Isaac stood perfectly still. Hands tucked in his pockets, mask unreadable.

  Across from him, Veyra the Hollow watched.

  Not with the curiosity of someone meeting a stranger.

  Not with the wariness of someone encountering an intruder.

  But with the quiet amusement of someone who had expected this moment for a very, very long time.

  Isaac had spent the last few minutes assessing the situation.

  He had unlocked a sealed ruin.

  He had found a figure that wasn’t supposed to exist.

  And he was still alive.

  So, naturally, his first thought was...

  Did that thin, sharp-eyed bastard send me here to die?

  Because that would be very disappointing.

  Isaac wasn’t the paranoid type.

  But he also wasn’t stupid.

  And the more he thought about it, the more something felt off.

  The thin, sharp-eyed man had given him a name that most people didn’t even know existed.

  He had hired Isaac, knowing exactly what he would do.

  He had sent him to a place that no one had returned from.

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  Isaac clicked his tongue, shifting his weight slightly.

  Had he done something to offend a man he had only just met?

  He was careful with his contracts. Never took jobs that interfered with major players unless they paid a fortune.

  But maybe...

  Maybe this wasn’t about money.

  Maybe it was about removing a problem.

  And maybe, he was the problem.

  Huh.

  That was almost flattering.

  Veyra said nothing at first.

  She simply observed him, her dark, endless eyes studying him like a puzzle piece she was still placing.

  But in her mind...

  Thoughts moved quickly.

  This one was different.

  Not a hero.

  Not a seeker of knowledge.

  Not a fool chasing power he didn’t understand.

  He was something else.

  Something that didn’t quite belong here.

  And yet, here he was.

  A visitor, unarmed yet unafraid.

  A courier, wrapped in the weight of the world’s unseen paths.

  A man who delivered things.

  So why had he been sent here?

  Isaac exhaled through his nose.

  Then, with the same relaxed, unbothered tone he used when bargaining over gold, he asked.

  “Do you have any idea why someone would want me dead?”

  Veyra’s head tilted slightly, that faint, amused smile never quite fading.

  “No.”

  Isaac studied her for a moment. “That was a fast answer.”

  “Because it is an obvious one.”

  “Obvious? How?”

  Her black eyes gleamed.

  “Because if they truly wanted you dead, you wouldn’t be standing here.”

  Isaac let that sink in.

  Then, finally, he chuckled.

  “Yeah. Fair enough.”

  Isaac took a slow step forward, boots barely making a sound against the smooth stone floor.

  “Alright.” he continued. “Let’s say I wasn’t sent here to die.”

  Veyra nodded.

  “Then that leaves another question.”

  He motioned to the chamber, to the sealed ruins, the writings, the way time itself seemed to bend around this place.

  “Why were you locked away?”

  Veyra didn’t answer immediately.

  Instead, she lifted a single hand.

  The air shifted.

  The walls whispered.

  And for the first time since entering this ruin, Isaac felt it.

  The weight of something far older than magic itself.

  Veyra’s voice was calm.

  “Because I was remembered.”

  Isaac blinked once.

  That was… not the answer he expected.

  And yet, he could tell she wasn’t lying.

  Which meant one thing.

  This conversation was just getting interesting.