Paige clutched Cecilion's arm tightly as they stumbled through the broken woods, led only by scraps of memory and desperate instinct.
Each step felt heavier, and the silence pressing harder against their ears was beginning to worm its way into their minds already.
No birds. No wind. Just the brittle crunch of their footsteps and the frantic beating of their hearts.
Cecilion kept looking sideways — not just for danger, but for Zixuan.
Where was she?
The guilt clawed at him, louder than any voice.He thought he saw flashes of red and cinnamon — her uniform ribbon? Her hair? — but every time he turned, it was gone.
They moved for what felt like hours until Paige suddenly pulled him back, gasping.
"C-Cel... look."
Ahead, half-buried in the gnarled roots of a twisted tree, was a shoe. A delicate one — almost like a ballet flat, scuffed and torn, the laces snapped. Paige bent low and brushed away the moss clinging to it with trembling fingers.
