Kael remained frozen, his eyes still fixed on the chessboard. He was trembling, but this time it was neither fear nor confusion. It was… pure exhilaration. The vertigo of having glimpsed something too vast for the mind to contain — yet instinctively recognized by the heart.

  He finished his tea in a mechanical motion, without even thinking about it. Then, in a sudden movement, he rose and grabbed the book resting beside him:

  Cogito ergo sum.

  He pressed it against his chest as if it contained more than knowledge — as if it held a key.

  His voice, still trembling, broke the silence.

  “I have to go, Mister Dubium. I’ll come back. Soon.”

  Without waiting for an answer, he crossed the threshold of the library.

  His footsteps echoed, heavy with meaning. Moments later, he was already gone.

  Dubium remained alone in the room. He looked at the chessboard still set, the pieces frozen in their final position. A faint smile brushed his lips.

  “He is more than perfect,” he murmured.

  “Even without my presence… I am almost certain he would have found what to do.”

  He leaned forward, picked up a white piece between his fingers, and turned it slowly, thoughtfully. Then… he placed the king back at the center.

  …

  The wind was blowing — cold and dry — but he barely felt it.

  He was elsewhere.

  I already know who is tied to the cause of my Trial.

  In truth, I think I have always known. Since the beginning, since the moment I arrived here. I’ve been lying to myself. That’s all.

  Kael walked with his head lowered against the wind, his hands buried deep in his pockets. No one on the road back.

  Not a sound. Just his thoughts.

  It’s crazy… I thought this world would follow the same rules as ours. But no. It’s something else. The people, the manners, the clothes — even the food… Everything feels wrong.

  Or too smooth.

  Too clean.

  And why don’t they carry weapons, most of them?

  That’s not normal.

  And aside from those damn cars, nothing really seems dangerous. That’s suspicious.

  Under his arm, the book was pressed tightly against him: Cogito ergo sum. He ran a hand through his hair. His eyes were unfocused, but his mind would not stop.

  Althéa… Lucanis…

  I hope they’re okay.

  I didn’t even have time to think about them since I got here. Fuck. Maybe for them, the Trial is already over.

  Or maybe they’re handling it better than I am. Wouldn’t be hard.

  And Vélara? He exhaled sharply, irritated.

  I hope she stayed in the Coliseum. Like we agreed. But that woman never listens to anything…

  A brief, bitter smile crossed his lips. A memory surfaced.

  One night, during training, he had told her what he’d heard in the cemetery of the Broken Crown — that man’s singing voice.

  He hadn’t mentioned the Axis, nor Sylène, not this time. But he knew that man… the one who had sabotaged the survival course…

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  He was dangerous. He had something against Althéa. Or against the Axis. Or both.

  Fuck…

  He sagged slightly, slowing his pace. An invisible fist tightened around his chest.

  She almost killed me that night. When I told her I knew about the Axis. What the hell was I thinking? Why did I speak?

  He clenched his teeth and shook his head. The wind kept biting at his skin.

  And Sylène… He frowned. She still intrigues me just as much.

  He tightened his grip on the book. I need to get out of here. I need to talk to Althéa. About all of this. About what we saw. About that woman, her face frozen in a smile…

  A shiver ran through him.

  She saw her too. I’m sure of it. And maybe… with a bit of luck… she won’t want to kill me anymore.

  He lifted his eyes toward the clouds, his jaw tight.

  And the Broken Crown… He exhaled slowly.

  Vélara told me she’d go there with me, to clear all of this up with Connie about the buyer.

  He tightened his fists inside his pockets, the leather creaking faintly.

  The Protectorate… His teeth ground together.

  Those dogs won’t have a choice.

  Not this time.

  They’ll have to listen to me. I’ll be Revealed. I’ll be accompanied by the wielder of the most powerful Elan in the world. That alone.

  A cold smirk crossed his face, devoid of joy.

  They’re going to pay. For not listening to me seven years ago.

  Seven years.

  Screaming into the void. Begging to be taken seriously. To have someone look. To have someone dig.

