Imprisoned

The portal collapsed behind Buji with a resonant *snap*, sealing away the dungeon's suffocating darkness. The hunters outside froze, their weapons half-drawn, as the blood-streaked boy emerged alone. His Void-Metal Armor, now a deep cerulean, clung to his lean frame like a second skin, its surface shimmering faintly under the midday sun. Aetherfang hung loosely in his grip, its blade still slick with wyrm's blood.

Kira's breath caught. Her notes slipped from her hands, scattering in the wind. *He's alive.* The thought crashed over her in waves—relief, confusion, terror. But the boy standing before the crowd wasn't the Buji she knew. His posture was rigid, his amethyst eyes cold and distant, scanning the hunters like a predator sizing up prey.