Caesar had been waiting.
The morning had stretched too long.
The medical corridor was never truly silent — footsteps passed, carts rolled, voices murmured beyond doors — but no one had come to him.
No one had updated him.
That irritated him more than pain ever could.
When the nurse entered to check his monitors, he watched her closely.
"Is he awake?" Caesar asked calmly.
The nurse hesitated only a fraction of a second.
"No, sir," she replied. "He's still unconscious."
Caesar's eyes sharpened.
"You're lying."
The nurse stiffened.
"I— no, sir."
"I heard the staff," he said, his voice rising slightly. "I heard them say his fever broke. I heard them say he was conscious."
The nurse faltered.
Caesar's voice grew louder, anger slipping through the calm mask.
"Do not insult me by pretending I am deaf."
"I— I'll go ask if he can receive visitors," she said quickly, startled.
"You will do that," Caesar snapped.
She left immediately.
The door shut.
Caesar stared at the ceiling.
Awake.
So they were keeping him from Izana.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
The nurse moved quickly down the corridor.
She found Elias standing near Izana's bed, speaking quietly with Leah and Dante. Izana was propped up slightly now, pale but alert. Leah sat close, her hand resting in his.
They were mid-conversation when the nurse approached.
"Mr. Elias?" she said quietly.
Elias turned.
"Yes?"
"Mr. Caesar is requesting to see Mr. Izana."
The room shifted.
Leah's posture stiffened instantly.
Dante's expression darkened.
Elias's jaw tightened, but his voice remained level. "Did he say anything else?"
"He… knew Mr. Izana was awake," the nurse admitted. "He accused me of lying."
Elias exhaled slowly through his nose.
Of course he did.
Behind him, Leah noticed the change immediately.
"What is it?" she asked.
Dante stepped closer too. "What happened?"
Elias glanced at Izana — then back at them.
"Come here," he said quietly.
Leah hesitated for half a second before standing. Dante joined them. They stepped a short distance away from the bed.
Izana watched them carefully.
He didn't like it.
The way their voices lowered.
The way their backs half-turned toward him.
He shifted slightly, discomfort flickering across his face — not from his wound.
From exclusion.
"What's going on?" he asked.
No one answered immediately.
Leah looked back at him, conflicted.
Dante crossed his arms. "He doesn't need this right now."
"He deserves to know," Elias replied quietly.
Izana's hand moved slightly on the sheets.
He raised it just a little — enough to draw their attention.
"I'm still here," he said calmly.
The slight edge in his tone made Leah turn immediately.
She walked back to his side without hesitation and sat down again, taking his hand.
His fingers curled around hers.
"What is it?" he asked, searching her face.
She looked up at Elias.
"Should we tell him?"
Elias held Izana's gaze for a long moment.
Then he gave a slow nod.
"Yes," he said quietly. "He deserves to know."
Leah inhaled slowly.
Izana's expression shifted — not angry, not defensive.
Worried.
Concerned.
For them.
She hated that.
She tightened her grip on his hand.
"There's something we didn't tell you," she began.
He stilled.
Her hesitation didn't go unnoticed.
His thumb brushed lightly against her knuckles.
"Leah," he said gently. "Just say it."
She swallowed.
"Your father woke up," she said quietly. "Two months ago."
The words settled heavily into the room.
Izana didn't react immediately.
His face didn't change.
But something behind his eyes flickered.
Fragments.
A voice.
Cold hands.
Sharp words.
Pain he couldn't fully piece together.
His memories were fractured — like broken glass scattered across the floor. He could see shapes, feel impressions… but not the full picture.
He remembered pressure.
Control.
Expectations.
But not everything.
"He's… awake?" Izana asked quietly.
"Yes."
Silence.
"And he wants to see you," Leah added carefully.
Izana looked down at their joined hands.
His breathing remained steady.
Too steady.
Dante stepped forward. "You don't have to."
Leah nodded quickly. "You don't owe him anything. Not after—."
She stopped herself.
Not after what?
Izana looked up at her.
After what?
He searched his mind.
There were shadows there.
But nothing solid.
"He's still in the hospital room?" Izana asked.
"Yes," Elias answered.
"And he asked for me?"
"Yes."
Izana leaned back slightly against the pillows.
The movement pulled faintly at his stitches, but he didn't react.
His mind was turning.
If Caesar had woken two months ago…
Why hadn't he known?
Why hadn't anyone told him?
Because he wasn't here.
Because he was gone.
Because he almost died breaking the curse.
He looked at Leah again.
"You don't have to do this," she repeated softly. "Not right now. Not ever."
Her eyes were pleading now — not with him.
With fate.
He could see it.
She was afraid.
Not of Caesar.
Of losing him again.
He lifted their joined hands slightly.
"I don't remember everything," he admitted quietly.
Elias and Dante exchanged a look.
"I remember enough," Izana continued. "But not all of it."
That was true.
The curse had blurred things.
Twisted memories.
Some things felt distant. Muffled.
But one thing was clear.
Avoiding Caesar wouldn't make him disappear.
"If he wants to see me," Izana said calmly, "I'll go."
Leah's grip tightened instantly.
"Izana—."
"I need to see him."
His voice wasn't angry.
It wasn't reactive.
It was steady.
Measured.
Different.
Elias studied him carefully.
"You're not fully recovered."
"I don't need to be," Izana replied.
Dante frowned. "You just survived an infection."
"I survived worse."
That wasn't bravado.
It was fact.
Leah searched his face one more time.
"Are you sure?" she asked quietly.
He looked at her — really looked at her.
And something softened.
"I'm not going alone," he said.
Her shoulders relaxed slightly.
"I'll be there," she said immediately.
"So will I," Dante added.
Elias nodded once. "We control the setting."
Izana gave a faint nod.
But deep down—
He felt something unfamiliar.
Not fear.
Not rage.
Something else.
A quiet curiosity.
He didn't know yet that the power dynamic had already shifted.
And down the corridor—
Caesar was waiting.