhythm below. The brass section beneath mirrored them— sound warped into metallic waves, vibrating through the dome’s floor.

Beneath them, a duo slid in across the stage, their feet trailing waves of condensed water that rose and fell like living brushstrokes. Their arms sliced through the air, summoning aquatic arcs that swirled into towers and spirals, which broke apart just as quickly into mist. As the strings joined, pulsing in steady rhythms, the water dancers bent the stage into a pool of mirror-like glass, every step rippling with controlled distortion.

Then, earth arrived— not slow, but in pulses. Dancers stomped into view, their limbs heavy with weighted movement. With each beat of the rhythm blocks in the pit, columns of stone shot upward from hidden panels in the floor, breaking into sculptural shapes as the performers leapt between them. Dust lifted in measured clouds, caught in beams of soft light from above, giving their steps a holy gravity. Their motions were not graceful, but reverent. Deliberate. Rooted. Suddenly, all at once, the dancers merged. No soloists now. Only a chorus of elements.

One performer shattered the rising stone into petals of debris, another turned it into glass with a heat-born kick. Water twisted around fire, steam erupting in choreographed jets across the stage in symmetrical bursts. Lightning traced the surface of the mist, forming glowing sigils that floated briefly in the air before breaking apart into tendrils that slithered across dancers’ arms. The music grew stranger— no longer melodic, but textural. Glissandos of breath-formed wind and string tremors rose to fever pitch while thundering rhythmic blasts from the percussion shook the dome in waves.

The performers converged center-stage. They moved in slow, orbiting spirals— each Intergy wielded deliberately, each element pouring from their hands, feet, and breath in perfect balance. As they circled, light gathered at the center— a flickering core of gold, azure, crimson, and violet. One by one, they cast their energy inward. Water fell like a curtain. Fire spun into a helix. Lightning folded itself into rings. Ice wrapped them all in a shell. Earth cradled it from beneath. Darkness pulled in the edges. And light… light pierced it all like a pulse.

The orchestra followed. Every section collided into one final chord— held, trembling, suspended. And then— the mass of Intergy exploded upward, not in violence, but in beauty.

From the collision rose a great bloom— an enormous lotus formed entirely of energy. Its petals shimmered in translucent color, each layered with shifting tones that bled between elements. Fire licked at the edges. Water coursed through its veins. Lightning flickered deep inside. Frost dusted the outer layer. In the center of the lotus hovered a seed of pure light, pulsing with quiet dignity.

Silence. The music ceased. The stage dimmed. The lotus slowly unraveled into particles of Intergy, raining softly down like stardust. Not a single person in the audience moved. Then the lights rose. And the Nova Dome gave them a standing ovation.

Yerah: Wow!

Shera: Absolutely beautiful!

Makota: Yep. We’re moving to Krutone!

Dain: Not bad at all!

Sen didn’t say anything. Yes, he was amazed, but he only clapped. Again, Dain noticed Sen’s demeanor, but still said nothing. The five of them walked out the theatre, navigating through the crowd. Finally, they waited outside the front doors.

Shera: Wow. I’m still amazed.

Yerah: Right? Beautiful!

Makota: That kind of coordination is something else!

The wristband around Sen’s arm began to ring. He was startled and so were the others. A green and red light luminated on opposite sides of his wristband. Sen touched the green light and flowed Intergy into it.

Jaze (voice from wristband): Hey, Sen?

Dain: Woah. Is that Jaze?

Sen: Jaze?

Jaze (voice): Yeah, it’s Jaze. Sorry, I never really fully explained how to use the wristbands huh? My fault. I forget that outsiders aren’t used to our stuff. Sorry about that. Anyways, you’re being summoned to Prism Tower. Zarnem is on his way over too.

Sen: Just me?

Jaze: Yeah. Just you. I don’t think the others are needed. They can just hang around Krutone.

Sen: Can I ask why I’m being asked to come over?

Jaze: Just a small update with President Kyto. If you can head over at this moment, I can let the president know you’re on your way.

Sen: Uh, yeah. Sure.

Jaze: Awesome. See you in a bit.

The wristband blinks and the glowing green and red light fade.

Dain: That is insane. You can talk to people with these wristbands? How do I use mine like that?

Makota: It’s used for payments also. I need to spend some time with this thing.

Shera: Yeah. Gotta figure out all the things it can do.

Yerah (to Sen): You’re gonna go?

Sen: Yeah. Not sure how long I’ll be gone for, but I guess I’ll just end up finding you all.

Yerah: Ok.

