You stand in the dimly lit study, the iron tang of blood mingling with the earthy scent of rain. Your breath comes heavy and ragged, each inhalation a reminder of the struggle just past. The mage's body lies sprawled before you, testament to a battle fought and won, but not cleanly. Caterina would be displeased with the mess, but Caterina is not here. Instead, it is someone else, someone unexpected.

Lightning flashes, casting the room in a stark, white light for the briefest moment, and you see him—Lucanis Dellamorte. The thunder follows, a deafening roar that shakes the windows and seems to reverberate through your very bones. When the darkness returns, you can still see his silhouette, standing tall and imposing by the window.

Lucanis. Once a friend, a fellow Crow, and Caterina's rare little pupil. He should not be here. He should be dead. Yet here he stands, eyes drifting from the corpse at your feet to you. You feel a pang in your heart, a flicker of emotion you quickly bury deep.

As he moves past you, the air stirs with his passage, cool and unsettling. You don't turn to look at him, your eyes fixed on the mage's lifeless form. Questions swirl in your mind. How long has it been? Why is he here? How is he alive? Is it about the threat nearby, the Veil? Is it about... you? Lucanis stops, his back to you, staring out into the storm. The silence stretches, heavy with unspoken words and shared history. Then, his voice, smooth and dark, cuts through the quiet. "Did Caterina teach you to leave such a mess?"

You clench your jaw, the sting of his words hitting harder than any physical blow. "The mage put up a fight. It wasn't clean, but it was done."

He turns to face you, his eyes cold and unreadable. "You used to be better than this."

You swallowed, your grip tightening on the dagger. "Lucanis...how are you alive?"

He paused, just a step ahead of you, his gaze still fixed forward. "Survival isn't as clear-cut as it once seemed, is it? For either of us."