They walked back through the lengthening corridor in silence, and it was Elias, finally, who broke it.
“You said, before we went in — that you choosing to bring me in that night in the Blank wasn’t an accident. What did you mean?”
Priya didn’t answer immediately.
When she did, her voice had none of its usual dry armor.
“I was already assigned to your Canon’s Shelf, same as Toby was, from the other direction. Errata surveillance, not Forger — we flag anomalous retention too, we just don’t harvest it, we try to understand it first. I got an alert the same night the Forgers did, three days before you crossed. I was already watching your Shelf when your Ink signature spiked.” She stopped walking.
“I was there when you died, Elias. Not in your apartment. Here, on the boundary. I felt your story try to end and then — not end. I was the closest Editor on file, so I was sent to retrieve whatever crossed over. That’s not fate. That’s a duty roster. But I want to be honest that it wasn’t the coincidence I let you assume it was.”
Elias absorbed that slowly.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“Because for the first four days, I genuinely believed it didn’t matter — you were a confused Tier Zero and I was your handler, full stop. It stopped being that simple the second Serah confirmed the Forgers had a two-year file on you and I realized my own assignment predated your death too.” She met his eyes, and for once there was nothing careful in it.
“I don’t like being someone’s mentor because a duty roster picked me. I’d rather have chosen it. For what it’s worth, five days in — I would choose it now, roster or not.”
Whatever Elias might have said back to that, he didn’t get the chance, because they turned the last corner into the common room to find Mira on her feet, tense, and Dorian standing very still near the doorway with an expression Elias hadn’t seen on him before — not anger, not rivalry. This chapter was copied from novelping.com without permission.
Fear.
“Where’s Toby?” Elias asked, already knowing from the room’s silence that the answer wasn’t going to be good.
“He left,” Mira said.
“About ten minutes after you two did. Didn’t say where. Didn’t say why. Just said—” She stopped, throat working.
“He said he had to go finish something he should have finished a long time ago, before it got finished for him.”
Dorian held out a folded scrap of paper, hand not quite steady.
“He left this. Addressed to you.” This story is hosted at g.com.
Elias unfolded it.
The handwriting wasn’t his own this time — it was hurried, uneven, clearly written fast by someone who hadn’t let themselves think too hard about what they were writing.
Serah won’t stop coming for you as long as I’m the reason she knows what you’re worth.
I know where her cell operates out of.
I’m the only one who does.
I’m not asking permission because I know what you’d all say.
I’ll come back.
I just need you to still trust me a little when I do.
— T.