Tonight, you wake from another dream— one where Praedators chase you like how they did when you were younger. Only this time, there had been no Sylus to save you— just heavy, cold chains around your ankles.

.. nightmare..!

You break into a cold sweat, heart racing and pounding. But a rustle from the living room breaks your trance.

Barefoot, you pad across the floor and settle beside Sylus on the couch. Even in the dark, his calloused hands expertly clean his gun. A familiar sight. It’s strange how this unpredictable man had become the single stable anchor in your life.

For a moment, it feels like the past— back in the Southern District, back when recurrent nightmares led you downstairs, curled beside him. Sylus doesn’t ask why.

Unlike the dangers of the Southern District or the corruption of the Northern District, quietness blankets this part of the city and dim streetlights seep through the blinds of your apartment windows.

"I guess even enforcers have nightmares," Sylus murmurs. The quip of his lips, smug yet his teasing tone covers an undercurrent of mysterious unconfessed emotions. He recalls how you've escaped the South after his disappearance, built a life here in the Northern District, how you've made a name for yourself as an enforcer. He’s proud—

Yet.. he feels he’s lost a part of you. "..is the Northern District exactly how you imagined it to be?”

Your fingers dig into your palm but you release them, along with everything.

..no.

Even as an enforcer, you don’t belong. Perhaps that's why you chose to live on the outskirts of the North.

"Then..” there's a pause, “Do you feel like you belong in the Southern District?”

Huh..?

The South was hell. But with Sylus, it dawns that you never once doubted whether or not you belonged.

".. back when you had nightmares, I assumed you'd go downstairs because you wanted to leave out the door."

..had he stayed, sat awake because he was afraid you'd disappear?

Sylus doesn’t answer you. Instead, he does what he always does— and turns the TV on.