The tent is quiet once more, but the weight of Zinov's words lingers.
Asdri slowly exhales, eyes drifting toward the flickering lantern above. Then, a sudden thought crosses his mind. His expression tightens.
"…Any news about Alix?" he asks.
The question hangs in the air.
Zinov pauses near the flap, half-turned. His brows knit. "I was about to ask you the same thing."
Pyke sits up straighter, running a hand through his mess of hair. "After the event, he just disappeared. The person we tasked to keep an eye on him? Vanished too."
Ingra frowns. "Wait, what? Disappeared? You mean literally no trace?"
Asdri's fingers curl into the blanket. His voice is low, but sure. "My intuition is always right. That guy—he's not just a Tier 4."
Ingra tilts her head, eyeing him. "Is that your sixth sense acting up again?"
