They were not alone.
Ira realized it before she heard him.
The weight inside her chest shifted—subtly, uneasily—like a held breath changing rhythm.
"Devansh," she murmured, "someone is here."
He stilled.
"No one enters Vayukshi without my knowing."
"Then," she said softly, "someone who has been here before is standing behind us."
Silence.
Then—slow, deliberate applause echoed across the terrace.
Devansh turned.
The man leaning against a broken pillar did not belong to this city.
His clothes were travel-worn. Dust marked his boots. His eyes held something Vayukshi had not reflected in centuries.
Time.
"Well," he said lightly, "you're slower than you used to be."
Devansh's expression hardened.
"You should not exist," he said.
The stranger smiled.
"Funny. That's exactly what they said when I left."
Ira studied him. Dark hair tied loosely back. A thin scar across his jaw. And around him—pain that did not sit correctly inside a mortal body.
"Who is he?" she asked.
The man answered before Devansh could.
"Rehaan," he said. "Once Chiranjiv. Now… unfinished."
Devansh's voice lowered. "You broke the binding."
Rehaan's gaze slid to Ira. His smile faded.
"No," he said. "Someone else did. Long before you found her."
Ira's chest tightened.
"You can leave this place?" she asked.
"Leave?" Rehaan echoed. "Yes. Escape?" He shook his head. "No."
He stepped closer.
The heaviness inside Ira surged violently.
"You carry him," Rehaan said quietly. "All of him."
Devansh moved between them.
"That is none of your concern."
Rehaan's eyes never left Ira.
"It's everyone's concern," he replied. "Because if she's awake…"
He inhaled slowly.
"…then the one beneath the city will be waking too."