Sen walked alone. The path to Prism Tower was quieter now, the pulse of the city softening into its evening rhythm. As he passed through one of the outer plazas, a commotion pulled his attention to the side. A crowd had formed— dozens gathered behind silent barricades, holding signs with bold declarations: “Stop the Mutation Projects,” “Human Before Power,” “Intergy Is Not Consent.” Voices rose—not in violence, but in aching urgency. A woman near the front shouted about experiments done on unwilling citizens, while another wept into the shoulder of a man holding a poster with a child’s face crossed out in red. Sen slowed, watching. He didn’t know what to think, so he moved on. Prism Tower soon was before him. Waiting at its grand entrance, arms folded and expression tight, was Zarnem. His eyes met Sen’s, and he gave a slight nod—silent, but expectant. Together they entered Prism Tower and found their way to President Kyto’s office. There, Cayten, Prime Minster Esren, President Andin, Queen Lessa, Chancellor Forim and President Kyto himself seated at the center. Behind President both Jaze and Esako who then left the room as soon as Sen and Zarnem entered. Esako nodded once to Zarnem on his way out.

Kyto: Thank you for arriving so soon. Please be seated.

Sen and Zarnem took their seat at the table.

Forim: I heard you passed by Eztan, Zarnem. Didn’t care to say hello to me?

Zarnem: I was heading to Krutone as fast as I could.

Forim: Or you can just say you wanted to dodge me.

Cayten: Ok, ok. Let’s get to business. Gather up. You two can talk later.

Forim smiles once to Zarnem, then focuses to the meeting.

Kyto: I bring you here to discuss matters. The summit is almost complete.

Kyto clasped his hands calmly on the table, his voice smooth and articulate, carrying the composed gravity of someone always prepared to speak before history.

Kyto: I want to begin by expressing my deepest gratitude to all of you seated here. The presence of the world’s most capable and powerful leaders in this chamber is not just a symbolic gesture—it is a declaration. A declaration that we will not bend to fear. You have brought your finest soldiers, brave men and women who are willing to bleed for something greater than themselves. For that, Krutone stands in humble acknowledgment. And in return, we do not stand alone.

He made a subtle gesture to a panel beside him, and a holographic display shimmered to life, revealing a sleek formation of humanoid war machines— silver-bodied, blue-eyed, each one humming with tightly woven Intergy cores.

Kyto: Krutone’s defense will not falter. Alongside your troops, our automated military force— designed with precision, unburdened by fatigue or fear will be deployed across all coordinated zones. They will act with discipline. Without hesitation. Without error. These machines are not replacements for our soldiers, but reinforcements— amplifiers of order. With your cooperation and Krutone’s unmatched efficiency, we will restore balance to this world and bring this era of Zagon terror to its rightful end. This summit is soon to be complete. We are only missing Emperor Osin.

Zarnem: President?

Cayten: Do not speak out of turn.

Kyto: Yes, Emperor Osin is the final piece. He and I have come to an understanding— an alliance forged not in friendship, but in necessity. We have agreed to fight side by side to eliminate the Zagon threat once and for all. His forces will march alongside ours, his flag will fly next to Krutone’s, and together, we will end this nightmare with absolute force. The past may divide us, but survival demands unity.

Kyto glances at Sen then looks to Cayten who nods back at him. 

Kyto: Before we proceed further… Sen.

Kyto turned to face him fully, his fingers gliding across the panel embedded into the table’s surface. A new hologram shimmered to life, rotating slowly above the center. It was an image of Aku— his hood pulled back, the scar on his cheek visible, his gaze direct and chilling. Sen’s stomach knotted instinctively, but he said nothing. He allowed his face to shift slightly— his brows drawing inward, his breath catching just enough to seem believably shocked.

Sen: …What is this?

Kyto: This man— do you recognize him?

Sen (softly): …No. I’ve never seen him before. Isn’t that just me?

Kyto studied him for a beat, expression unreadable. Then he nodded once, folding his hands neatly again.

Kyto: This is Aku. We believe he is your twin brother.

The room fell briefly silent. Even Zarnem didn’t speak.

Kyto (continuing, voice smooth): We did not expect you to know. Records were altered. Identities separated. But it’s no coincidence the man behind the Zagon outbreak carries your face. This is why Lessa confused you with the name Aku.

Sen kept his eyes on the hologram, but his thoughts were racing.

Kyto: As you may recall— Sicrus spoke to you at Allatora. He said they were coming back for you. And Sicrus works with Aku.

He let that sentence hang in the air.

Kyto: They clearly want something from you. Whether it is to recruit you… or to use you… that we do not know. But their interest in you is confirmed. We believe Aku has The Orb. And if we’re correct… then all Zagon activity— the ambushes, the attacks, the chaos— it all traces back to him.

He turned off the projection. The silence felt heavier than before.

Kyto: This is why we need you.

Sen’s jaw tightened slightly.

Kyto: Not as a fighter. Not as a weapon. But as a tether. A lure.

He folded his hands again, his voice measured and firm.

