The wasteland of salt was unending.

  Whichever direction the group looked, all they could see was an endless stretch of white crystal formations.

  The crackling of salt beneath their boots was the only sound echoing as they walked, replacing even the rhythm of their breaths.

  "This is... demoralizing."

  Celeste pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, straightening her gaze ahead.

  "It is. Not letting it affect you is the hardest part."

  Nylon agreed, his answer calm and steady — the kind of support born of experience.

  "Still, you and I are assassins. We have a job to do."

  "We got the order..."

  His voice darkened, his steps purposeful as he glanced in her direction.

  Celeste matched his tone and gave a firm nod.

  "So we end the target."

  "Perfect. It’s as simple as that."

  Behind them, the twin Remnants watched their backs in silence, expressions mixed.

  "You two are strong," Kelsea finally spoke, unable to hold her thoughts any longer.

  "I..."

  Nylon paused, as if weighing his answer.

  "I might not be as strong as Celeste."

  "What do you mean?"

  The beastwoman narrowed her eyes, intrigued by his words.

  "You and I have different skills, but in the end, we're cut from the same cloth. Taught in different factions, raised with different tools... but we're both shadows meant to strike at the heart of our enemies."

  "And yet... we’re not the same."

  He stopped walking, and the others followed suit.

  "I don’t carry a tragic past like Celeste. I grew up with warmth. With love."

  "My heart... it was never cradled in darkness. I chose this life. I chose to close my heart for the good of our people."

  "I’m strong — but not because I had to be. I became strong because I decided to be. I endured my father’s training, broke and rebuilt my resolve again and again."

  His gaze drifted to the barren horizon, lost in old memories.

  "Killing an animal is one thing. You understand the need to kill simply to feed. You then respect the beast you ended. But a human? A beastman?"

  The group lowered their eyes.

  "Taking a life is straightforward. Easier, even, than hunting a wild beast."

  "But their eyes... they shine brightest just before death."

  It was his creed: to look into the eyes of every life he took. Not only to confirm death — but to honor it.

  "Clinging to a sliver of hope, they fight... even through their dying breath. That’s what made me strong."

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  He turned, his gaze sharp and wild — a flash of the predator within — but beneath it, they saw the truth: a man forged through trials, unshaken by the lives he'd taken.

  "The countless souls I ended during my days as Logran’s assassin — long before I ever walked Orion’s path — shaped the man you see today."

  His expression softened, giving the group a moment to breathe, to digest the weight of his words.

  "..."

  "Olivia was the one who gave me this life."

  Facing the twins now, Celeste stepped forward, her voice steady.

  "I was just a simple beastman girl. My parents were merchants, traveling between villages."

  "One day, our cart was attacked by beasts. I watched them get torn apart in front of me. I was helpless."

  "I was injured — badly — but survived. I crawled my way to the first city I could see. It was Noctelagia."

  Her eyes dimmed, glazed with darkness.

  "The moment I neared the gate, guards rushed out. I begged for help, pleaded for them to check the wagon. Maybe they could save my parents."

  The twins paled. They already knew where this was going. The past of the maids was often brought out during conversation.

  "They dragged me inside. Locked me in the basement with four other girls."

  "Claimed we were spies. Then... they cut my ears. My tail. Tortured us for days — laughing all the while."

  Dark magic seeped beneath her feet like oil, coiling up her limbs.

  "We were hanging by a thread. Barely alive."

  "Then she came."

  The light in her voice returned — just for a moment.

  "Take my hand!"

  "Don’t let this be the last chance you get at living!"

  "I need you by my side!"

  Even now, Olivia’s voice echoed in her mind.

  "It took me a year to push away those memories. A year to follow her orders, and learn to live again."

  "She taught us how to stand tall. How to reclaim our lives."

  "So we formed a unit. We protected her — and repaid the kindness she gave us."

  The magic surrounding her dispersed as she clenched her fists.

  "Working in the shadows became our life. We eliminated her enemies without mercy."

  She glanced at Nylon, her expression unwavering.

  "And why should we have shown mercy? To those who treated us like pests? The only person who saw us as people was the one we swore to protect."

  "So I got stronger. Strong enough to protect her — and the others — no matter what."

  Nylon stepped forward, pulling her gently against his chest.

  "And you are strong because of that. Your heart, your dedication... it’s all paid off."

  "Look at yourself. Is there anything worth criticizing?"

  She nodded faintly, a small smile returning to her lips.

  "Orion told me something after I asked him a question."

  —

  "Why do I use my power?"

  He paused.

  "To build a world where that power isn’t needed."

  "Where killing becomes only a thought, not a necessity."

  "A world..."

  He raised his hand toward the sky.

  "Where children smile — unafraid to lose their innocence."

  —

  "Maybe that path is new to him. Maybe he’s seen more than he lets on. He went through much in the past."

  "But in his heart, he dreams of that better world. A world where no child lives through what you did."

  Nylon’s resolve mirrored his brother’s. The road ahead wouldn’t be easy. Triazils was far from healed.

  But it was never meant to be a one-man journey.

  "We also..."

  Chelsea stepped forward. Kelsea joined her, as if pulled by the same string.

  "Want to see that world too."

  Both beastmen could see the fire rekindling behind their eyes.

  "That’s why we chose to follow Henrietta. We wanted to help change a world we ignored for too long."

  They pressed their hands to their chests, nodding.

  "And we need Orion and the others to do it."

  Nylon closed his eyes, firm in his belief.

  "Yes. Without them, there’s no clearing the weight pressing down on Triazils."

  The twins exchanged a glance — and something shifted. The shell cracked.

  "Then we’ll do what we must."

  "If reclaiming our mother’s soul is the way we support the ones striving to save this world... we won’t hesitate again."

  A flicker of flame ignited on their chests, startling the beastmen.

  Back to back, the twins raised their hands.

  "Trishula! / Trishula!"

  A shockwave burst outward, harmless but charged with raw magic.

  "Ugh!"

  The power drained them, but they endured it — fingers tightening as energy laced between them.

  Before the stunned eyes of the beastmen, a trident materialized — high, ancient, and humming with energy.

  The salt beneath cracked as the weapon touched the ground.

  "We’ve never summoned it before."

  "No... we never tried."

  Black flames flickered from their chests. Even holding it was a trial.

  "It only appears when both of us choose it — with full resolve."

  "What a strange weapon."

  Kelsea stepped back, letting Chelsea hold it.

  "It’s weightless."

  She raised it carefully, aiming at the horizon.

  Three lights formed at the trident’s tips — black, white, and deep grey.

  "Ah! Stop! Don’t fire it!"

  Chelsea lowered the weapon, her energy faltering.

  But Nylon and Celeste had already turned, tense.

  "You should fire it."

  Their eyes scanned the horizon.

  "We have guests. And they’re not friendly."

  A cloud of salt rose in the distance — disturbed by something fast approaching.

  The wasteland wasn’t empty anymore.