Chapter 19: What Remains

The journey back to the brothel was silent. No words were exchanged, no glances met. The weight of loss clung to them, heavy and suffocating.

Jalen moved with purpose, even as his mind remained blank. As soon as they reached the back of the brothel, he set Stix down gently. Then, without hesitation, he summoned a shovel and started to dig.

The sound of metal striking dirt was the only noise in the air. The steady rhythm of digging continued uninterrupted, unwavering.

Lucio held Rhea close as she clung to him, her body trembling from exhaustion and grief. Nathan stood a short distance away, his usual arrogance absent, his gaze unreadable.

Madame Velda stepped outside, taking in the scene. Her expression softened as she exhaled deeply, rubbing her hands together as if trying to warm herself against the chill in the air. She hesitated for a moment before stepping forward, her voice low and gentle.

"Jalen… I know this pain is unbearable, but you don't have to shoulder it alone."

There was no response. No flicker of acknowledgment. Jalen kept digging, his movements methodical, relentless. Dirt piled beside him as he worked, his face blank, his body running on nothing but determination.

Nathan placed a hand on Velda's shoulder, his voice unusually quiet. "Miss Velda, you should just leave him be, please. You weren't there, and you didn't see what happened."

Velda hesitated, then nodded, allowing Nathan to lead her back inside before he returned to the gravesite.

Rhea swallowed hard, forcing back another sob as she took a shaky step forward. "Jalen, I—" she started, but her voice broke.

Lucio gently pulled her back, his grip firm but understanding. "Not now," he murmured. "Let's go inside."

Rhea hesitated, her eyes lingering on Jalen's hunched figure before she allowed Lucio to guide her away. Silent tears stained his shoulder as they disappeared into the brothel.

Nathan remained, shifting uncomfortably before finally speaking. "Jalen… you don't have to—"

He stopped himself. The words felt useless.

Jalen didn't react, didn't acknowledge him. Nathan clenched his jaw, then sighed and turned away, leaving his friend to grieve in silence.

Jalen finished the grave, lowering Stix into the earth with careful hands. He covered him, slow and deliberate, until the last of the dirt was in place. Then, he sat there, unmoving, staring at the grave as the day stretched on.

He didn't move. He didn't speak.

And as night fell, he remained.

The following days passed in a haze.

Lucio took on the responsibility of keeping things running—handling supplies, making sure they didn't fall apart entirely.

Rhea rarely spoke. She locked herself away in her room, the weight of Stix's sacrifice pressing down on her. Guilt gnawed at her, whispering that it should have been her, that she should have done more. Lucio tried to reach her, but she withdrew further, unable to face him, unable to face herself.

Nathan, unable to sit still, forced himself into training. The ache in his muscles became a distraction from the ache in his chest. And when he saw Jalen still seated at Stix's grave, unmoving, he made a choice.

One morning, he grabbed Jalen by the wrist and pulled him to his feet.

"Enough," Nathan said, his voice hard, masking the grief underneath. "You're coming with me."

Jalen didn't resist. He didn't respond, either.

He let himself be dragged to the training grounds, where Nathan shoved a weapon into his hands.

"You think this is what Stix would've wanted? You wasting away?" Nathan demanded. "Fine. If you won't talk, then fight. Hit me. Do something."

Jalen stared at him, hollow-eyed and lost.

Nathan exhaled sharply, shoving him again. "Damn it, Jalen. Move."

Jalen did.

Not out of anger. Not out of anything, really. His body simply obeyed, falling into movement out of muscle memory.

It wasn't a fight. It wasn't training.

It was just something to do.

Nathan pushed him harder, hoping to find a spark. Hoping to find anything left of the friend he knew.

Because if Jalen wasn't coming back, then maybe none of them were.

The days grew into weeks.

Nathan forced Jalen to fight over and over again, each session only bringing more frustration—until one day, Nathan stopped holding back.

BOOM.

A right jab to the face sent Jalen flying into the dirt. Dust kicked up from the impact, and for the first time in weeks, Nathan saw a flicker of something in Jalen's expression.

Not grief. Not apathy.

Something raw and visceral.

Nathan breathed heavily, fists clenched. "There you are," he muttered. "Come on, Jalen. Show me you're still in there."

Jalen wiped the blood from his lip. His glyphs flickered for a moment.

But instead of retaliating, he simply sat up, staring at the ground.

Nathan's frustration boiled over. "Damn it! Stop shutting down! You're not the only one who lost him! You think Stix died for this? For you to just sit there and waste away?!"

"That's enough, Nathan."

Lucio's voice cut through the tension.

Nathan turned, eyes burning with frustration. "No, it's not! We need him back! He can't just—"

"And beating the hell out of him is your solution?" Lucio stepped forward, voice steady but firm. "We all lost Stix. We're all grieving. But pushing Jalen like this isn't going to bring him back."

Nathan's fists clenched, but he said nothing. His breathing was ragged, his shoulders tense. Then, with a sharp exhale, he turned away, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Lucio sighed and crouched beside Jalen, voice softer. "We don't want to lose you too, Jalen."

Jalen didn't answer. He just stared down at his hands, silent as ever.

Lucio hesitated, then added, "And if I were you, I'd go talk to Rhea. Your voice might be the one to reach her."

Then, he walked off.

Later that day, Jalen finally moved.

He found Rhea and quietly asked, "Come for a walk with me."

She hesitated but nodded, following him through Veyport. They walked in silence, attempting small conversation, but it was awkward and forced.

Then, as they passed by an all-too-familiar alleyway, Rhea stopped.

Her breathing hitched. Before she could stop herself, she broke down.

"I'm sorry," she choked out. "I'm so sorry, Jalen. Stix—he saved me. And I—"

Jalen turned to her, his gaze softer than it had been in weeks.

He stepped closer and, for the first time, pulled her into a hug. "I'm the one who should be sorry," he murmured. "I promised I'd keep you both safe… and I was too weak."

Rhea trembled in his arms, clutching his shirt as sobs wracked her body. "I miss him."

"Me too." Jalen's voice was barely above a whisper. "But you're still here. And I won't fail you again."

For the first time since that night, the weight between them lessened—if only just a little.