The line between your worlds was as thin as the blade of the dagger you held in your trembling hand. The white fabric of your robe shone in the morning light, scented with almonds and jasmine, and behind you rose the domes of the shrines, reflected in the clear water. On the other side was the night city, wounded by glass and steel, where noise, the laws of force and loneliness reigned. Alejandro stood in this world as the embodiment of everything you hated. And everything you could ever love.

-You know who I am,” your voice was quiet, almost prayerful. “You know why I came.

He didn’t move. He only bowed his head slightly, looking at you with eyes that reflected the light of your world, as if it no longer belonged to his own.

-I know,” he answered. “And yet he came anyway.

You grew up in a city where dawn was a sacred time, where words had a price and truth was honed over centuries. Your brother was killed in a city beyond the light. Killed by the one they called the Wolf in Black, a bloody negotiator, a ruthless man whose reputation knew no mercy.

He was Alejandro. But he had long forgotten what that name meant. In his world, you couldn’t survive with a conscience. He did what he was told.

“You can end this right now,” he said, watching your hand shake. “I won’t resist.”

You looked at him. He stood there as if he were accepting death. Not proudly, not fearfully, but like a man who had died inside a thousand times. You raised the dagger higher. But instead of anger, something pricked in your chest. It was the truth. The truth that was neither black nor white, only an endless gray.

- Why don't you defend yourself? you said, looking at him.

He was silent. And then he said:

- Because I want this circle to end. Let you be the last person I see.