The air was still, but no one trusted it.
The whispers had passed. The wind had judged them. Yet the survivors didn't relax. They clutched their weapons, huddled in small clusters, eyes flicking at every sound. It was the silence now that gnawed at them silence that felt like bait.
Ravi sat apart, pipe across his knees, gaze fixed on the archer.
Not here to survive. Here to see who else does.
Arjun hadn't flinched when he'd said it. Hadn't hesitated. Just dropped the words like stones in a pond, calm as ever, while the rest of them bled and broke.
Ravi spat blood into the dirt. His ribs ached, his skin burned from lashes of the wind, but the real wound was deeper. A thorn in his thoughts.
He doesn't care if I live or die.
Before Ravi could open his mouth, the system chimed again.
[Phase Transition Activated.]Debt on the Wind.]Objective: Repay what you owe. Failure invites collection.]
The cavern trembled. Dust drifted from the ceiling.
And then the wind returned.
Not soft this time. Not whispers. A gale tore through the cavern, howling, lashing like invisible whips. The survivors cried out, shielding their faces. Ravi planted his pipe into the ground, clinging to it as the storm threatened to drag him away.
In the wind came voices not the endless murmurs of before, but sharp, clear, cutting.
"Ravi."
He froze. The voice was too familiar. Too close.
"Ravi. You still owe me."
He looked up. Through the whirlwind, shapes formed. Half-seen, half-imagined, like smoke painted into figures. Faces he knew. Faces he had tried to forget.
The first was a man, thick-shouldered, sneering. His eye socket was caved in, his mouth twisted. The man Ravi had killed on the first day.
"You took my Coins," the shape rasped through the storm. "You never paid them back."
Ravi's stomach twisted. "You're dead," he spat. "You're not real."
But the wind howled louder.
Another shape formed. A boy this time, skinny, ragged, eyes hollow with hunger. Ravi's chest clenched. His little brother.
"You said you'd come back," the boy whispered. The wind carried his voice like a blade. "Said you'd bring food. You never did."
Ravi's knuckles went white on the pipe. His throat locked.
The survivors screamed around him, each trapped in their own storms, their own debts. One clawed at her arms, shrieking apologies. Another dropped to his knees, sobbing, begging forgiveness from shadows.
Arjun stood still.
The wind howled around him, but the archer didn't move. His face was calm, though the gale whipped his cloak and hair. If he heard voices, if debts whispered in his ears, he gave no sign.
Ravi's vision blurred with rage. He swung his pipe through the shapes, bellowing, "Shut up! You're not real!" The blow scattered the images, but the voices lingered, whispering, demanding.
"Ravi. Pay. Pay. Pay."
His brother's voice was worst of all.
"You promised."
Ravi staggered, knees buckling. His lungs burned, his chest shook. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think. The debt clawed at him, tearing him open from the inside.
And then fingers closed around his arm.
Arjun.
The archer's grip was steady, unyielding. His voice cut through the storm like steel.
"Debts can't be paid to the dead. Only to the living."
Ravi's eyes widened. The wind pressed hard, screaming in his ears, but the words lodged in his chest. He gasped, teeth gritted.
"Then I'll pay it forward," he growled.
He rose, pipe raised. The voices shrieked, shapes clawing at him, but he swung with everything he had. Again and again, shattering the phantoms, breaking the illusions.
The wind screamed, then faltered.
One by one, the shapes dissolved into mist. The voices dimmed. The gale weakened, fading into a soft breeze.
System text flickered across his vision:
[Condition Completed: Debt Paid Forward.]Reward: +1,000 Coins.]
The survivors collapsed in the silence that followed, trembling, broken. Some wept openly. Others just stared at the ground, hollow.
Ravi dropped to his knees, chest heaving, blood dripping from split lips. His vision swam, but he was still here. Still alive.
He looked up at Arjun. The archer stood calm, bow lowered, gaze distant. He had weathered the storm untouched.
Ravi laughed bitterly, voice raw. "You don't owe anyone a damn thing, do you?"
Arjun didn't answer.
And that silence was louder than any storm.