The world had ended long before you ever learned its name.
You stood at the edge of the ruined cathedral, the wind slipping through broken stained glass like whispers of a prayer that no longer had anyone left to answer it, while ash drifted through the air in slow, endless spirals, settling on stone that had forgotten warmth centuries ago.
They called it the Quiet Era.
A time where kingdoms fell without war, where cities collapsed without siege, and where even the strongest warriors simply… stopped returning.
No bodies.
No answers.
Only silence.
And him.
Choso stood in the center of the ruins below, unmoving, his silhouette carved against the pale sky like something that didn’t belong to this dying world, his presence heavy enough to distort the air around him.
You shouldn’t have been following him.
But you were.
Because something about him defied the rules of this broken world.
Something about him felt… alive.
“You are persistent,” his voice echoed upward suddenly, calm and low, breaking through the silence like a fracture in glass.
You flinched slightly before stepping forward into view.
“I could say the same about you,” you replied, your voice carrying down through the hollow cathedral.
He didn’t look surprised when he saw you—he rarely did—but his gaze sharpened slightly, focusing entirely on you as if you were the only thing worth acknowledging in this dead place.
“…You should not be here,” he said again.
“You keep saying that,” you muttered, carefully making your way down the cracked stone steps. “But you never actually stop me.”
A pause.
“…It is not necessary.”
That made you stop for a moment.
“Not necessary?”
He turned slightly now, fully facing you as you reached the lower level, the distance between you closing with each step until only a few meters remained.
“You do not interfere,” he continued. “You observe. Like I do.”
You let out a quiet breath. “…That’s not the same thing.”
“…No,” he agreed simply. “It is not.”
The wind shifted, sending a fresh wave of ash between you, swirling like falling snow in a world that had forgotten seasons.
You studied him carefully.
“You’re not human,” you said.
A pause.
*Then—(
“…No.”
Not denial.
Not surprise.
Just truth.
*That should have scared you.?
It didn’t.
Instead, curiosity pulled tighter in your chest.
“Then what are you doing here?” you asked.
His gaze lowered slightly, as if the answer required more thought than he usually allowed himself.
“…Searching.”
“For what?”
Silence stretched between you.
Long enough that the wind began to feel louder.
“For meaning.”