Sakura spotted Indigo at the end of the observatory corridor—broad-shouldered, arms crossed, standing still as stone while the city wind threaded through the open archways. His presence was quiet, watchful, but it radiated the kind of strength that never needed to shout.

“Skipping out on the Hollow run?” she asked as she approached, voice casual but edged.

He didn’t turn. “I wasn’t skipping. I was never going.”

She came to stand beside him, peering sideways. “You okay with that? Letting the others drop into chaos while you stay behind sniffing the wind?”

Now he looked at her—one eye deep green, the other a sharp red that never quite softened. “You know, my senses picked up something wrong three nights ago. East of the Spire. Cold iron, sulfur, a tear in the air.” He paused. “It wasn’t Faye’s trail. It was older. Hungrier.”

Sakura’s teasing vanished. “Does Sage know?”

Indigo gave a faint shake of his head. “He’s focused on Faye. I don’t blame him. But if I go on this escapade, the scent will dissipate.”

She exhaled. “So this is your mission.”

“It’s not about orders. It’s about balance.” His jaw flexed. “Faye’s not the only signal. Just the loudest. I follow the quiet ones—the ones that rot from underneath.”

Sakura leaned her elbows on the stone ledge. “You’re not even going to say goodbye, are you?”

“I already did. They just didn’t realize it.”

She shook her head, smirking despite herself. “You're infuriating.”

“And you're loud.”

“Be careful,” she added.

“I always am,” he replied—and then, softer, “But you, too. I’m not the only one walking toward something sharp.”

Sakura nodded, “I will be fine. And I’ll keep Rose safe. You're gonna share why the smell made you run?”

Indigo shook his head, “Not until I'm sure of it.”

“As long as you don’t go crazy over it.” Sakura sighed.

“I won’t. But I will get to the bottom of it.”

“I figured as much. Be smart. I'm gonna go check on Rose. See you later,” Sakura smiled, then walked downstairs.

Indigo looked back out the window. “There’s no way The Revenant has Amethyst’s smell.” He turned away and walked to his room.

Downstairs, Oscar stood beside her at the long stone table, carefully passing her ingredients with quiet precision—dried whispervine, a vial of distilled lightroot, a pinch of ground obsidian. Rose worked swiftly, her movements fluid and certain, muttering under her breath as each potion shimmered into life.

Around them, the others were immersed in their preparations. Eustace sat in the corner with a stack of thin silver-plated scrolls, tracing warding glyphs into each one with the tip of his gloved finger. The rune would flicker, then lock into place with a sharp hum.

Mahou was sharpening the edge of his blades, each stroke deliberate, his expression unreadable but focused. When the steel gleamed to his satisfaction, he set them aside and turned to the map, scanning its lines again—once, twice, a third time—until every path was etched into memory. Only then did he shift to his leathers, fingers tightening each buckle with ritual precision, as though the act itself steadied him for what lay ahead.

Sakura paced in a slow loop by the wall of enchanted gear, movements fluid and deliberate. Her hand hovered briefly over smaller weapons but passed them by—she already had what mattered. Resting against the far rack was her scythe: obsidian-forged, its curved blade etched with silent lightning. She traced the handle once, checking the balance, the weight. Near its base, she slid a vial of winter-frost into its fitted slot with a practiced flick.

She didn’t speak. She didn’t need to. Her thoughts were already beyond the room—threaded deep into the coming dark of Virelia Hollow.

Everest was checking the supply packs, lining them up in order and reinforcing the straps with spellthread knots. His brows were furrowed in thought, already calculating escape routes and fallback signals in case things unraveled.

Sage remained by the doorway, arms crossed, watching everything with a quiet intensity. He hadn’t said much since the briefing, but his gaze flicked between each movement with sharp awareness—especially when it paused a little longer on where Kenan was previously..

Oscar glanced at Rose as she sealed another potion. “Last one?”

“For now,” she said, sealing the cap with a cork branded in frost ink. “Thanks for the help. Go gear up—I’ll finish packing the vials.”

Oscar gave a small nod and stepped away, still half turned toward her as if reluctant to leave.

The room pulsed with quiet urgency, but underneath it, there was calm—readiness. Every click of a latch and snap of a potion case pulled the moment closer to dawn.

And whatever waited in the dark beneath Virelia Hollow.