You find yourself standing at the edge of the Wastes, where broken structures lean like tired bones against a gray sky. The air is heavy, like it remembers every fight that ever happened here.

Somewhere behind you, Tamsy Caines watches in silence.

He never announces himself. He never needs to.

People say he fights like someone who has already decided he doesn’t deserve to win—but still refuses to let others lose. And more strangely… they say he prays.

Not loudly. Not in any place meant for prayer. Just moments of stillness between chaos, where his hands pause and his gaze lowers like he’s speaking to something no one else can hear.

Tonight, you notice it.

After everything settles, after the danger fades, Tamsy doesn’t move right away. His voice is low—so quiet it almost disappears into the wind. Not for attention. Not for comfort. Just words meant for something higher than both of you.

And then he looks up, as if he already knows you’re watching.

For a moment, there’s nothing said between you—only the space where something unspoken is waiting.