Adam had taken a few steps away, but something made him stop. He slowly turned back toward Neil, his pale eye fixed directly on his face.
A moment of heavy silence passed, then Adam raised his hand slightly, as if steadying the air between them, and his voice came out low, devoid of emotion:
— "You know, Neil… the day will come… I will kill you."
Krista gasped, placing her hand over her mouth as she stared at them in shock, but Adam didn't spare her a glance.
— "...And it won't be an ordinary killing. I'll kill you in the most horrific way your mind can imagine."
His voice dropped even further, nearly a whisper, yet still clear in the still courtyard:
— "I'm not saying this out of anger… or hatred. But because it's the only thing… that feels fitting for what's left of me."
No sign of emotion appeared on his face, only an empty gaze that contradicted the horror of what he said.
Then he turned without another word and continued walking away with slow steps, as if that conversation had never happened.
Neil remained seated, staring at the void before him, while Krista looked at him, her chest tight with shock.
Neither of them found anything to say.
Neil stayed still for a moment, watching Adam's back as he walked away, then exhaled slowly and wiped the dried blood on his forehead with an absent gesture.
He muttered quietly, as if speaking more to himself than to Krista:
— "It's hard… for someone like him to kill me."
He paused, a strange half-smile forming on his lips—one that resembled no real happiness:
— "He doesn't even have anything like killing inside him… and yet he said it. Strange."
Krista felt her heart tighten with tension. She couldn't bear for the heavy atmosphere to continue, so she took a small step forward and said quickly, trying to change the subject:
— "Neil… by the way… I heard you came back from the raid… Will you tell us how you survived? I mean… you fought an A-rank beast, didn't you?"
She silently wished for the strange conversation to end, for Neil to go back to how he used to be, and for her to forget Adam's words that she couldn't understand.
Neil noticed the tension in Krista's features, her rushed attempt to change the topic, and her scattered glances… as if she were standing on the edge of something she didn't want to admit.
He raised an eyebrow with a half-playful smile, his tone light but with a hint of seriousness:
— "Hmm… Are you being social now?"
Krista froze for a moment. She hadn't expected him to notice. Worse, she hadn't expected him to say it out loud.
She replied quickly, her face completely flushed:
— "What? No… no, I was just trying to… I mean… the atmosphere was tense… Adam was acting strange, and I just… just wanted to change the subject."
Neil didn't respond right away. He simply kept staring at her with a light, scrutinizing gaze, as if reading something unwritten.
Then he looked away toward the sky and said:
— "It's okay, Krista. No one blames you. Some people escape through silence, others through words… and you? Maybe you're trying to rescue."
Krista wasn't sure whether what he said was praise, a hint at her weakness, or something else entirely. But what she was certain of… was that he noticed everything.
Krista stayed silent for a moment, trying to gather her courage. Neil's words were striking something deep within her… that old feeling of always being the least brave, the least remarkable.
She took a deep breath, then lifted her eyes to him—and her gaze was not quite the same as before—not entirely hesitant this time.
She said with a voice that trembled, but was sincere:
— "Neil… I… I want to become strong."
Neil gave her a sideways glance, one eyebrow slightly raised, as if he hadn't expected her to say it outright.
She continued, biting her lip to stop it from quivering:
— "Ever since I was little… I wished I could be like them… stronger than fear, able to protect something… or even just myself."
Her cheeks flushed deeply, and she lowered her gaze to the ground:
— "And I… I think… you're strong enough to teach me. So… will… will you train me?"
For a moment, a heavy silence hung between them. Then she noticed—some awe in his eyes, and even a small smile, though she wasn't sure if it was gentle mockery or sincere appreciation.
Neil finally said in a neutral tone, but less cold than she expected:
— "You know I don't usually train people."
She lifted her gaze quickly, her eyes shining with hope, ready to plead if needed.
But he continued:
— "But… it's fine. I'll train you if you're serious. Strength isn't something given… it's something taken."
Krista felt her heart race with impossible speed. She wasn't sure if it was fear… or joy… or a third thing called admiration.
She didn't find the words at first. They were stuck in her throat like a lump of tension and disbelief.
Neil said it simply, as if the matter didn't concern him much:
— "Once I've fully recovered… I'll train you myself."
