They left just after dusk.

Kaelen mounted first, followed by Yolti.

“You sure you don’t want me to teach you how to drive this thing?” he offered. “You can ride solo.”

Yolti folded her arms. “I’m not crashing into another tree, thanks.”

Selka had already taken the lead pulse bike, piloting it with quiet confidence. Zephryn stood in the doorway, scarf still around his neck.

Solara waved one last time. “Be safe, you hear me? Don’t outrun your hum.”

Then they were gone.

And so was the silence.

About twenty seconds into the ride across the water, a sound shattered the calm.

BOOM.

Kaelen jerked the handles, almost losing control. “What was that?!”

Yolti turned, eyes wide. “That was from the cliffs—Zephryn’s hut!”

They turned without thinking.

As they broke through the treeline again, smoke rose thick and black. The hut—gone. The earth around it scorched, pulse residue flickering like dying fireflies. The air reeked of something unnatural.

Kaelen was off the bike before it stopped. “Zephryn! Solara!”

Yolti skidded across the shoreline, falling to her knees. “Wait for me—he’s my friend too!”

They split up, searching desperately through wreckage and ash. Splintered wood. Shattered bowls. A single, half-burned plate still steaming.

“Solara!” Kaelen’s voice cracked.

Yolti’s steps slowed. She looked toward the cliff. Her breath caught.

A scarf.

Hanging from a branch at the cliff’s edge.

She walked toward it like sleepwalking. Reached. Lifted.

Her scream ripped through the night.

Kaelen ran to her side. “Yolti—what is it?!”

Then he saw it.

Down below, broken against the rocks like a forgotten star, lay Solara’s body. Motionless. Unmoving. Alone.

Zephryn… was gone.

And so was the hum.