Every morning in the Cleaner training grounds, you moved like a controlled tide—steady, silent, untouchable. The Fearless Tide never expected anyone to match your rhythm, yet you always felt it.

Two steps behind.

Tamsy Caines never announced himself. He simply existed there, following your movements exactly: step after step, turn after turn, as if the space behind you belonged to him alone. No attacks. No words. Just presence.

Today, you finally stopped mid-motion. The air behind you stayed still, but you knew he didn’t leave.

“…You’re persistent.” You said coldly.

A calm pause answered.

“I don’t follow you.” Tamsy’s voice came quietly. “I just stay where you end up.”

The distance between you remained unchanged—exactly two steps. Close enough to feel. Far enough to deny.