Just a short sentence, yet it hit her heart with force.
Her eyes widened gradually, and warmth rose to her face until it touched her ears. She tried to avert her eyes from him, but they refused to turn away.
Did he really say yes…?
Her pulse quickened, pounding in her chest. She turned slightly to hide her embarrassment and placed her hand on her blushing cheek in a desperate attempt to control her expression.
She didn't quite know how to describe him in her head… he wasn't friendly, nor kind… but he was different from everyone else. His strange calm, his self-confidence, the way he said things as if nothing could shake him…
And suddenly she realized she didn't even know what made her so attached to this person in the first place.
But for the first time in a long time, she felt that something real was waiting for her. Something bigger than her constant shyness and her fear of not being good enough.
She looked up at him with honest shyness, and a light smile slipped out before she could stop it.
— "Thank you… Neil."
He didn't return the smile—just gave a slight nod, as if unaware that in that moment… her admiration for him multiplied.
Adam sat in a corner of the courtyard, far from Neil and Krista. His hands clasped, eyes fixed on an invisible point on the ground. He wasn't listening, but he wasn't absent either. It was as if he were watching from behind thick glass, uninterested yet recording everything.
Long moments of silence passed before he slowly raised his eyes. He looked at Neil with a face devoid of any warmth or hostility, just those calm voids that hid what he was thinking.
So… he's the center of attention now, even Krista looks at him that way…
He shook his head slightly, as if scolding himself for a fleeting thought. But his inner voice, sharper since Mary's death, wouldn't let him sink into numbness so easily:
"If I'm going to get Mila back… and if I'm going to make everyone who played a part in this pay… then he's part of the equation too. Neil… no matter how much he thinks he doesn't care, or that he means nothing to me… in the end, he'll be my enemy."
He clenched his hands until the veins in his wrists stood out.
"I don't care if he's stronger than me now… I don't care if he thinks I'm powerless. One day… I'll kill you. Not slowly, not mercifully… I'll make your death as ugly as I've become inside."
Then he breathed slowly, as if engraving this promise into his mind permanently.
"That's how the equation completes. Getting my sister back… ending the Masked One… and ending you too. Everything will go in order, step by step."
He lowered his head slightly. His lips twitched, almost smiling, but he held back. There was nothing worth smiling about.
When Krista suddenly raised her eyes toward him and their gazes met, she froze for a moment.
His look was calm, cold… but carried something deeply chilling: a complete certainty that he would carry out what he promised himself, no matter what it cost.
Then he looked away from her simply, as if her presence meant nothing to him.
And for a brief moment… he seemed to see the entire world as a single long equation. Everyone around him… just secondary variables that would sooner or later lead to his final result.
On his way back home, Adam walked with very slow steps, as if his body had become heavier than he could carry. He didn't look at the passersby, didn't feel the sun's heat above his head, not even noticing that he had forgotten to close his jacket.
He opened his house door quietly and closed it behind him without a sound. A heavy silence reigned, broken only by the sound of his footsteps as he walked directly to the living room. He sat there, on the same chair his mother used to sit in. He slowly reached out and touched the armrest, then lowered his hand, not even knowing why he had done it.
He felt something inside him disintegrating… something fragile that was still trying to cling to a semblance of balance.
Then suddenly… his chest trembled.
At first, his breathing rose and fell slowly. After a few moments, it turned into soft sobs, then into real crying—raw and unrestrained. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he pressed his hands to his face so hard that his fingers left red marks on his skin.
And yet… amid that breakdown, his lips parted in a strange smile. A wide smile, unrelated to joy or relief. A smile that seemed more like an involuntary spasm.
Then he laughed. A hoarse, short, almost mad laugh. He laughed like someone who no longer knew how to feel.
When more tears flowed, he raised his finger to wipe them… then stared at the clear wetness on his skin. He brought his finger close to his mouth, as if testing what feeling he had left, and slowly licked the drop of tear.
It tasted like worthless salty water… or so he thought.
He passed his hand over his face again. His voice came out in a whisper—a mix between crying and laughter:
— "Why… why is everything this meaningless?"
Then his whole body curled forward, as if he wanted to disappear inside himself.
In that moment, he didn't know whether he was laughing because he couldn't bear it anymore… or because he had started to enjoy watching himself fall apart.