Anger sat heavy in Noel's chest, hot and sharp, pressing against something colder beneath it. Disappointment. The kind that didn't explode, that didn't scream, just weighed down every breath. Roberto stood there like he always had, familiar in posture, familiar in presence, and that familiarity made it worse.
Because this wasn't a stranger.
This was his best friend.
Someone who had bled beside him. Fought beside him. Laughed with him when things were supposed to be impossible. And now that same person was calmly explaining how he planned to end the world—or save it—using Noel's body as the key.
Noel's fingers tightened around Revenant Fang until the grip bit into his palm.
'If I attack now… I die.'
There was no uncertainty in the thought. No room for bravado. He'd already seen it. Felt it. Death had been six seconds away, clean and final, stopped only by an item that was now useless weight in his pocket.
Ashen Sigil was on cooldown.
Thirty days.