  To be believed.

  But nothing.

  Just empty stares and condescending sighs.

  When I reported my mother’s disappearance…

  He clenched his teeth harder. A long, icy shiver of anger rose through him.

  Directly or indirectly… they’re tied to the mysterious buyer. No one enters the Broken Crown without them knowing. Nothing escapes them.

  He sighed, this time softer.

  A trace of regret.

  And Maria…

  He slowed slightly. The memory of the young woman, always smiling despite everything, came back to him.

  I hope she’s managing.

  And that Connie made her the dress she wanted. A real dress. Not some makeshift improvisation.

  He smiled despite himself.

  The house came into view. The car was still there, parked just in front.

  He frowned.

  Then he slipped to the side, discreetly, almost instinctively, afraid she might notice him.

  He took the steps two at a time, turned the handle without a sound, and stepped inside.

  “I’m back,” he called.

  He removed his shoes and left them by the entrance, then headed toward his room.

  The room was exactly as he had left it.

  Cause was still open on his desk.

  He swept it with his gaze without lingering.

  He gently placed Cogito ergo sum beside it, with a certain reverence.

  His saber was there as well. Still resting on his bed. The Needle-Case Band attached to its scabbard.

  His eyes settled on the strip of white fabric.

  A trace of nostalgia tightened his throat.

  He gently closed the door to his room, then took a few steps toward the living room.

  She was there.

  His mother.

  Sitting on the couch in front of the television, she lifted her eyes toward him. A smile on her lips. A sincere light in her eyes.

  She stood and walked toward him, joyful.

  And he smiled too. But behind that smile…

  A thought imposed itself. Clear. Dry. Irrepressible.

  There it is. The cause of my trouble.

  His mother was speaking. She was smiling at him, cheerfully, almost naively.

  But Kael wasn’t listening.

  He stood there, frozen, staring at the face he had longed so desperately to see again… without hearing a single word she said.

  His thoughts looped endlessly.

  It’s her. She’s my fracture.

  It’s not that I didn’t know. I knew.

  I’ve always known…

  But I refused to admit it.

  It was stronger than him — always had been. To look away. To keep his head high. To act tough — he had always done that. Like a reflex. Like armor.

  But it’s her. From the very beginning. My breaking point. My flaw.

  She was still talking, and he answered with an automatic smile.

  But he wasn’t there anymore.

  His mind had already plunged back into that night when everything shifted.

  When she left, I was ten.

  Ten.

  He saw again the reflection of a child standing alone before the Protectorate, begging to be heard.

  They laughed in my face. Those bastards.

  After that, he had wandered through the Canal districts, searched every corner of the Lantern Market. Spent entire days waiting on their doorstep, hoping that maybe — just maybe — she would come back.

  Then the neighbors threw him out. The door closed.

  He ended up sleeping outside.

  He fed himself with whatever he could find. Sometimes even from trash bins.

  But he kept his head high. Always.

  As if it didn’t affect him.

  As if it didn’t matter.

  But the truth… was that he had cried until there was nothing left in him. Entire nights. Weeks. Months.

  A chasm had opened inside him. And nothing — no one — had ever been able to fill it.

  The worst part wasn’t the pain.

  It was not knowing.

  What happened to her?

  Why did she leave?

  How could she just disappear like that?

  Maybe she abandoned him.

  Maybe she didn’t.

  But knowing… would have helped him move on.

  That blur. That uncertainty.

  That’s the real poison.

  He looked at his mother, still smiling, as if none of it had ever happened.

  And he understood.

  This one… isn’t really my mother.

  Just a memory. A reflection.

  A substitute created to deliver a message.

  And I wasn’t even capable of understanding it right away.

  He smiled despite himself.

  It wasn’t a smile of joy.

  It was a smile of exhaustion. Of acceptance. Of farewell.

  It felt good to see her face again. To hear her voice.

  But the Kael who needed her… had ceased to exist long ago.

  This moment was tinged with softness. With regret, yes. With wounds still open.

  But above all… with resilience.

  I’ve found the cause.