How many years had it been?

Tatara stood at the edge of the rooftop, his pale features illuminated by the cold glow of the moon. Below, the streets carried on with their typical human monotony—cars whispered past, their headlights carving fleeting paths through the darkness, and distant murmurs of conversations drifted up like smoke on the wind. Crickets chirped faintly in the background, their rhythm almost mocking the stillness of the moment.

He stared down at the world beneath him, his hands clasped behind his back. Humans—so fragile, so utterly insignificant—yet their existence rippled through every corner of his life. They had taken Chi She Lian, his brother, his comrades. And now, as if the years hadn't already taken enough, they had tainted her as well.

You were never strong. Not like us. The thought was sharp, unyielding, but it didn't stop it from surfacing. Even then, you only survived because someone else was always there. Because I was there.

The sound of footsteps reached his ears, faint and hesitant, drawing him from his thoughts. He didn't move, didn't turn to look. He knew who it was. He had always known.

'You're late,' he said, his voice cutting through the quiet like the edge of a blade.