Strax didn’t respond immediately after the implicit decision that had formed between them, but the slight movement of his body already indicated that, for him, it was settled. He took a step forward, approaching Ouroboros with the same firm calm he had maintained since she woke up, without haste, without abrupt gestures, as if any excessive movement could break the still fragile balance she maintained.

"Let’s go," he said, in a low tone, closer to an invitation than an order.

Ouroboros didn’t respond with words this time. She only nodded slightly, almost imperceptibly, before trying to get up on her own. The movement was slower than she would have liked—her body still carried the weight of the fall, the impacts, the struggle—and, for a brief second, there was a slight imbalance, a subtle displacement that revealed how much she was still not fully recovered.

Strax noticed immediately.

Without commenting.

Without drawing attention.

He simply extended his hand.

Ouroboros looked at her for a moment.

There was a brief conflict there—something quick, almost instinctive—but unlike before, she didn’t hesitate for long. Her fingers moved, still slightly tense, before intertwining with his.

The contact was firm.

Warm.

Stable.

And sufficient.

With his support, she stood up completely, adjusting her balance little by little until she was fully steady. Her shoulders still carried a little tension, but it wasn’t the same rigidity as before. There was something different now—not an absence of fragility, but a conscious attempt not to be dominated by it.

Strax didn’t let go of her hand. 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

And, to no one’s surprise—not even hers—Ouroboros didn’t let go either.

They began to walk.

Scarlett and Tiamat followed close behind, without comments, without interruptions, respecting that small space that had naturally formed between the two ahead. The forest enveloped them in its tranquil darkness, the sound of leaves crunching under their footsteps and the gentle rustling of the wind through the branches creating a steady, almost hypnotic rhythm.

Ouroboros walked beside Strax, a little closer than usual. Their fingers remained intertwined, and although their gaze still wandered occasionally, there was less hesitation in their movements. The anxiety hadn’t completely disappeared—their fingers still squeezed Strax’s lightly from time to time, almost unconsciously—but there was something new there.

Confidence.

Or, at least... the beginning of it.

When they finally emerged from the forest, the change was immediate.

The city rose before them, illuminated by a series of lampposts lining the streets, creating a striking contrast with the natural darkness they had left behind. The buildings were not rudimentary like many of the northern cities Strax had conquered; There was a different kind of care in the architecture, a sense of organization and aesthetics that resembled something more... evolved.

The houses and buildings featured more refined details, with ornate facades, tall, symmetrical windows, and structures that blended dark stone with polished wood, all illuminated by a warm light that made the environment more vibrant, more welcoming. There was an almost Victorian touch there—not just in the construction, but in the way the city breathed.

More orderly.

More developed.

Strax observed this as they walked through the streets, his gaze taking in the details with genuine attention.

"Interesting," he murmured, more to himself than to the others, but loud enough to be heard.

Ouroboros glanced around briefly as well, but didn’t comment.

"One day Asgard will be like this," he continued, now with a slight trace of conviction in his voice, his eyes still analyzing the surrounding environment. "More structured. More... alive."

There was no arrogance in it.

It was planning.

Vision.

Ouroboros remained silent.

But his fingers lightly squeezed his for a moment.

A small gesture.

But not an empty one.

They continued walking, guided by Scarlett and Tiamat, who had clearly already memorized the path during their brief previous exploration. The movement in the city was moderate—some people were still walking the streets, talking, going in and out of establishments, but nothing chaotic or excessive.

It was the kind of place where they could go unnoticed.

And, at that moment—

That was exactly what they needed.

The inn soon appeared before them.

It was a two-story building with a simple but well-maintained facade, illuminated by lanterns hung near the entrance. A wooden sign hung there, swaying slightly in the night breeze, and the interior seemed welcoming at first glance, with warm light escaping through the windows.

Tiamat was the first to enter, without hesitation, pushing the door open naturally while the others followed close behind.

The interior was even more comfortable than the exterior suggested. The faint scent of wood, food, and drink filled the air, and a few people were scattered throughout the main hall, conversing quietly or simply enjoying the evening.

Behind the counter, a middle-aged man looked up as soon as they entered.

And stopped.

