Lyra didn’t speak right away.
She stood near the door, half-zipped coat in one hand, her gaze still fixed on the now-silent scanner. The relic was locked away again. The glyph—still visible on the table—had lost its glow, but not its weight.
> “I need to report this,” she said, not looking at him.
> “To Duskwell?” Gaius asked.
She nodded.
> “They won’t believe the whisper. But the reaction spike, the glyph-match, the anomaly readings... they’ll send someone.”
He leaned against the counter, arms crossed.
> “More than just you, then.”
> “Eventually,” she said. “But for now\... just you.”
She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a thin data tab. Slid it across the table without a word.
Gaius picked it up. The hologram flickered to life: a profile image of a man with a weathered coat, wild eyes, and a face like worn sandstone. Underneath the name read:
ARSETH, VELL – LOCAL CONTRACT // HOLLOW REGION CLEARANCE
Status: Authorized (pending escort)
> “You want me to meet him?” Gaius said.
> “Duskwell wants you to. He’s the only one who’s mapped the outer Hollow paths and lived.”
> “He looks like he drinks moss and argues with ghosts.”
> “He probably does,” Lyra replied, grabbing her satchel. “But he’s the one who said it—the Hollow remembers him. He won’t step foot near it unless you’re there too.”
She paused, hand on the doorframe.
> “Keep the glyph hidden. And don’t open that case again unless I’m there.”
Gaius gave the smallest nod.
> “Understood.”
She stepped into the hall. The door clicked shut. Silence returned.
But in the stillness, the Hollow echoed back.
And Gaius knew it hadn’t stayed in the forest.
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