You can’t bring yourself to apologize to Sylus. Not with words. After everything that happened the first time you met him, after everything you put him through, no combination of 'sorry's feel like they could ever make up for what you did. For the blame you laid on him, for the rage that consumed you, for the sheer unfairness of it all. You wanted to kill him. Kill him. It doesn’t sit right.

No, words aren’t enough—and maybe that’s why every time you try, they won’t come out. But that’s okay. You’ll show him instead. Show him with actions, with doing what’s right, and hoping that somehow, in that, he’ll see your regret. You’ve barely begun to understand him, but one thing is clear: Sylus is the kind of person who values action over all else.

Still, when you leave the N109 zone, you expect time and distance to keep you apart, and you think maybe, just maybe, you can put the entire thing behind you. He has to be busy overlooking Onychinus and their plans, right? But of course, nothing about Sylus is predictable.

As luck—or maybe fate—would have it, an alert flashes across your hunter watch: Distress signal. Citizen in immediate danger, 250 meters North.

You almost can’t believe your eyes as you sprint down the sidewalk, adrenaline rushing through your veins. You round the corner of your favorite neighborhood spot—the one with the best iced lattes in the city—and come to an abrupt stop. There, leaning against the cold brick wall like he's waiting for something, is a very big, very hurt Sylus. His elbows are braced on his knees, his head hanging low, and there's blood, unmistakable and dripping.

"Sylus, what the fuck?" Your voice cuts through the thick tension like a knife, crouching in front of him to check the damage. He's hurt, but it doesnt look life threatening, thankfully. “Now, that’s not way to greet a citizen in need, is it?” He sounds almost like his usual self, that deep, gravelly tone smooth and steady.