For a full second.

His eyes swept over each of them. First Strax.

Then Scarlett.

Then Tiamat.

And finally, Ouroboros.

He blinked.

Once.

Twice.

And then he discreetly cleared his throat, as if trying to readjust his posture.

Tiamat approached the counter with firm steps, resting one hand on the wooden surface while keeping her gaze directly on him.

"We’ve reserved a room," she said, directly, without beating around the bush.

The attendant nodded quickly, still clearly processing the group before him. He turned for a moment, picking up a small set of keys before returning, but not without casting another glance—this time more carefully—at them.

Three women.

One man.

All... striking.

He couldn’t help it.

He leaned slightly forward, resting his elbow on the counter as he extended the key to Tiamat, but before handing it over completely, he murmured, in a low, almost conspiratorial tone:

"...what a lucky guy."

Tiamat raised an eyebrow.

Scarlett looked away, clearly holding back any more visible reaction.

Strax said nothing.

But a slight, wry smile appeared.

Ouroboros—

She stood completely still for a second.

And then looked away, her face slightly turned to the side, as if that observation had been... inconveniently accurate on some level she didn’t want to explore at that moment.

Tiamat took the key without commenting directly, but let out a small sound through her nose, something between disdain and slight amusement.

"Mind your own business," she replied dryly, but without real aggression.

The clerk raised his hands in immediate surrender, a somewhat awkward smile appearing on his face. "Just commenting," he said.

But clearly not regretting it.

Tiamat simply turned her back, already beginning to walk away from the counter, making a small gesture with her head for the others to follow her.

And they followed.

Climbing the wooden stairs that led to the upper floor, the sound of their footsteps echoed softly in the silent corridor while the soft light of the lanterns on the walls guided their way to the room.

Ouroboros still hadn’t let go of Strax’s hand.

The upstairs corridor was silent, illuminated by a series of lanterns fixed to the walls, whose warm light created soft shadows that stretched across the polished wooden floor. Their footsteps echoed in a controlled way, not loud enough to attract attention, but present enough to mark the rhythm of that transition—from the tension of the forest to something more... contained. More human.

Tiamat walked ahead, twirling the small key between her fingers with an almost distracted movement, but perfectly coordinated with the rest of her body. She showed no hesitation in her choice of location, and that, in itself, spoke volumes. Scarlett followed closely behind, keeping her gaze fixed on her surroundings, as if evaluating every detail of the place even after having already chosen it, while Strax and Ouroboros followed slightly behind, still side by side.

Her hand remained intertwined with his.

It was no longer a hesitant gesture.

It was... natural.

Even if recent.

When they finally stopped before the bedroom door, Tiamat made no ceremony. She inserted the key into the lock with precision and turned it with a sharp click, pushing the door open immediately afterward. The interior was gradually revealed as the light from the hallway flooded the space and met the already lit interior lighting.

The room wasn’t luxurious in the exaggerated sense of the word.

But it was also far from simple.

There was space.

Much more than expected.

The room was spacious enough to accommodate them all without any feeling of tightness, with well-distributed furniture, carefully crafted dark wood, and fabrics that were clearly not of low quality. A small table near the window, two chairs, a discreet wardrobe against the side wall, and dominating the center of the space—

The bed.

Large wasn’t a sufficient description.

It was spacious enough to accommodate three, perhaps even four people without any difficulty, with clean sheets, well-positioned pillows, and a firm structure that suggested real, not improvised, comfort. The kind of bed that didn’t exist in ordinary inns, and not without cost.

Strax entered first, his eyes scanning the room with a silent analysis, absorbing every detail with the same strategic attention he applied to any new situation. Scarlett followed soon after, carefully closing the door behind her, while Tiamat took a few steps inside, as if completely at ease there.

Ouroboros entered last.

Her eyes took a little longer to adjust to the interior lighting, but when they did, she observed the room with slower, more detailed attention. There was something almost... curious in the way she analyzed the space, as if she were comparing it to something internal, something she didn’t verbalize.

Her fingers, still intertwined with Strax’s, finally let go.

But not abruptly.

It was gradual.

Almost reluctantly.

