Chapter 504 First Floor – Dead Conductor
Three days of time in the city.
Or perhaps more.
Narthrador does not know the sun. There is no change of day and night. But time can be felt—from the changing temperature of the metal, from the way the magic fog descends more slowly, from the way the gears turn with an unsynchronized rhythm. This world... is trying to understand itself anew.
Like a puzzle laid out before them, every element of Narthrador whispers unspoken secrets. The city walls softly murmur, as if the wind swirling through the gaps and cracks holds ancient tales. And in the thousand silent chasms, echoing voices call lost souls to explore their presence in a world that demands meaning from emptiness.
And from the depths of the space where Rinoa's memories are sealed and released again as a form of courage, Fitran rises once more.
His steps are lighter.
Not because the burden has disappeared. But because he accepts that the burden does not need to be healed.
On their journey, a faint shadow trembles at the edge of vision, as if a creature from the darkness waits for the right moment to step into the light, yet remains bound to the mystery of the night. Each step feels like a symphony floating between reality and illusion, bringing them to the thin edge between hope and uncertainty.
Beside him walks Beelzebub.
She does not ask what is happening inside.
And Fitran does not explain.