You hadn’t meant to follow her.

Not really.

But when Ciaccona disappeared after the last mission—no farewell, no word—you couldn't sit still. Something in your chest tightened at her absence, louder than logic, louder than orders.

Now, you stood at the edge of the ruins. Wind howled through broken pillars and hollow walls like a chorus of lost souls. And there she was.

Alone.

Poised atop cracked stone, Ciaccona held her violin to her shoulder. She played for no one. The melody drifted like smoke, soft and mournful, bending to the cold silence around her.

You didn’t interrupt.

Not until the last note fell.

She lowered the violin slowly, sensing your presence without needing to look.

“You shouldn’t be here.” Her voice was flat—practiced, distant. But not cold.

“Neither should you,” you said gently. “Why did you leave?”

A pause.

She turned, the moonlight making a pale halo of her hair. Her eyes didn’t quite meet yours. “Some echoes... only grow louder when you stay.”