She took a few steps forward, stepping back slightly, letting the space between them exist again—not as before, not as emotional distance, but just... physical space.

Her gaze went straight to the bed.

She observed it for a few seconds.

Calculating.

Confirming.

Yes.

It was big enough.

But she didn’t comment.

Instead, her gaze drifted to the side, where a smaller door, integrated into the wall, discreetly caught her eye. She approached, driven more by instinct than deliberate curiosity, and turned the doorknob.

The door opened.

Revealing the interior.

A bathroom.

And not just functional.

Spacious.

Well-lit.

With a finish that clearly followed the same pattern as the rest of the room—well-polished stone, a sizable bathtub, organized utensils, and a level of care that didn’t match cheap accommodations.

Ouroboros stood still in the doorway for a few seconds, observing in silence, as if absorbing more than just the physical space.

Then, without turning completely, only tilting her head slightly to the side, she asked:

"How much was this room?"

Her voice was neutral.

But there was something there.

A suspicion.

An anticipation.

Tiamat, who was casually leaning against the wall, didn’t hesitate to answer.

"Five gold coins."

The silence that followed was immediate.

And collective.

Strax stopped.

Scarlett blinked once.

Ouroboros turned her face completely.

And the three looked at Tiamat at the same time.

Nothing needed to be said.

Their gaze said it all.

Why didn’t you say that before?

Tiamat held the gaze for a second.

Then two.

And then—

She shrugged.

Simple.

Unconcerned.

"We weren’t going to stay in a crappy place," she said, as if that completely closed any possible questions.

And, for her—

It was over.

Scarlett exhaled a small puff of air through her nose, crossing her arms as she looked away for a moment, clearly holding back any more direct comment, but not disagreeing.

"Five gold coins isn’t exactly ’discreet’," she commented, still in a calm voice, but slightly laden with practical logic.

Tiamat inclined her head.

"It’s discreet enough," she replied. "Nobody here will care who pays well."

There was truth in that.

But there was also... Tiamat being Tiamat.

Strax observed the exchange in silence for a few seconds before letting out a slight, small but present smile.

"You chose well," he said finally.

There was no criticism.

No reprimand.

Just an observation.

Tiamat gave a small nod, satisfied.

"I always choose," she replied.

Ouroboros slowly closed the bathroom door, still looking at Tiamat with an expression that mixed slight surprise and something harder to define—not disapproval, but... adaptation.

"Five gold coins..." she murmured, more to herself than to the others.

Her eyes returned to the bed.

Then to the rest of the room.

And finally—

She nodded slightly.

As if accepting.

Not just the value.

But the choice.

There was something curious about that reaction. Hours ago, she probably would have questioned more, provoked, made some sharper comment. But now... no.

Now, she just absorbed.

Adapted.

And perhaps—

Trusted.

She walked slowly to the bed, lightly running her hand over the fabric, testing the texture almost unconsciously. Her fingers were no longer as restless as before. There was still occasional movement, still remnants of tension, but it was... diminishing.

Scarlett approached the window, slightly parting the curtain to observe the outside, her eyes analyzing the movement of the street below, confirming that, in fact, they hadn’t been followed or noticed in any significant way.

"Quiet place," she commented.

Strax nodded.

"For now," he added.

Tiamat approached the bed as well, looking at it with slight interest, as if assessing her own future comfort.

"It fits four," she said.

Scarlett glanced quickly over her shoulder.

"Three," she corrected.

Tiamat gave a small, wry smile.

"Depends on how close you are."

Ouroboros rolled her eyes slightly.

But didn’t retort.

And that—

Was noticed.

Strax watched everything in silence, leaning slightly against the wall, his arms relaxed as his gaze wandered between the three, absorbing the dynamics, the small changes, the details that might have gone unnoticed before.

The atmosphere, which could easily have been heavy after what happened—

It wasn’t.

Not completely.

There was still tension.

There were still questions.

But there was also something more.

Something lighter.

More aligned.

More... alive.

Ouroboros sat slowly on the bed, testing the weight, the support, as if checking if it would truly sustain not only her body, but the rest she clearly needed.

She let out a small sigh.

And, for the first time since everything happened—

It felt... comfortable.