Muchen gave the final twist of the padlock, his gloved hand steady as the metal clicked firmly into place. He took a step back from the door of the makeshift quarantine house, the soft clink of the lock echoing across the empty yard. It was a sharp, definitive sound—like the closing of a book, or the last tick of a clock before silence.
He stood there for a brief second longer than necessary, looking at the sealed door. A gentle breeze stirred the hem of his coat, lifting it slightly as he exhaled through his nose and turned away.
"It's done," he said simply.
The words carried no ceremony, no comfort, just quiet finality.
A few feet behind him, Jai stood frozen. He hadn't moved since they started sealing the quarantine door. His arms were wrapped tightly around his midsection, as if trying to hold himself together.
His shoulders were drawn in, tense, and his brows were furrowed in deep concentration or worry—it was hard to tell which. His mouth was a flat line, lips pale.
