The pit had fallen into an eerie, solemn silence, heavy with finality. Mazi glanced at Esa, slumped on the sandy ground, leaning weakly against his knee and arm, with Kaya kneeling beside him. Everyone was finally catching their breath. The Khoraz were gone, their lifeless bodies sprawled across the sand, their wrathful power extinguished after all these years. Yet the moment felt strangely sad, bittersweet. Mazi had imagined victory against the Khoraz would feel triumphant, even liberating. Instead, it left a quiet ache.

Perhaps Sheera was right—healing the wound isn't in revenge, but in letting it go. Sheera had told Esa and Mazi that many times at the monastery. Mazi could almost hear him saying the words now.

He turned to Kaya, and relief swelled in his chest, immediately—relief that he had met someone as extraordinary as her. And yet, concern lingered as he noticed the way she looked at Esa, the worry etched so clearly on her face. He shook the thought from his mind.

Mazi's thoughts swirled, restless and scattered, pulling him in a dozen directions at once—suddenly interrupted as Joher and Ibris simultaneously moved toward Sheera, who had begun coughing uncontrollably. And then it hit Mazi—Sheera was dying. His old teacher, the one who had shaped so much of who he was, was slipping away.

Esa, weakened but resolute, insisted, "Help me up. Take me to Sheera." After defeating the Khoraz, he could barely lift his arm. Whether the STIMs had worn off or his body was at its limit didn't matter—his determination to reach Sheera was unshakable.

While Mazi spent his years with the monks at the Dawa monastery, Esa trained closely with Sheera, mastering meditation, martial arts, and the art of flight. Together, they had studied the Gab Nori and the principles of Dawa. If anyone had the right to be by Sheera's side now, it was Esa.

The rest of the group had already gathered around Sheera. The large eagle halfbreed lay sprawled on the ground, coughing violently, his massive frame trembling with each labored breath. Each attempt to push himself onto his talon ended in collapse, until finally, he stopped struggling, his body giving in to exhaustion.

Reaching Sheera first, Ibris knelt beside his old teacher, gently supporting his neck with one hand. "Ummanu," his voice heavy with concern, "please, rest. I'll get you home..." He was filled with deep, aching sorrow.

"Ibris," Sheera rasped, coughing up blood.

"That was him... Ashur," Ibris whispered, somberly.

Sheera's tired eyes flickered with faint pride, as if reassured his old student was still in there somewhere. "I'm afraid..." he coughed again, his breathing ragged, "his return marks the beginning... of the end of our time. Our world is in grave danger."

Ibris shook his head, panic flashing across his face.

Then, Mazi and Kaya arrived, supporting Esa between them, his arms draped lightly over their shoulders. They carefully lowered him down across from Ibris.  "Master Sheera is right," Esa said, his gaze locking intensely with Ibris.

Mazi could almost see the question forming in Ibris' mind. What could that possibly mean?

Mazi wondered the same.

Sheera coughed again, more violently this time.

"We have to do what it takes to save Atlantis, to save our world," Esa said, repeated, holding onto Sheera.

Sheera continued to coughed, a tear rolling down his feathered face. "My only regret is that... I can't walk this path any further with you," his voice breaking. "I am leaving you all with this great burden. I thought I could handle it in my lifetime, but... here I am, at the end." He paused, his chest rising and falling unevenly. "All I know is this—that sentient android must be destroyed if humanity is to survive."

Sheera's words hung heavy in the air, as though the future of the world itself had just been placed in their hands.

Mazi often forgot just how much Sheera had impacted Ibris, who always seemed so independent and self-sufficient. Yet, so much of that strength must have come from Sheera. Like Esa and him, Ibris had spent much of his childhood under Sheera's watchful gaze, serving as his first acolyte in the Grand Citadel.

"I'll give you my word," Ibris said, trembling. "I'll do everything in my power."

Sheera gave him a faint, approving nod. He paused, glancing toward Esa, "Esa will show you the way."

The mention of Esa's name made Ibris' jaw tightening.

Esa's voice trembled, his resolve cracking. "Master Sheera, you're going to be okay..." he whispered, before turning desperately toward Joher and Ibris. "Help him, please."

Joher knelt down beside Sheera, his medical tablet in hand. He ran a quick scan, his expression grim. "His vitals are dangerously low," he said, somberly. "Sheera's bleeding internally, and I don't have the equipment to help him." Joher glanced upward at the harsh desert sun bearing down on them, then back at Sheera, "...there isn't much we can do, but pray."

With that, Joher closed his eyes and began murmuring a prayer over Sheera, his voice soft and reverent. Sheera's golden eyes flickered weakly toward Joher, and he managed a faint smile. "Thank you, friend," Sheera rasped, barely audible, accepting the blessing with quiet grace.

Sheera's body shook violently, and Esa's composure began to crumble.

"No, no, Master, please stay with us!" Esa pleaded.

Beside him, Mazi's usually calm demeanor faltered too, he whispered, "Master Sheera..."

Ibris placed a hand on Sheera's heaving chest, as if trying to assess how to help him. "Ummanu... please," he said, with desperation, "we need more time."

Sheera's golden eyes, dimming with each passing moment, shifted between Esa, Mazi, and Ibris. "Look at what great men you have all become," he smiled, weakly. "You filled my life with such purpose, especially since I never had a family of my own. I always thought of you as my own."

He coughed violently, blood staining his beak and feathers, his body trembling with the effort. "I'm afraid," his energy growing fainter, "you have a glorious... but terrible destiny ahead of you, all of you."

