A chill swept the broken cathedral as the whispered warning hung in the air.
"He's back."
Elias froze. Seraphina stiffened beside him, her hand instinctively drifting toward the dagger at her thigh.
"Who said that?" Elias growled, eyes scanning the gloom.
From the ruined archway, a familiar shape emerged—limping, shadow-cloaked, half his face lit by the dying sun.
Varek.
"Miss me?" Varek smirked, tossing a broken blade to the floor. "You two lovebirds look cozy. Didn't mean to interrupt."
Seraphina stepped forward, tense. "I thought you were hunting the rogue Obsidian faction in the east."
"Funny thing... they were hunting me." His gaze flicked to Elias. "But I didn't come for you. I came to warn you. He knows. The Obsidian Boss knows you're both here... together. And he's not sending lackeys this time."
A heavy silence fell.
"How long?" Elias asked.
"Hours. Maybe less," Varek replied, his grin fading. "They're coming. All of them. You're the final loose end."
Seraphina paled slightly. "They want to clean the slate."
"Exactly," Varek nodded. "And this time, no mistakes. No survivors."
Elias' fist tightened. His mind raced—not as Silas, not as Elias—but as something new. Someone who refused to die.
"Let them come," Elias muttered. "We end this tonight."
But Varek wasn't done. He glanced at Seraphina, voice lower now. "You didn't tell him, did you?"
Seraphina's breath caught.
"Tell me what?" Elias' gaze sharpened.
Varek smiled darkly. "Better ask your lady here. Secrets have a nasty way of ruining trust, my friend."
And with that, Varek turned and vanished into the shadows, leaving only the tension behind.
Seraphina looked at Elias. Silent. Torn.
"Seraphina," Elias said quietly, dangerously, "what aren't you telling me?"
Rain began to fall outside, the cold wind howling through the broken glass.
The war was coming.
And trust was running out.