The upper tower of the Nimōnban was quiet.

  Not the kind of quiet that settles in naturally, but the kind that lingers—like a breath held too long. The corridors stretched pale and polished beneath the nightless sky, windows cracked open just enough for the drifting hum of Tamashkii to seep through.

  Inside the captain’s chamber, two voices murmured low.

  Captain Sada Uemura sat on the inner edge of the meditation ptform, back straight, gaze unfocused. His coat hung neatly from the corner post, but his Shinsei-Gai still sat heavy across his shoulders.

  Across from him, Lieutenant Imani leaned forward, elbows on her knees, her voice sharp but quiet.

  “You’ve been walking the perimeter more.”

  Sada didn’t answer at first.

  Then—

  “You’ve been pacing again.”

  Imani smirked faintly, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “Maybe I picked it up from you.”

  Sada let out a small breath. Almost a ugh.

  But neither of them smiled long.

  The silence returned.

  Imani leaned back. “You think it’s true?”

  Sada didn’t ask what.

  “The Elders resealing her Reibaku.”

  He closed his eyes.

  “I do.”

  Imani looked away. Her tone dipped.

  “I tried to join the Jumōnban once.”

  Sada opened his eyes.

  “You never told me that.”

  She gave a dry chuckle. “Didn’t st long enough to be worth telling. Got to the third trial. She was waiting for me there.”

  A pause.

  “Koharu.”

  Her voice held no bitterness—just awe.

  “She didn’t speak. She didn’t flinch. Just took a single step… and I couldn’t move. Like the realm itself was warning me.”

  Another silence.

  “And now they’re saying that beast ran out of Tamashkii.”

  Sada looked toward the far window. His tone was low.

  “She didn’t run out.”

  Imani raised a brow.

  “She spent it.”

  He folded his hands in his p.

  “On shielding us. On holding the Chūkan together.”

  A beat passed.

  “As a Captain… I’m ashamed of myself. But as her friend…”

  His voice softened.

  “I couldn’t be prouder.”

  Imani watched him. Then nodded once.

  “She’ll come back stronger.”

  “She always does.”

  Outside, a gust passed the window. The candlelight flickered.

  And then—

  Footsteps.

  Not rushed. Not hesitant.

  Measured.

  They grew closer.

  Stopped.

  A knock.

  Knock. Knock.

  Imani blinked once, then looked at Sada.

  He nodded.

  She raised her voice just slightly.

  “Come in.”

  The door slid open with a faint shhhh.

  A shadow stepped into the light.

  Watari.

  His coat hung slightly open, his gaze calm—but unreadable.

  He looked between them both.

  Then spoke.

  “If you won’t tell us what’s going on…”

  A pause.

  “…then I am here to pass the final test.”