Kyto: Your connection— familial or otherwise— may be the key to drawing Aku out, and once he emerges, we will act. Our combined military forces are more than capable of eliminating the Zagon threat. Our war machines, our soldiers, our world allies— we are prepared. We do not need you to raise a hand in combat.

He paused, and though his tone was calm, there was a chill behind his words.

Kyto: We only ask for your cooperation. How the trap is designed— that can be discussed later. For now, we need your willingness. That’s all.

Sen stared at the table, silent. His expression unreadable.

Cayten leaned forward slightly.

Cayten: Consider this your contribution, Sen. To peace. To justice. To your people.

Zarnem said nothing, watching Sen carefully.

Kyto: Please let us know if there’s a transaction that must be made to agree to this.

Sen finally looked up. He was recalling his conversation with Aku the night before.

Sen: So… I’m bait.

Kyto: No. You are an opportunity.

Another pause.

Sen: I want to know…

The leaders listened in.

Sen: I want to know about the system…

Cayten: The system?

Sen: Yes… the broken system.

Cayten: What do you mean?

Sen was stuck. He was unsure what he was looking for.

Kyto: We don’t need to act ignorant, Cayten.

Sen’s tension eased slightly.

Kyto: You want to know how the world works. That way you can decide if you’re making the right choices. Do I have that correct?

Sen: I think… yes…

Kyto: Understood.

The room fell silent again.

Kyto: Is that your only wish?

Sen pauses.

Sen: Yes…

Kyto: You wish to seek truth. I can agree to those terms.

Sen is unsure how to reply.

Kyto: Although, it would have to wait until tomorrow.

Sen looked confused.

Kyto: Allow Osin to join us at the table. He has planned to arrive in the afternoon. From there, we can share you everything, and you will work with us.

Sen met Kyto’s eyes, then looked down blankly at the table he was seated at.

Kyto: Do you have any other questions for me, Sen?

Sen shook his head slowly.

Kyto: Then you are dismissed. Zarnem, we thank you for bringing Sen to us. We will be in conversation later.

Zarnem nodded to Kyto then left the room with Sen. As they exited, Sen didn’t wait for Zarnem. He walked out alone. Kyto watched their body language and understood how little Sen respected Zarnem. Finally, the door slid close.

Lessa: Oh, he really thinks we don’t know.

Cayten: Let’s hope he doesn’t remove that wristband anytime soon.

Andin: Was the entire conversation with him and Aku recorded?

Kyto: All of it. They met last night in the Krutone Suites. His room.

Forim: He acted like he didn’t know who Aku was.

Kyto: That was expected. He doesn’t know who to trust yet.

Cayten: Can we trust he’ll work with us?

Kyto: Only if we tell him how everything works.

Andin: He calls it the broken system.

Cayten: How offensive.

Kyto: Give him grace. It’s the only way Aku described it to him.

Lessa: Oh, so we’re really telling him?

Forim: That’s dangerous. He could spill everything.

Kyto: He won’t.

Andin: How are you so sure?

Kyto: Because we’ll handle him like we’ve done everyone else who’s learned about our work. Once he’s finished cooperating with us, we’ll kill him in darkness and frame it as death in the war. We’ll remember him as a hero who sacrificed his life for our peace.

Forim: It’s about time we get rid of Zarnem also, right?

Kyto: That can be decided amongst you. Zarnem opposes no threat. He is weak. But Sen. He’s dangerous. More than he knows. We must eliminate him as soon as possible.

Lessa: Oh, lovely.

A small moment of silence. Kyto stands and begins to leave.

Kyto: Our system is not broken… It works perfectly— everything as intended.

Night. Sen and Dain sat side by side on a quiet hill just outside the main district, the neon pulse of Krutone sprawling beneath them like a living constellation. Towers shimmered in hues of soft lavender, gold, and deep sapphire, their reflections dancing across the glassy surfaces of distant skybridges and winding canals.

A low wind brushed the grass, stirring it in gentle waves around them. In the distance, one of the larger towers shifted its light pattern, cycling through soft pulses that faded like a heartbeat.

Dain leaned back on his hands, exhaling slowly. Sen sat forward, arms resting on his knees, his expression unreadable as he stared out into the light-soaked horizon. For a moment, neither of them spoke. The night felt fragile, suspended, like a breath waiting to break.

Dain: So, you wanted to talk? What’s on your mind? You’ve been upset since the morning.

Sen didn’t respond right away. His eyes narrowed slightly, not out of anger, but as though trying to see something far beyond the skyline. A thought. A memory. A version of himself he didn’t recognize anymore.

He sighed quietly, the sound barely audible over the soft hum of the city below.

Sen: Dain… I’m supposed to keep this to myself for whatever reason…

Dain turned toward him slightly, sensing the shift in tone. He didn’t press, just waited— steady, patient.

Dain: Ok, and?

Sen’s hands flexed once, resting against his knees. He clenched and unclenched his fists slowly before speaking again.

