The villagers noticed.
Not all at once—but slowly.
A coin returned here.
A pouch delivered there.
Debts erased one by one.
With interest.
With extra neps added on top.
Some noticed their names scratched off lists they thought would never shrink.
Others opened their doors to find money left quietly on the floor.
Whispers spread again.
"He's acting."
"He fooled us."
"He was never mad."
They hated that most of all.
But no one could prove it.
Scotch paid everyone back.
Every single debt.
And when the last name was crossed off, he bowed politely and added more neps (currency) than he owed.
"Compensation," he said.
No one thanked him.
They watched him with narrowed eyes now.
Not angry.
Not pitiful.
Uncomfortable.
Because it was easier to hate a fool than face a good man they had crushed.
PRESENT — UNDERGROUND ROOM
The bunker was silent when Scotch finished.
Volow hadn't moved in a while.
Marga's arms were crossed—but her hands were tight, fingers digging into her sleeves.
"…So that's why," Marga said quietly.
Volow looked at Scotch differently now.
Not curiosity.
Respect.
A lot of it.
"You didn't run," Volow said. "You didn't fight back. You didn't even explain yourself."
Scotch smiled lightly. "Explaining never helped."
Volow nodded once.
Slow.
Heavy.
"We'll leave in the morning," Marga said.
Scotch's smile faded.
"You shouldn't," he said.
They both looked at him.
"The Mantle will kill you before its people do," Scotch continued calmly.
"The gravity is heavier. Breathing feels wrong.
Heat presses into your bones. Your body will fight itself."
Volow didn't interrupt.
"And that's before you meet them," Scotch said.
"The ruler. His guards. His hands. His army.
They are not soldiers like the ones you fought.
They are Veil users shaped by that world."
He looked directly at Volow.
"They will kill you."
Volow swallowed.
He was afraid.
But not enough to turn back.
"I will still go," he said.
Scotch studied him.
Then nodded.
"…I thought you'd say that."
It was another morning in Skytop.
They left at first light.
Suki walked close to Volow, her tail brushing his leg. She glanced back more than once.
At the edge of the forest, Volow stopped.
He turned.
Scotch stood near the bunker entrance, hands folded behind his back.
"Thank you," Volow said.
"For everything. For the truth. For the path."
Scotch smiled. "Come back alive. That's enough."
"I will," Volow said. "I promise. I'll come back and meet you again."
Scotch nodded.
He watched until they disappeared into the trees.
Only then did he exhale.
For the first time in a long while—
he felt good.
Like something inside him had finally settled.
Volow walked in silence.
Suki stayed close.
After a while, she nudged his hand with her nose.
"You felt it too," Volow said quietly.
Suki nodded.
Volow reached down and scratched behind her ear.
"Stay with me," he said.
She huffed softly. "Always."
It was night time now.
Scotch stood in his bunker, placing books back on the shelves.
Carefully.
One by one.
When he climbed the steps and opened the door—
They were waiting.
Masked men.
Seated calmly.
Blocking the path.
Scotch didn't freeze.
He didn't run.
He stepped out and closed the door behind him.
"So," he said gently. "You came tonight."
No answer.
He nodded to himself.
"I see."
He looked at the stars once.
Then back at them.
"You know," he said, "for a long time, I didn't understand why I was still alive."
The men didn't move.
"I thought I was just stubborn. Or unlucky."
He smiled faintly.
"But now I know."
He imagined Volow's face.
The way he listened.
The way he chose to walk forward anyway.
"I wasn't here to win," Scotch said.
"I was here to point."
He lifted his head.
"The world won't hurt forever. Not anymore."
A masked man stepped forward.
Scotch didn't step back.
"When people finally stand up," he said, voice steady,
"they won't remember me as a madman."
He closed his eyes.
"They'll remember that someone showed the way."
The beating ended without ceremony.
Hands let go of him.
Boots stepped back.
No final words.
Scotch collapsed onto the ground, his body landing wrong, breath tearing out of his chest.
Blood spilled from his mouth and darkened the dirt beneath his face.
The masked men didn't look at him again.
They turned away.
Only then did fire appear.
A torch hit the hut's wall.
Another followed.
Flames caught fast.
The men walked off into the dark as if their work was already finished.
The next moment—
Silence.
Scotch lay still on the ground, face turned to the side. Blood slowly crept from the corner of his lips. His eyes were half open.
And he was smiling.
Just a little.
Footsteps echoed far away. Then voices.
Shouting.
Villagers ran past him, panic rising as the fire climbed higher.
"Water—get water!"
"The hut—don't let it spread!"
Buckets slammed. People screamed orders.
Shadows rushed back and forth as flames cracked and roared behind him.
None of it reached him anymore.
His breathing was faint. Each inhale weaker than the last.
The world began to blur.
And then—
Pine came in Scotch's fading memories.
Not as he was now, but as he had been that day. Standing close. Calm. Solid.
A hand rested on Scotch's shoulder.
Firm.
Real.
"The next time we meet," Pine said, voice clear and steady,
"we'll be old enough to talk about life."
Scotch smiled.
A single tear slipped from his eye, tracing a slow line into the dirt.
The noise of the villagers faded.
The fire became distant.
His chest rose once more.
Then didn't.
The forest was quiet.
Volow sat near the fire, back against a wide tree trunk. The flames were low, careful—just enough to keep the cold away.
Marga sat across from him, sharpening a blade slowly. Suki lay curled beside Volow, tail flicking lazily, eyes half closed.
Above them, the sky was clear.
Stars stretched endlessly, sharp and distant.
Volow stared at them for a long time without speaking.
The fire popped softly.
"I liked him," Volow said at last.
Marga didn't look up. She didn't need to.
"He was strange," Volow continued, voice calm. "But… good. The kind you don't see much."
Suki lifted her head and glanced at him.
Volow scratched behind her ear without thinking.
"I hope we meet him again someday," he said, eyes still on the sky. "When this is all over."
Marga paused her sharpening.
"…Yeah," she said quietly. "Me too."
The fire cracked again.
Suki settled closer to Volow, pressing her side against his leg. He rested a hand on her back, steady, grounding himself.
None of them knew why the night suddenly felt heavier.
Above them, the stars didn't change.
Far away, unseen and unheard, something gentle had already ended.
They killed him for reading what was never meant to be read—the
They killed Scotch because he carried the printed words taken from the cave's Giant Tree that Volow brought for him—knowledge that was never meant to leave the dark.