The sky was dark gray as Dex walked down the stone path, The air felt heavy, not because of the fog, but because of the smell of iron, dust, and coal lingering in the air.
In the distance, there was a city seemingly gripped by time, half-collapsed buildings standing beside new glass towers reaching high.
The city's name was Valeford.
Dex walked slowly, His cloak stained with road dust, his mask kept in an inner pocket.
He looked just like an ordinary traveler, no different from the hundreds of others wandering aimlessly on that cracked road.
But his eyes caught every detail — barefoot children running through black puddles, an old woman crouching before her doorless home, and far up on the highlands stood a small palace clad in white marble. Distant, yet clear, its walls gleamed with artificial light, as if defying the gray sky above.
Dex paused for a moment.
"Two worlds in one city," he murmured softly.
The wind blew gently, carrying the scent of oil and ash.
He continued toward the lower market, There, the bustle did not bring life, only exhaustion.
People sold whatever could be salvaged from the ruins of mines outside the city — rusted iron, cracked magic stones, remnants of old weapons.
A middle-aged man approached, offering a copper ring.
"This can bring good luck, sir, They say this ring came from the ruins of an ancient era."
Dex looked at the ring, The metal bent, its surface rough.
"And can luck save you from hunger?" he asked flatly.
The man fell silent, then chuckled dryly. "At least it can make me survive one more day."
Dex looked at his dirty face but clear eyes, There was something there, a foolish yet genuine resolve.
He took out a silver coin and handed it over without a word. The man bowed deeply, thanking him repeatedly.
Dex simply walked away.
'Humans truly are strange creatures,' he thought. 'They know hope is a lie, yet still embrace it as their final truth.'
---
Evening approached,
Dex sat under a cracked stone bridge, chewing on a hard piece of bread he'd bought. Across the small river, a group of children played with stones and sticks, laughing in the mud.
The sound of their laughter was genuine — no fear, no sorrow.
He watched them for a long time, then spoke softly,
"Even in a place like this, they can still laugh."
There was a hint of wonder in his tone, though his eyes remained cold.
But the laughter stopped suddenly.
Several soldiers arrived, dressed in black-silver uniforms, golden eagle emblems on their chests.
They dragged several adults from nearby houses, The sound of whips split the air.
Dex didn't move, He just watched.
"Tax collection," murmured a woman nearby hoarsely. "If they can't pay, they're taken to the palace for forced labor."
The woman lowered her head, hiding her face under her hood.
Dex stared at a soldier beating an old man until he collapsed.
'Law, Discipline, Power,' he thought. 'Three words always used to justify oppression.'
He bit into the rest of his bread and stood up.
Not out of anger, Not out of pity,
Only because the sight had become too dull to see again.
His steps were light as he approached,
The air around him began to vibrate, Dust on the ground slowly lifted, floating softly like glass grains in the evening light.
One of the soldiers stopped, sensing the strange air. "Hey, you! Who are you—"
His voice cut off.
A burst of invisible wind struck his chest, throwing him several meters without blood, without a scream, His body fell silent like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
The other soldiers panicked, raising their spears.
But before they could move, everything fell silent, The air seemed to freeze, time slowed,
Dex stood in the middle of the street, his cloak fluttering gently, No sound, no noise, only a soft gust carrying silence.
One by one, the soldiers fell,
No visible wounds, only bodies that had lost their souls.
The children watched from behind the ruins, their eyes wide.
The woman who had hidden earlier looked at Dex, torn between fear and awe.
"Who are you, really?" she asked.
Dex looked up at the darkening sky, then answered without turning,
"Justice."
He turned away, leaving them frozen in fear.
---
Night fell, The lower city drowned in the dim glow of old torches, While on the hill, the palace of the city's ruler shone brightly, filled with music and laughter.
Dex sat atop one of the taller buildings, watching toward it. From here, he could see the lavish party — nobles dancing, wine flowing, while below them people starved.
"This world is amusing," he whispered. "They call suffering the price of progress."
He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the wind carry the sounds from afar — soft music, greedy laughter, the cry of a child — All blending into one.
In that silence, he smiled faintly.
'I once thought that after a thousand years, humans would change, But it seems they only learned to hide their wounds more beautifully.'
Footsteps echoed behind him.
A young man appeared, carrying a thin sword at his waist. His clothes were tattered, but his eyes were sharp.
"I knew you weren't ordinary," he said. "You took down those soldiers easily. Did you come to punish them?"
Dex glanced at him briefly. "Why would I do something so foolish?"
The young man was stunned. "You don't want to change anything?"
Dex shook his head. "I'm just passing through, and I have no obligation to, do I?"
"What?"
Dex looked down, at the dimly glowing poor city below.
"How many people are willing to live in lies for a bit of safety?"
The young man fell silent. His eyes wavered.
"I… don't know."
Dex stood, walking across the rooftop toward the hill.
"Then maybe you'll find out if you keep living a little longer," he said lightly.
The wind cloaked his steps, his figure slowly fading into the night fog.
The young man watched his retreating back, then whispered, "Coward."
---
A few hours later, in the palace ballroom, the music stopped.
The doors swung open by a gust of wind that came from nowhere, Crystal lamps swayed, the wine in glasses trembled.
A noble stood with a pale face. "What was that, an earthquake?"
No one answered.
Only a faint voice came from the open window.
"If you want to oppress, do it quietly, But if you make it too loud, I can hear it."
The voice was calm, Almost gentle, But the entire room froze.
Then, one by one, all the candles went out.
When the light returned, only the feast table remained — empty.
In the air, only the faint wind remained, carrying the scent of spilled wine.
---
The next morning, the townsfolk found the palace doors open, No guards, no nobles, Only cloth and jewelry scattered across the floor.
They didn't know what had happened, but for the first time, the city felt peaceful.
In the distance, at the edge of the forest, a man in a dark jacket walked along a narrow road.
Dex, with his hands in his pockets and a casual stride, hummed a tune.
The wind blew gently around him, carrying faint echoes from the city behind.
He looked toward the brightening horizon.
"Humans are always fascinating," he murmured. "They destroy what they love, then learn to live from what's left."
A faint smile appeared on his face.
"I suppose this journey isn't boring yet."
He kept walking, while behind him, the city of Valeford awoke from a nightmare it never realized it had,
And the wind, once again, became the only witness to what truly happened that night.