The trail narrowed as they moved north, winding through rocky formations carved by rivers of ash. The silence between the four of them was comfortable now — no longer the silence of mistrust, but of shared survival.

  Rukk, always at the rear, seemed more and more a part of the group. A pillar of living stone, obedient only to Selene, but respecting the others with the patience of a creature that understood time in a different way.

  They camped between two stone walls, beneath a natural ledge that shielded them from the light rain that had begun to fall.

  Kael prepared the fire. Andrel adjusted minimal detection runes.

  Lysa sharpened Veyla’s dagger, eyes fixed on the blade's tip, but her thoughts far beyond it.

  Selene, sitting cross-legged, traced patterns in the dirt with her finger: curves, symbols, and shapes that resembled paths. But not roads. Veins. Capillaries.

  “The Code fails, you know?” she said suddenly.

  They all turned to her.

  Selene continued without lifting her eyes.

  “Not often. But sometimes. In forgotten places. Places too old to be erased.”

  Andrel tilted his head.

  “How do you know that?”

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  “Because I was born near one of those places. I saw the Code vibrate wrong. I saw runes erase themselves. I saw commands refuse to work. And I heard... things.”

  Lysa stepped closer.

  “What did you hear?”

  “Names without sound. Voices that didn’t come from any mouth. Questions. Like the world trying to remember something forgotten before it was even born.”

  Kael frowned.

  “And what else?”

  Selene looked up.

  “There was an old man who wandered through there. Mad. He said he could see the places where the Code was ‘born crooked.’ He carried a leather scroll no one could open. But at night... he would draw on the ground. And the drawings... changed.”

  She traced a new symbol in the dirt.

  A closed eye.

  “They called it the Living Map. Said it showed, in real time, the fractures. The points where the System doesn’t have full control. Where everything that was written... begins to fade.”

  Lysa felt her chest tighten.

  “That could lead to the Three Echoes.”

  Andrel’s eyes widened.

  “Of course! If they’re reflections of the Root that was never planted, it makes sense they’d be where the Code couldn’t take hold.”

  Kael, still skeptical, asked:

  “And this old man? Where is he?”

  “They say he vanished after marking the last point on the map. But the final mark was... close to where we’re heading. Near the Intermediate Tower.”

  Lysa stood.

  “Then we’ll find him. Or what he left behind.”

  Selene nodded.

  “Just be careful. The Code’s failures... aren’t just failures. Sometimes, they look back at you.”

  Night fell heavy.

  Rukk stood guard, unmoving as a statue.

  The four slept close, but Selene stayed awake, eyes fixed on the dark sky.

  Elsewhere on the plain, not far away, five hooded figures watched them from atop a hill.

  Noble robes. Austere silhouettes. Runic masks that concealed their faces, but not the weight of the blood they carried.

  The one in the center spoke, voice low and cold:

  “The Zero who commands the beast has joined the offenders. They are growing stronger.”

  Another replied:

  “And if they find the Living Map... they’ll see what must not be seen. We must end this, before the Supreme Executor appears.”