Nero sat slumped in the chair, head hanging low, tears falling freely onto the floor. Neither Dorne nor Anika spoke. They stayed close—silent, steady—giving him the space to feel whatever needed to surface.
They felt sympathy for him.
But for Eli, it was different.
From the other room, the boy stared at Nero through the narrow gap of the doorway. His eyes didn't carry the same concern as his mother's. There was no pity there—only fear. Raw and instinctive. As if he wasn't seeing a man at all, but something else. Something that terrified him to his core.
Without making a sound, Eli turned and ran to his room.
Minutes passed.
Nero finally wiped at his face, dragging his sleeve across his eyes. The tears stopped—but the feeling didn't. That weight. That hollow emptiness, lodged deep in his chest.
Dorne broke the silence gently.
"You okay now?"
Nero nodded faintly.
"Yeah… I'm fine."
Anika studied him for a long moment.
"You must've gone through something terrible," she said softly. "For just the feeling to break you like that…"
She glanced at Dorne. "Elias—take a walk with him. Some fresh air might help."
The name hit Nero like a sudden jolt.
He froze.
Both of them noticed instantly.
"What is it?" Dorne asked. "Why do you look like that?"
Nero turned slowly, eyes wide.
"I… I don't know." He shook his head. "It just felt familiar. Like I've heard it before. Like I knew someone with the name, Elias."
Anika leaned forward.
"Just the name? Try to focus. Anything else?"
Nero closed his eyes, repeating it silently.
Elias… Elias… Elias…
The harder he reached for it, the further it slipped away—like trying to grasp smoke.
He opened his eyes and exhaled.
"I tried. There's nothing. Just this feeling… that it mattered."
Anika nodded gently.
"That's alright. Don't push it. Forcing memories can do more harm than good. Let them return on their own."
Nero nodded back and pulled his shirt on.
"Come on," Dorne said. "Let's get some fresh air."
They stepped outside together, leaving the house behind in quiet.
Anika watched the doorway for a moment after they left.
Then she knelt and cleaned the floor, her movements slow, almost gentle.
The town was alive with motion. People worked, talked, carried on with their routines. Some glanced at Nero with lingering suspicion. Others watched openly. Children peeked out from behind their parents—only to retreat the moment he looked their way.
Nero muttered, "I don't think they want me here."
Dorne shrugged.
"Yeah. But don't let it get to you. Can you blame them? You're the guy who made a bunch of kids cry."
Nero stopped.
"So… you noticed that?"
Dorne stopped too and nodded once.
"Yeah. I did."
Nero scanned the faces around them.
"I swear, I didn't do anything. They touched my arm and then… they freaked out."
"I believe you," Dorne said, a small smile tugging at his lips. "But something scared them. The question is—what?"
Nero frowned.
"Don't look at me. I already told you—I don't know."
Dorne chuckled and started walking again.
"Relax. I'm just messing with you. Remember what Anika said—don't force it. Let things come back when they're ready."
Nero caught up, walking beside him as the town quietly watched them pass.
After a brief pause, Dorne asked, "You still carrying that tracker?"
Nero nodded. "Yeah. Why?"
"Let's head to Thom's place," Dorne said. "Maybe he can figure something out about it. Who knows—it might give us a clue."
Nero raised a brow. "Didn't you just tell me to take it slow?"
"Nope," Dorne replied smugly. "Anika said that. I just repeated it. Personally, I think we should rip those memories out by force."
Nero gave him a wary look. "I have a really bad feeling about that…"
Dorne grinned. "You worry too much. Nothing bad's gonna happen."
"Not so reassuring." Nero muttered as he followed Dorne down the path to Thom's house.
Thom was outside with his daughter, Lina. He was tall and dark-skinned, with a well-kept, functional build—strong without excess. There was a quiet steadiness in the way he stood, the kind that came from years of routine and responsibility rather than show. When Dorne called out, Thom looked up at once.
"Hey, Thom! You free?"
Thom glanced between Dorne and Nero, then leaned down and spoke softly to Lina. "Go play with the others for a bit, alright?"
She nodded and ran off without a word.
Thom straightened and walked over. "Yeah. I've got time. What's going on?"
"I need you to take a look at something," Dorne said. "Nero—show him."
Nero reached into his back pocket and pulled out the tracker, handing it over.
Thom studied the device, turning it over in his hand. "Hm. Definitely a tracker," he muttered. "Active, too. Where'd you get it?"
Nero opened his mouth, but Dorne cut in. "He doesn't know. Lost all his memories. This was the only thing he had on him when I found him."
Thom didn't look up. "Then why isn't he still at Anika's?"
"We just got back," Dorne said. "She ran a few tests. Nothing helped. He only managed to recall one name—Elias. Said he might've known someone by that name."
Thom raised an eyebrow. "Elias? That's your name. Maybe he's mixing faces and names."
Dorne turned to Nero. "Did you?"
Nero shook his head. "No."
"He didn't mess it up," Dorne said, turning back to Thom. "The memory hit him the moment Anika called me Elias."
Thom finally looked at Nero properly, his gaze sharpening. "And you two are just believing this guy?" His eyes flicked to Nero's face. "He's got a tattoo right on his face. No sane person does that."
Nero's expression didn't change. "It's not a tattoo. It's a crack."
Thom scoffed, letting out a short laugh. "A crack? If that were real, you'd have blood running down your face."
"He's telling the truth," Dorne said, firm. "Anika and I checked it ourselves. And what we found—" He stopped. "Never mind. Just look at the tracker."
Thom gave a half-shrug. "I'm no expert, but I can try. I could take it apart, see what's inside." He glanced at Nero. "That okay with you?"
Nero hesitated. "What could you even find by breaking it? This is the only thing I have that might lead me to who I am. If it's destroyed, that chance is gone."
Thom scratched the back of his neck. "Alright. How about this—I see what I can learn without taking it apart. If I hit a wall, I'll call you over and ask before doing anything permanent. Fair?"
Nero nodded. "Yeah. That works."