Theo scratched the back of his head as the silence stretched through the church, thick and awkward enough to feel almost physical. The lantern above the altar flickered softly, casting long shadows that crawled along the stone walls like they hadn't quite decided where to settle.
Ezikiel was still on the ground.
Not sprawled out anymore— just sitting there now, propped on one arm, breathing a little too hard for someone who'd been playing smug merchant a minute ago.
He looked shaken in that quiet, ugly way people get when their sense of control has been ripped out by the roots.
And me?
I was busy arguing with the voice inside my head.
Not my voice.
Aetherion's.
[My friend, shouldn't you go after him?]
His tone was almost disappointed. Like I'd missed the second act of a play.
'I can't ditch the supplies,' I thought back sharply. 'And splitting up right now is stupid. You know that.'
[Ah. Practicality. My eternal nemesis.]
I exhaled through my nose and turned toward Ezikiel, who was finally dragging himself upright.
His legs wobbled slightly as he stood, fingers digging into the edge of a pew for balance.
The confident swagger from earlier was gone—replaced by something rawer.
Fear, probably.
"What the fuck was that?" he snapped, voice cracking in a way that betrayed how rattled he actually was. Annoyance layered over panic, poorly stitched together.
Theo shifted beside me. "He's been reported missing for a few days," he said, still sounding vaguely stunned. "In his hometown."
Ezikiel froze mid-breath.
I took the opening. "To keep things simple," I said coolly, "he really wants to keep this town in check. And I guess that extends to your… business practices? Scams? Whatever you would like to call it."
I shot him a sharp look.
He stared at me for a heartbeat too long.
Then his face twisted.
"Scams?!" he barked, suddenly storming toward me.
His hand shot out, fingers grabbing my tie and yanking me forward hard enough to make my collar bite into my neck.
"Oh, you planned this, didn't you? You knew he'd show up. Thought you'd squeeze me for a discount, huh?"
[Oh! Physical confrontation!]
Aetherion sounded delighted.
[We've escalated from economics to violence. A fascinating progression.]
I didn't give Ezikiel the satisfaction of flinching.
Instead, I grabbed him right back—fist twisting into the collar of his shirt, pulling him just as close. Close enough to see the sweat at his hairline. Close enough that he could hear my breathing.
"We may not look like it," I said lowly, every word deliberate, "but we're sophisticated enough to not rely on underhanded, scummy methods. Unlike you."
I pulled him another inch closer.
"So why don't you let go," I continued, voice steady, "take the money, and give us our god damn supplies—before our associate decides to come back and finish his sermon."
Theo stepped in beside me, close enough now that Ezikiel had no illusions about being able to overpower either of us. His posture shifted subtly—ready, alert. Not threatening. Just… present.
A few seconds ticked by.
Ezikiel's jaw clenched. His grip tightened once—then loosened.
"Tch."
He shoved me away and took a few steps back, straightening his coat with shaking hands like he could iron dignity back into it by force alone.
He snatched the money from the nearby pew and jammed it into his pocket, eyes flicking nervously toward the church doors.
"Take the damn supplies," he muttered. "And don't bring that guy back here."
[How disappointing,] Aetherion sighed.
[I was hoping for a dramatic finale.]
I adjusted my tie slowly, heart still pounding harder than I liked.
'Trust me,' I thought. 'That makes two of us.'
Theo grabbed the supply bag and slung it over his shoulder.
"Can we go now? I've officially had enough church for one night."
I didn't argue.
As we turned toward the exit, I glanced back once more.
Ezikiel was still standing there, pale beneath the lantern light—no longer a smug merchant draped in confidence, just a man who'd been abruptly reminded of how small he really was in the grander scheme of things.
For a brief moment, I almost felt sorry for him.
Almost.
As the church door creaked open behind us—
[Careful, my friend,] Aetherion murmured, his voice smooth and amused.
[I can feel resentment crystallizing nicely in our dear merchant. A fragile thing, resentment. Sharp edges.]
'You don't say,' I replied dryly. 'What gave it away? The death stare or the near-hyperventilating?'
[Both. But mostly the way he'll replay this conversation every night before sleep for the next couple of weeks.]
The night air rushed in, cool and sharp, cutting through the stale incense and tension we left behind. It felt like surfacing after being underwater too long. I took a deeper breath than necessary as Theo pulled the door shut behind us.
Supplies secured, nerves still humming, we stepped back into the quiet streets.
The town had settled into a subdued nighttime calm—lanterns glowing warmly along stone paths, distant laughter drifting from somewhere near the center. Peaceful. Almost deceptively so.
Theo and I both slowed unconsciously, eyes sweeping the street.
We were looking for the same thing.
Or rather, the same person.
"Disappeared without a trace, huh?" I muttered, checking the time on my watch more out of habit than necessity.
Theo huffed quietly. "At least we know he's been lurking around the city center." He glanced sideways at me. "You think he's also looking into the Pale Shore's Cores?"
"Probably," I answered without hesitation. "I don't see why else he'd extend his paid leave. Not with how strict the Bureau is. I imagine it's even worse for the security department."
Theo nodded, then frowned. "Honestly, I'm less worried about him and more worried about our merchant friend back there."
His voice dropped slightly. "What if he packs up and leaves? We'll need a new food source outside town."
"That won't happen," I shot out quickly.
Theo slowed, eyebrow lifting as he shot me a sideways look. "That was fast."
I cleared my throat. "I mean—uh—logically speaking, he won't blow the deal. If he was planning to bail, he would've said something. Or hinted at it. People like him don't just… disappear quietly."
[You place a touching amount of faith in a man whose profession is deception,]
Aetherion mused.
[It's almost endearing.]
'I'm not trusting him,' I shot back internally. 'I'm just… extrapolating based on incentives.'
[Of course you are.]
Theo didn't look entirely convinced, but he let it drop as we continued walking. The rest of the way passed in relative silence, punctuated only by distant footsteps and the soft clink of supplies shifting in Theo's bag.
It didn't take long to reach our rental.
Warm light spilled from the living room windows, a comforting contrast to the cool night outside. The moment we stepped in, the atmosphere shifted—less tension, more familiarity.
Mira was already waiting.
"What took you so long?" she asked immediately, arms crossed, eyes narrowing the second we crossed the threshold.
Silva, seated nearby, greeted us with a nod followed by three slow blinks.
Which, based on experience, translated roughly to: You're alive. Acceptable. Maintain this standard.
Theo let out a long sigh. "Long story," he muttered, already bracing himself.
[Ah, the council assembles,] Aetherion remarked.
[Now comes the interrogation.]
Mira's gaze flicked between us, clearly unsatisfied. "You better start talking."
Theo glanced at me, then back at her. "Trust me," he said, rubbing the back of his neck, "you're going to want to sit down for this."
I set the supplies down carefully, feeling the lingering weight of the night finally settle in my shoulders.
Somehow, I had the sinking feeling this town was done pretending to be quiet.
[You handled yourself well, my friend,] Aetherion added softly.
[But do remember… moments like these have a habit of echoing.]
'Aetherion please— let me enjoy the evening without your apocalyptic foretell.'