The alley behind the outer houses was narrow and quiet, filled with the scent of cold earth and smoke from distant chimneys. Kael leaned against the rough wall, catching his breath, while Lira stood with her back to him, still holding the faded sigil cloth in one hand.
"You knew they were coming," he said.
She didn't turn.
"I knew they would come. Not when."
Kael pushed off the wall. "And you were ready for them. That glyph. The way you spoke. You didn't hesitate."
"I couldn't afford to."
He stepped closer, voice low.
"You said you were just a girl in a forgotten village. But that wasn't your first time dealing with them."
"No."
"Then what are you?"
Lira finally faced him. Her eyes were tired, not from running or fear, but from holding something in too long.
"I'm someone who's already lost too many names to care about mine."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one you'll get tonight."
Kael folded his arms. "You're hiding more than just your past."
"So are you."
He opened his mouth, then closed it. The fire inside his chest was back—not burning, but smoldering, waiting.
"I didn't mean to flare," he said. "It just happened."
"That's what worries me most."
They stood in silence, the air between them taut and quiet. Then Lira tucked the sigil back into her collar and sat on a low stone ledge beside an old well.
"When you touched the recorder," she said, "you didn't just activate it. You bent it. Memory doesn't obey instinct like that anymore."
Kael lowered himself beside her.
"What did you mean earlier, when you said 'you were never meant to forget this much'?"
Lira's hands folded in her lap.
"Because I remember what they did to you."
He turned sharply. "What?"
"I didn't lie when I said I knew you. I did. I do. Not everything. Just a piece. A fragment the Vault didn't erase."
"And you didn't tell me?"
"I needed to be sure. The Wipers don't just follow surges. They follow stories. If I'd told you yours too soon, it might have lit the whole world on fire."
Kael stared at her.
"Then tell me now."
She looked up at him, her voice barely audible over the wind.
"Not yet."