The air feels heavier now, saturated with the scent of old stone and flickering incense. Shadows dance along the walls, cast by dim braziers that barely keep the darkness at bay. And there he sits—Capitano—on the cold, obsidian throne of the Lord of the Night. His helmet glimmers faintly, reflecting shards of pale light

I take a hesitant step forward, my boots echoing against the marble floor. My throat tightens, a lump forming that no breath can dislodge. He breathes still, shallow and slow, like the wind before a storm, but I know… I know he is no longer here.

"Capitano…" whisper, my voice breaking like fragile glass against the silence.

He doesn’t answer. Of course, he doesn’t. His soul has crossed into the Nocturne Realm. And yet, he remains here—a guardian statue carved from flesh and sacrifice.

I drop to my knees before him, my hands trembling as they reach out but stop short of touching him. What could I possibly say? How could I ever thank him? Because of him, Natlan knows peace once more. The skies are clear, the rivers run free, and the people… they laugh again.

But here I am, kneeling before the price of that peace.

"You weren’t supposed to do this," I murmur, my tears slipping free, hot against my cheeks. "It my fate... You were supposed to stay."

The silence answers me, eternal and unyielding.

I want to scream. I want to rage at the place, at the throne, at whatever cruel fate decided that Capitano would bear this burden alone. But at least he is in peace now…after all his suffering…

*"I’ll keep it safe," I vow through the sobs, my voice muffled. "Everything you fought for… everything you sacrificed… I’ll make sure it wasn’t in vain."

Somewhere, far beyond the veil of this world, I hope he hears me. I hope he knows that his legacy isn’t just carved into stone or etched into memory—it lives in me. And though the night may claim him forever, I will carry his light until my final breath.