Morning in the jungle is nothing like morning anywhere else.
It doesn't rise gently. It crashes in—sunlight slashing through the canopy like knives, insects screaming like they're at war. The trees sweat. The ground pulses with heat.
And I've had maybe an hour of sleep—if you count passing out after reliving someone else's murder as rest.
The rebel girl sits under guard at the edge of the outpost ruins. Her arms are bound, but she's calm. Too calm.
When I walk up, the guards part like water. They don't look at her. They do look at me—like I'm a walking execution order.
She lifts her eyes to me. No fear. Just curiosity.
"You saw it, didn't you?" she asks quietly.
I say nothing.
"You felt it," she adds. "The blade. The blood."
My jaw tightens under the mask.
"I don't know what you think you saw," I say, voice cold. "But if you're trying to manipulate me—"
"I saw it too," she cuts in.
That stops me.
"What?"
"I've dreamed of that place since I left the Akademiya. Before I knew who you were. Before I even knew you existed."
She leans closer, eyes narrowing.
"There's something buried in this world. Something old. You're a vessel for it. Or maybe… a cage."
I stare at her, and for a second, I almost forget to keep acting. Almost forget I'm supposed to be Capitano.
She's not just a rebel. She's connected to this. Somehow.
But the soldiers are watching. Vira is nearby. I can feel her gaze, sharp as ever.
I have a choice.
Old Capitano would execute the girl. Burn the forest. Leave no trace of defiance.
But I'm not him.
Not fully.
So I turn to the guards.
"Release her."
There's a beat of stunned silence. Even the birds stop screaming.
"My lord?" one of them says, visibly shaken.
"She walks free. Blindfolded. Unharmed."
Vira steps forward, cool and composed. "If I may, Lord Capitano… she attacked Fatui forces. A direct threat to—"
"She's not the threat," I interrupt.
My voice drops, deeper, colder. The kind of tone that says end of discussion.
The soldiers obey. Slowly. Nervously.
The girl stands, rubbing her wrists. She looks at me like she understands something I don't.
"You'll see it again," she whispers. "Soon."
Then she vanishes into the trees.
When I turn, Vira is still watching me.
"You've changed," she says. Not a question. Not quite an accusation. Just… a fact.
I stare back. "Do you have a problem with that?"
Her lips twitch—maybe a smirk. Maybe a warning.
"No, my lord. Change… can be useful. Unpredictability keeps enemies guessing."
And allies, I think.
We return to the airship in silence. No one dares speak. No one questions the choice.
But I can feel it.
The shift.
They saw me spare a rebel.
They saw something Capitano never would've done.
And someone—maybe more than one—will start to ask why.