The torchlight in the corridor flickered as a wind with no source drifted through the stones. Cob stepped from the shadow as if he had been part of it, his pale robes trailing like drifting smoke. His smile was thin, carved with false warmth, and his eyes glowed with a hunger he did not bother to hide.

“Ah… there you are,” he said softly, each word floating like a silk thread. “The one who never withers. The one time refuses to touch.”

His hand hovered near his lips, trembling with delight or fear or both. The air around him quivered. It always did when he was excited.

“I have walked many roads trying to escape the ruin of age, but you… you carry the answer without effort.” Cob took one slow step closer, his voice dropping to a reverent whisper. “How beautiful. How cruel. Eternal youth wearing a mortal shape.”

“Tell me, child of unending dawn,” he murmured, “did you come here by fate… or were you sent to taunt me?”

The shadows curled behind him like obedient servants as he waited, eyes fixed on yours with an intensity that felt like cold fingers brushing the skin.