Sen: Did you know I had a brother? Sorry, have a brother? I have a brother.

Dain: Wait, what!?

Dain sat up immediately, his entire posture changing from relaxed to alert. His voice wasn’t loud, but it cracked with genuine disbelief.

Sen: Yeah… and he’s actually my twin.

Dain: You have a twin?

Sen nodded faintly, eyes still fixed on the city lights as though they could distract him from what he was saying.

Sen: I just found out too… and I’m not sure how to handle all of this.

Dain: And when did you find out about this?

Sen: Just last night. And I’m not supposed to say anything.

Dain’s expression tightened. He leaned forward now, mirroring Sen’s posture.

Sen: It was when I went back with Yerah to pick up my coat. Aku showed himself to me.

Dain: Is that why you were gone for so long?

Sen: Yeah… He knew I was coming.

Dain: Like, he was spying on you?

Sen: Something like that. But it gets worse.

Dain: Worse? Meeting with your long lost brother is a bad thing?

Sen inhaled deeply, his breath shaking on the way out.

Sen: He’s the reason… He’s the reason for all this.

Dain: What do you mean?

Sen: The Zagons. The destruction. The bombings. Everything.

Dain: Wait, hold up.

Sen: Or at least, that’s what he says.

Dain: And you believe him?

Sen: There’s no reason not to. Why would anyone lie about something like that? Why would anyone claim to be responsible for such a thing?

Dain: Ok, and how do you know he’s not lying?

Sen: Because he mentioned Sicrus.

Dain froze. The tension in his shoulders visibly stiffened, and he didn’t blink.

Sen: I never said anything about Sicrus. He just brought him up. Zan and Penim too.

Dain: No way. What’s your brother’s name again?

Sen: Aku. He said his name is Aku.

Dain: That’s the name Lessa called you.

Sen: Yeah. He has The Orb… He showed me.

Dain: Does he actually look like you?

Sen: Yes, but he’s different than me.

Dain: Well yeah, you’re not out here sending Zagons to kill people.

Sen: What I mean is, he felt different.

Dain: Ok? And?

Sen’s eyes flicked toward the sky, but there were no stars— only Krutone’s artificial glow. That seemed fitting.

Sen: It felt like talking to a mirror… A broken one. He looks like me. Same height. Practically the same face. The only difference is he felt different… He was there, but he wasn’t…

Dain: What do you mean?

Sen: He was present, but the room felt empty… I don’t know how else to describe it… And at the end when he smiled at me, it felt painful… I wasn’t sure if it was just me in shock or if I could sense… pain…

Dain’s gaze softened. He didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing.

Sen: The sight of him felt cold… I was having a hard time taking it in because looking at him was like looking at me, but dark.

Dain: So, what now?

Sen: I’m supposed to work with these leaders.

Dain: You mean with Kyto? From your meeting earlier?

Sen: I’m supposed to bait Aku somehow.

Dain: And you agreed?

Sen: I guess so… but they said they’d let me know about this system.

Dain: System? What does that even mean?

Sen: I’m just as lost.

Dain: And where’s he now? Your brother?

Sen: I don’t know.

Dain: You let him just leave?

Sen: I mean, I don’t know what else I was supposed to do.

Dain: Is he ever coming back?

Sen: Yeah, and he wants to talk to me after I learn about this broken system.

The silence that followed was dense— like a truth too heavy to set down.

Dain: This is actually insane. So you have a twin out there who has The Orb and is causing all this war with Zagons and is teamed with names like Sicrus, Zan and Penim?

Sen: We’re on the same page there.

Dain: But there’s something to do with the leaders of the world and you’re going to find out the truth?

Sen: Tomorrow, in fact. I’m supposed to return.

Dain: Does Zarnem know about Aku?

Sen paused, his brow furrowed as the question settled in.

Sen: No.

Dain: Why’s that?

Sen: I don’t know who to trust anymore. Aku speaks of Zarnem like a bad guy. And you already know I don’t trust Zarnem fully. I’m not sure if I can even trust Aku… I don’t know if there’s anyone I can trust now.

Dain turned fully toward Sen now, his voice lower, more grounded.

Dain: Well, you trust me right?

Sen: Well, yeah. You obviously. That’s why I’m talking to you about it.

Dain: Ok good. You better not lose trust in me for whatever reason. Does Yerah know?

Sen: No. I’m afraid I might scare her with this.

Dain: So, who else knows?

Sen: Just you and me.

Dain: And do you want to keep it that way?

Sen: Yes. If you can keep quiet about it too.

Dain: Got it.

The wind stirred the grass again, brushing across their backs like a whisper of something old and distant. They sat together in the silence, not needing to say anything more. The city glowed below, indifferent to the weight of their conversation. Eventually, they stood, stretching wordlessly before heading back toward the city lights.