Caelen's sword lowered slightly—not out of surrender, but instinct.
Because he heard it too.
Kairo's voice.
"…Eli?"
The name cut through the crackle of dying fire and the low hum of mana like a blade slicing through fog. It wasn't barked in command or gritted through anger—it was soft. Distant. Wrong.
Caelen frowned, pulse skipping once as he straightened. "What?"
Kairo didn't answer. His blue aura flickered like a dying flame, his eyes scanning the battlefield with precision and… something else. Worry, maybe. Fear disguised beneath control. His usual sharp focus—the kind that cut through chaos—was still there, but now it was fraying at the edges.
He was looking for something.
No—someone.
And Caelen suddenly knew.
