The night air was cool, carrying the faint scent of pine and wet soil. Crickets chirped beyond the grassy fields, their chorus the only sound aside from the crunch of footsteps as Damien and Lyone trudged toward Delwig's looming gates.
Fenrir padded silently at Damien's side, Aquila stalked behind with wings folded tight, and Luton pulsed lazily on Lyone's shoulder as though the little blob found their slow return amusing.
For a long while, neither spoke. Lyone's legs burned, but he clenched his jaw, forcing himself to keep pace.
Damien's stride was steady, almost unbothered, as if he'd just taken a leisurely walk instead of reducing an underground complex to rubble.
Finally, Lyone broke the silence. His voice was quiet but edged with curiosity.
"Damien… how?"
Damien glanced sideways, brows lifting slightly. "How what?"
