The shack was quiet except for the groans of exhausted men and the scratching of rats in the walls. Kael lay awake, staring at the rope no more than an arm's length away.
It glimmered faintly in the moonlight through the cracks, its frayed fibers like veins waiting to carry him into silence. Every night it called. Every night it promised freedom.
My chest tightened. I felt him drift closer, his hand twitching toward it.
"Just one night," Kael whispered inside me, his voice weary. "Just one step. No more chains. No more lashes. Just rest."
The temptation pressed against my ribs. My throat went dry. I remembered the rooftop, how simple it had seemed. One step, one fall. I had thought death would mean peace. Instead, it had led me here.
"Kael," I whispered into the silence. "That rope isn't rest. It's the beginning of something worse."
He didn't answer. His eyes stayed fixed on the rope. His breath slowed, as if picturing the knot tightening around his throat.
I leaned harder into his thoughts, forcing every memory of the pit back into his mind. The screams. The flames. The endless torment. "You know what waits. You've felt it already. Don't fool yourself—this rope doesn't end your suffering. It multiplies it."
His chest rose and fell, trembling. His hand hovered… then dropped back to his chest.
Tears slid into the dirt beneath him. Silent. Bitter.
The rope was still there. Still waiting.
But for one more night, it remained untouched.