The temple was still. Too still.
Lengaza, Raya, and Nyra sat near the remnants of a fire, quiet, each lost in their own thoughts. The drawing lay between them like a ghost they'd summoned.
Nyra looked up.
"How much of what you are… do you even remember?"
Lengaza didn't answer right away.
"Fragments. Names. Feelings. Rage."
Raya added gently, "But not the choice he made to protect everyone. Not yet."
Nyra stood and walked toward the edge of the room.
"Then maybe it's not the past we need to worry about…"
A cold wind swept through the ruins.
Lengaza's head snapped up.
"We're not alone."
The Watcher stood high above them on the shattered roof beams, his silhouette blending with the darkness. A mask like molten stone. Eyes glowing red.
Raya froze.
"No… That's not just a soldier."
"That's a Collector."
Lengaza rose to his feet. His hands curled into fists.
"What's a Collector?"
"Not what," Nyra said, stepping back. "Who. They erase those who remember."
The Watcher leapt down—silent, smooth, deliberate.
His voice was warped, like it came from a thousand radios all at once.
"You have interfered, Lengaza. Return with us. Or be unmade."
Lengaza didn't move.
"You erased me once. I came back."
The Watcher took another step.
"Then this time… I'll erase everything connected to you."
And just like that—he vanished.
Boom.
Nyra was slammed back into the wall. Raya screamed as smoke exploded through the room. Lengaza shouted their names—but couldn't see through the haze.
And then—silence.
When the smoke cleared, the Watcher was gone.
But so was Raya.
Only her necklace remained on the ground, humming softly.
Lengaza dropped to his knees.
"No…"
Nyra limped forward, grabbing his shoulder.
"We'll get her back."
His voice was low.
"No."
"We'll burn them down."