The Raven's Warning
The fire crackled softly. Thomas, Luke, and the bearded man sat around the modest table, steam rising from their bowls. Outside, the wind howled through the trees like it always did now.
It had been a year since the raven's first warning.
Now it came daily, black wings slicing through the sky, bearing grim news: cities fallen, lives erased, demons gaining ground. The war outside was no longer a battle—it was a merciless slaughter.
Perfect City still stood. Untouched. Surrounded by woods and a demon army that hadn't moved in months.
Why? Thomas wondered. Why wait?
He looked up. "Bearded man, you still haven't told me your real name."
The man chuckled, stroking his thick gray beard. "I've grown used to the title. My name doesn't matter."
Thomas smirked. "Still, I'd like to know it. So I can send you a postcard or something."
Laughter broke out between the three of them brief, warm, human.
Luke had changed. Stronger now. Sharper. The katana sword the bearded man had gifted him gleamed beside him, etched with sacred symbols. He wielded it like it was part of him.
"It feels good to laugh," Thomas said.
Luke nodded. "You got that right."
Thomas turned to the bearded man. "At least I leave you smiling."
The man's eyes softened. "You've come a long way. It's only right you fulfill your call."
Thomas stared into the fire. "I've been cooped up in the tunnels… I've forgotten what the world looks like."
Luke leaned forward. "If you go, I go."
Thomas shook his head. "It's dangerous. You've got a better chance of surviving here."
Luke's voice was steady. "Thomas, the only reason I'm alive is because of you."
Thomas reached out. They clasped forearms firm, resolute. A silent vow.
The bearded man watched them quietly, then smiled.
"Eat up. You two have a long journey ahead."
Thomas, Luke and the bearded man sat quietly, but they all thought the same thing, There Is Hope.