Safira giggled softly and somewhat sadly.

"He had that same look. Like he was carrying the weight of the sky on his shoulders and was trying to pretend that it was nothing more than a light breeze."

Huda sighed from behind them, barely dragging herself forward through the snow.

"Are... you... talking about... big brother?"

That seemed to wake her up a little.

"Him? Are you sure that you aren’t hallucinating now? The only thing similar between them is the golden eyes, and even that is weak. Big brother is too handsome compared to him."

Though her aggressive personality remained, it had lost its bite, sounding more like dismissive muttering.

"Still... you’re not too bad."

The petite lady had obviously gone through the wringer.

Her pink dress was stained, while her crimson hair hung in tangled knots around her pale face.

She was too tired to fix it.

"I don’t trust you. I think Safira is wrong for doing so. But you have gotten us this far, so I believe that you at least want to get out as badly as we do. So honestly, I don’t care even if you’re a Demon."

She sighed once more, heavy with exhaustion.

"I... I just want to get back. I miss my family already."

Safira nodded in agreement, her ghostly smile fading into something more somber.

"Yes. I am worried they believe me dead. It has been so long. Or has it?"

She glanced at Malik, her green eyes searching his weathered face.

"How about you, Stranger? Who is waiting for you to come home?"

Malik took an unusual pause.

He looked down at the world for a while, and when he finally spoke, his voice was low:

"...I would not know."

He meant that literally.

Malik did not know who was waiting for him.

His wife, his daughter, his supposed siblings, his disciple, and his supporters.

While he had quickly grown to love them, no doubt thanks to locked memories, they were essentially strangers to him.

He barely knew them at all.

Just like Huda and Safira, bound to him by titles and memories that were not yet his.

The two women did not press further, and the group continued on in silence.

Malik saw no reason to continue the conversation, its purpose achieved.

But, of course, it was far from enough.

A few hours—or perhaps days—later, Huda collapsed against the trunk of a Tree of Life, her body sliding down the bark until she was lying in the snow.

Her breathing was shallow, and her pink eyes were glazed over with exhaustion, close to death.

"I have to sleep."

Her voice was barely a whisper.

"I can’t take another step. If the red wave comes and devours me, let it. I can’t do this anymore... I just can’t."

Malik looked at her, then at Safira, who was swaying on her feet nearby, her ginger hair plastered to her forehead with sweat.

Even his own mind, bolstered by his Angel Soul and his unique resistance to Corruption, was near the breaking point.

The drain was relentless, and no amount of Will, Sultan or not, could fully counteract it.

"Fine, let us rest."

Malik decided while scanning the area for any sign of danger.

"We can take turns keeping watch."

With that, the two ladies huddled under the canopy of the tree, the rough bark pressing against their backs.

The pale light seemed to dim slightly, as if the land itself were settling in for a long wait.

Malik volunteered for the first watch, positioning himself at the edge of the group with his eyes facing outward.

But exhaustion was a traitorous thing.

Despite his best efforts and the constant gnawing of the Corruption at the edges of his Soul, his eyelids grew heavy.

He fought it.

Oh, he fought it.

Blinking rapidly and pinching his own arm, but the weight was too much.

His head nodded forward, and his consciousness slipped into a dark, dreamless Void.

"AAGGHHHH!"

A bloodcurdling scream shattered the Void, ripping Malik violently awake.

He scrambled to his feet, his heart hammering against his ribs, already fearing the worst.

His golden eyes darted around frantically, searching for the cause of the scream, and in the pale light of the wasteland, he saw it.

A humanoid shadow rapidly receding into the snowy hills, looking much like a Demon.

Then, Malik’s gaze fell to the other side of the tree, to the spot where Safira had been sleeping.

She was on the ground now, curled on her side, her hands clutching her torso.

Blood was rapidly staining the white snow beneath her, spreading outward in a grotesque halo that looked violently out of place against the pale background.

Beneath the torn fabric of her white dress, Malik could see a deep gash in her side.

"...Teacher."

Safira’s eyes fluttered open for just a moment.

She looked at the approaching Malik, and there was something in her gaze.

Recognition, maybe, or gratitude, or simply the desperate hope of a dying woman.

Malik held that moment for the longest time, only to then watch as her eyes rolled back, her mind losing consciousness.

"No, no, no!"

He dropped to his knees, ignoring the blood soaking into his clothes, and pulled her upper body into a desperate embrace, pressing his hands against the wound to try and stem the flow.

"No, Safira, look at me!"

This couldn’t be happening.

"Wake up! You cannot die on me."

He wasn’t going to lose anyone again!

"I haven’t even told you that I am—"

"Mhhhh. What is with the screaming?"

Huda groaned from beside him, stretching her arms above her head as she forced her heavy eyelids open.

She blinked a few times, trying to clear the sleep from her vision and make sense of the chaos around her.

Her pink eyes had fallen on the scene.

She saw Safira, bleeding out on the snow, and Malik, his hands covered in her family’s blood, hovering over her with glowing golden eyes.