Dawn crawled over the forest, pale and trembling, washing the world in the color of ash. Smoke still lingered from the night's distant sins, curling through the trees like ghosts seeking what they'd lost. Birds did not sing; even the wind seemed to flinch. Among the fading embers and silent huts, something moved slow, deliberate, unseen—a shadow walking beneath the newborn light, carrying the scent of blood and fire.

The little boy's dark eyes glowed with curiosity. Seeing him, Veythor smiled, and Shimi froze; her breath hitched.

"Oh no."

Two words escaped her mouth, thin and raw. Panic lingered in her chest... the boy was still too small to understand anything that had happened here.

As he stepped into the crime scene, Veythor thought, Let's make him part of the game.

His smile widened, but this time the smile held no crude malice; instead it was the soft, disarming smile you might see on a saint's lips. The little boy returned the smile, shy and ingenuous... his half-grown teeth lending an awkward, innocent charm that had yet to meet the world's cruelty. For a moment Veythor's eyes trembled; his crimson pupils contracted, a flicker of something almost like memory passing through them.

I was just like him, wasn't I? he asked himself, though the question lived only in the dark of his thoughts.

Kind, small, innocent—once a bright smile that made people's hearts easy. But that light had been buried beneath a single ambition now. A wish.... a desire that tasted hollow. To reach eternal rest, he thought, I must destroy the world. No matter the cost, I must achieve my goal.

The little boy's gaze drifted to Dasha, but he could not quite understand what had been done to her. Shimi watched Veythor, waiting for what he would do next; fear and pleading mixed on her face. Veythor's expression was slow to answer; he looked at her deliberately.

"Go and wake Raika," he said.

Shimi's eyes fell to Raika. Her hand clenched, her face folding with sorrow.

"Oh, Raika," she thought, the name forming but not leaving her lips.

"What if he doesn't wake? He seems still unconscious," she whispered, voice thin and barely audible. A cold breeze cut across them like an arrow as she spoke. Veythor smirked, eyes half-lidded.

"Then… it's simple," he said. "We'll abandon him here."

Shimi froze. Her eyes widened. This was not the Veythor she remembered the protector who had sheltered her and Raika from many dangers. His previously said, righteous words had always impressed and steadied her, but now he felt different, distant.

"But—" a hint of disagreement found her lips. Veythor cut her off, voice flat and unyielding.

"But what? You can't agree? Then I have another idea for you."

Hope, fragile as it was, kindled in her chest for an instant but then his next words crushed it.

"You can stay here with him and die as you wish."

Her hope collapsed like a house of straw. She couldn't argue anymore.

"There's no time to waste. Dawn is falling over our heads—the sun will come soon. The tribe will wake up before long. We must hurry," Veythor said, looking toward Shimi. His smile was gone. Shimi's face twisted with confusion.

"What do you intend to do?" she asked.

Veythor smirked again. "Burn down everything."

This time Shimi did not look surprised. Her face was unreadable; she made no movement at all.

If I hesitate anymore he'll surely abandon me and Raika.

She thought as her lips trembled a bit. She then looked at him with a empty look. Then again she started talking.

"But how? Even if you set their houses on fire, there are too many. Before they all burn, people will escape and surely chase us… How did we even end up here?" she pressed.

Veythor's expression did not change his eyes held no empathy or pity. "To be honest, it's all your fault that we are here. But that's a long story to tell now."

Shimi's face tightened with confusion. What? My fault? Putting that aside... what do you intend to do?"

His eyes gleamed faintly and he smiled. "If you want to destroy an eagle, what will you do?"

She frowned as confusion twisted her head. "An eagle? Maybe—break its wings."

"Exactly." His tone was flat yet it still reeked of amusement.

She still looked puzzled by everything. She couldn't understand how will he destroy a big tribe like this. "I still don't understand."

"To destroy them... mentally and physically... we'll first burn their resources, then their houses. As soon as the fire starts doing its work, we'll escape from here,"

Veythor chuckled, the sound low and unbothered. Shimi's face twisted; frustration crept across her features.

"I do understand that… but what I don't understand is how?"

Veythor, calm and composed, shifted his gaze toward the little boy who had almost faded into the background. He raised a hand and gestured for the boy to come closer. Shimi stared at him, confusion tightening in her chest.

What is he even trying to do?

The question echoed inside her mind. The boy hesitated, small and uncertain, but after a moment, he shuffled forward. Veythor's expression softened into a kind smile... too kind.

Ever since the day my mother died in my first life, he thought, I've forgotten how to truly smile. This expression... bright, warm, kind is nothing but a petty act to deceive. I wonder… what does my real smile look like now, in this third life?

He laughed softly at his own thought. The smile stayed on his lips as the boy came to stand before him. Veythor bent down slowly, his crimson eyes glinting faintly in the dim light.

"What's your name?"

His tone was gentle... too gentle like honey poured a thousand times through silk. Shimi stared in disbelief.

What the hell? Is he acting… or is this real?

She found no answer. The dark-skinned boy tilted his head, smiling with shy innocence.

"My name ish… Bantam," he said, his words small and broken.

"Oh, so Bantam… how did you wake up so early?"

Bantam scratched his head, and for a fleeting moment, the forest itself seemed to resist what was about to happen. But Veythor didn't care; his resolve was already carved in stone.

"I woke up because of a weird sound. But who are you? Are you new to our tribe? Will you play with me?"

Veythor's smile widened. Shimi froze, eyes wide as if she'd seen a ghost.

"Me?" Veythor said softly. "I'm just a traveler passing through this tribe. And yes, Bantam… I'd love to play with you."

Shimi pressed her palm to her forehead.

Is this really Vey? Or am I looking at someone else entirely?

"Yayyy! You'll play with me!" Bantam laughed. "You know, only big sister Dasha plays with me. Everyone else doesn't take me in their play…"

His voice trailed off, a pout forming on his lips.

"Big brother," he said after a pause, "why is big sister Dasha lying there like that? And what's that red thing around her?"

Bantam's eyes blinked with innocent curiosity. Veythor's gaze darkened slightly, but his voice remained calm.

"Her? We're just playing a game. And if we don't finish it… she'll never wake up again."

The venom beneath his kind tone went unnoticed by Bantam, who gasped in horror.

"No, no! I don't want that! If she doesn't wake up, who'll play with me?"

Veythor reached out and gently ruffled his hair.

"Then, Bantam," he said softly, "you have to play this game with me to save her. Will you do that?"

"Yes… yes, I'll play," Bantam said quickly—too young to understand the cost of trust.

"You have to do everything I say. Will you?"

Veythor's voice dropped to a whisper, calm yet chilling.

"Okay," Bantam murmured. Shimi's face lost its color. Her trembling hand shot forward and caught Veythor's wrist.

"What will you do with him?" she asked, her voice breaking, sorrow lacing every word. Her other hand clenched tightly at her side.

Veythor turned to her, his expression freezing over. When he spoke, his voice was low and heavy as iron.

"If you want to survive… do not question my decisions."

His words struck her like a blade. She faltered back, heart stinging, as Veythor took Bantam's hand and began walking toward the tribe.

The dawn had yet to rise. Shimi stood frozen in the dying dark, staring after them.

"I… should wake Raika now," she whispered.

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