The night was silent—too silent. The bells had not rung since sunset. The golden chains that usually hummed faintly with power now lay dull and still. It was the silence of a city holding its breath.
From the roof of the shrine, Shino watched the temple's spires gleam under the moonlight. The Prophet of Chains had grown careless. He had tightened his grip too far, too fast. And now, the city was ready to break.
Below, shadows moved. Men and women, some with tools, some with nothing but their bare hands, crept toward the temple's square. The three men from the west wall were there. So was the boy, carrying a lamp.
Shino leapt down soundlessly and joined them.
"Tonight, the chains fall," one of the men whispered.
Shino said nothing. His gaze was fixed on the glowing temple doors.
---
When the bells finally rang, they were different—fast, panicked, off-rhythm. The Prophet must have sensed it: the shift in the city's heartbeat.
The great doors opened, and the Prophet of Chains stepped out, his mask glowing in the dark, his golden chains alive with crackling light. Guards rushed to surround him.
"Who dares gather here?" his voice roared. "Who dares defy the Light?"
This time, no one bowed.
A woman stepped forward, voice shaking but loud enough to carry. "You call it Light, but it has blinded us for too long."
The Prophet raised a hand, and one of his chains lashed out, striking the ground inches from her feet. "Then you will be the first to burn."
Before he could strike again, Shino moved. He was a blur across the square, his cloak snapping behind him. His hand caught the chain mid-strike.
The Prophet's mask turned toward him slowly. "You again."
Shino's grip tightened. The chain burned his palm, but he did not let go. "This ends tonight."
With a powerful pull, he wrenched the chain free of the Prophet's control. The glowing links shattered, sparks flying like fireflies. The crowd gasped.
Another chain struck toward him, but this time, others joined in—men with hammers, women with crowbars, striking the glowing chains that anchored the square. One by one, they broke.
The Prophet screamed, his calm mask cracking, voice losing its divine tone. "You fools! Without me, there is no dawn!"
"There will be a dawn," Shino said quietly, "but not yours."
---
The battle erupted. Guards rushed forward, but the citizens fought back with a fury born of years of silence. Shino wove through the chaos like wind through reeds—disarming, disabling, never striking to kill unless forced. His calmness was the eye of the storm.
At last, he reached the temple steps. The Prophet stood alone now, chains writhing like serpents around him.
"You cannot defeat the Light!" the Prophet bellowed.
"It was never Light," Shino said.
The Prophet unleashed every remaining chain at once. They came from every direction, a golden storm meant to crush him.
Shino closed his eyes, focused, and moved.
He did not dodge. He stepped through them, each motion precise, every strike cutting a chain, every breath timed with the flow of their power. The square blazed with golden sparks until the last chain fell, lifeless, to the ground.
The Prophet staggered, mask cracked, his power gone. The people surrounded him now, shouting—not in fear, but in victory.
Shino climbed the last step, standing face-to-face with him.
"Your chains are broken," Shino said.
The Prophet's mask fell to the ground, revealing a pale, terrified man. "You don't understand," he whispered. "Without the chains, there will be chaos. They need me."
"No," Shino said softly. "They only needed the truth."
He turned away, leaving the fallen Prophet to the people.
---
Dawn broke as the last chain was dragged into the square and thrown into a burning pyre. The golden glow lit up every corner of the city—not as a prison, but as a signal of freedom.
Shino stood apart, watching silently.
The boy approached, smiling through soot-streaked cheeks. "We did it," he said.
Shino looked at him, at the three men who had fought beside him, at the people beginning to tear down the Prophet's banners from the walls.
"No," Shino said. "You did it. I only lit the spark."
One of the men stepped forward. "Wherever you go next… we will follow."
Shino hesitated for a moment, then nodded. The first companions of his journey had chosen themselves.
He turned his gaze to the horizon. Somewhere beyond this city, other chains waited to be broken.
The wind shifted, carrying away the last ashes of the Prophet's rule.
And Shino walked on.