The air inside their shelter was thick with the weight of Walker's words. His quiet, unshaken declaration of vengeance lingered in the silence, like the final note of a dirge refusing to fade. Hope could still hear the faint scrape of the rusted dagger against Walker's calloused fingers, an idle motion that spoke of a patience honed by years of waiting.
Hope let out a slow breath, tilting his head back against the rough stone wall behind him. His gaze flickered toward Kelvin, who had remained silent for some time.
"What about you?" Hope asked. "What are you going to do if you survive this trial?"
Kelvin shifted slightly where he sat. Then, without a word, he raised his hand, and in an instant, his armor—scratched, dented, yet still gleaming under the moonlight—began to dissolve. The process was mesmerizing, like watching embers drift into the wind. Light particles shimmered around him, flowing like a river of stars, until they were drawn back into him, absorbed into his soul sea.
A heavy exhale left his lips.
"So tiring and draining," Kelvin muttered, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off an invisible weight. Without the armor, he looked... different. The rigid, imposing figure he had cut moments ago softened slightly, revealing a man beneath the steel rather than just a warrior.
Then he turned to Hope, his expression thoughtful.
"If I survive this?" he repeated, his tone quieter now, more introspective. He glanced toward the ruins beyond their shelter, where the Ashlands stretched into endless darkness. "I'll try to become more powerful... and protect those who don't have the power to protect themselves."
Hope didn't respond immediately. He studied Kelvin's face, the resolute set of his jaw, the unwavering certainty in his eyes. There was no hesitation, no doubt in his words.
A slow, tired sigh escaped Hope's lips.
"A sense of responsibility, huh?" he mused.
He tried to understand it, to grasp the meaning behind Kelvin's conviction, but it felt foreign. Protection? Defending others? It was almost laughable. Hope had spent his entire life looking out for himself because no one else ever had. The idea of fighting for others, of carrying their burdens, felt as distant as the stars in the night sky.
People were cruel. Unreliable. Selfish.
To Hope, survival had always been a solitary thing.
Kelvin must have noticed the flicker of skepticism in Hope's eyes because he turned his gaze fully onto him, his expression unreadable.
"What about you?" Kelvin asked.