Mazi noticed, for a brief moment, the animosity between Ibris and Esa seemed to dissolve. Esa managed a faint smile at Ibris, and, surprisingly, Ibris returned it.

Sheera turned to Mazi, filled with pride and tenderness. "Oh, Mazi. How wise and strong you've grown. I always knew you would bring peace to the lives of everyone around you."

Then Sheera's gaze shifted, moving between Esa and Ibris. "You two have always reminded me of one another, like brothers," he said. "I know things have been hard between you, but hope for our world lies in making amends with one another—and within ourselves."

Esa clenched his jaw and turned away, and Mazi could see the unresolved turmoil still simmering beneath the surface. Ibris, meanwhile, stared at the ground, consumed by shame. 

"I know you both have your journeys," Sheera trembled with growing frailty."But this old man prays that, in time, you will come to see the wisdom in my words." With those final words, Sheera exhaled one last, shuddering breath, and then he was gone.

Esa, Mazi, and Ibris all had tears streaming down their faces, their grief raw and silent. All three of them wept, their grief raw and unrestrained, like little boys mourning the only father they had ever known.

Kaya comfortingly wrapped her arms around both Esa and Mazi's shoulders. Yoshua rested a steadying hand on his old friend Ibris' shoulder. Joher stood slightly apart, watching solemnly. Mazi caught the faintest flicker of worry in Joher's expression, and he wondered if Joher was thinking about his own family's fate.

After some time, they began to rise, the sun bearing down on them. Their tears had dried, but they stood in silence, unsure of how to move forward or what to do next.

Then, the sound of an engine roared through the air. A large black airship, not the Ishtar's Veil, flew across the torn-down arena, its silhouette cutting through the haze of dust and destruction. At the same moment, Ibris' tablet buzzed softly.

Ibris glanced at it and saw a message from Marcus: "Something came up. I had to go. Here's your ride home."

Mazi heard Ibris whisper, "Marcus," his expression shifted from anger to relief.

Mazi shielded his eyes against the glaring sun, squinting as he watched the airship descend, its silhouette cutting through the haze and dust to land just beyond the crumbling arena.

Yoshua quietly said, "Let's go." He grabbed a nearby spear, bending it into a makeshift tool, and began digging into the sandy ground to make a grave.

As Yoshua worked, Ibris and Joher moved to join him, but Esa forced himself to his feet, swaying slightly.

"Stop," Esa said to Yoshua. Mazi stayed close behind, ready to catch him if he faltered. "I've got it," Esa said through clenched teeth, as he pushed through the pain. Summoning what little strength he had left, Esa used his abilities to dig a grave in the sand. Together, they gently laid Sheera to rest in the heat. The group stood in solemn silence for some more moments.

Mazi took in his surroundings. The crumbling, vast arena had become a mausoleum for one of the greatest men Atlantis had ever known—Master Sheera of the Dawa Order, the revered Ummanu of the Grand Citadel. Mazi wondered if the world would remember him. He knew he always would.

Esa, his voice steady despite his exhaustion, recited a passage from the Gab Nori, Chapter of the Fisherman:

"The road to Ava is not where we end,
But where another beginning will send.

"Her waters flow far past the horizon's line,
Her winds will guide to realms divine.
We are but travelers, our paths set free,
By her hand, we sail to the eternal sea."

The rest of them simply listened, the weight of his words settling over them.

As they turned to board the airship, Ibris suddenly spoke up. "Wait," his voice uncharacteristically hesitant. "I'd like to recite something too."

The group paused and turned back to him with surprise. Ibris stepped forward and recited from the Chapter of Ava Nori:

"The Goddess's blessing is for the next life,
Granted to those who transcend this strife,
Who have lived this one with truth and grace,
And pursued justice in every place.

"Through her mercy, the cycle will cease,
Granting the faithful eternal peace."

He took a deep, shaky breath. "I know no one else who fits that verse better than Sheera. Ava Nori!" He said, looking towards the sky.

"Ava Nori!" Esa and Mazi echoed in unison.

Joher, Kaya, and Yoshua nodded respectfully, standing silently in support, though they did not join in Nori religion's last rites.

As the group boarded the airship and began their journey to Masrynai Skyport, the atmosphere was tense.

Joher, overwhelmed by grief, broke down as they boarded, voicing his fears for his wife and parents, whom he hadn't found in the underground cells. In an effort to comfort him, Esa shared a vivid and painful memory: moments before the explosion that destroyed their transport in Buramiya. Esa explained how, in a desperate bid to save Joher's family from capture, he had parted the ground and covered them with dirt and folliage, hiding them from the enemy's view. He told Joher about giving his wife Sumaya a Gab Nori, hoping Ava Nori was watching over them.

Esa's story struck Joher like a thunderclap, igniting a spark of hope. He suddenly remembered his wife's sister, who lived in Monika City. Pulling out his new medical tablet—which Ibris had provided after Joher had lost his old one in the chaos in Buramiya—Joher hugged Esa, his entire body trembling. In a choked voice, he explained that he hadn't thought to call his sister-in-law amid the turmoil, but if he knew Sumaya, that's exactly where she would have gone.

Without hesitation, Joher made the call. Relief flooded him when his wife's sister answered, assuring him that his wife and parents were safe and staying with her in Monika City. Joher thanked her, his free hand clenching into a fist, anchoring him to this newfound hope. "Elah is great." He murmured, with deep conviction.

Esa nodded at him, gladly, then quietly made his way to the front of the cabin. Mazi noticed he was deliberately avoiding Ibris. Without hesitation, Kaya followed Esa.

Mazi, however, settled into a seat at the back of the cabin, joining Yoshua and Ibris, who were deep in a whispered conversation about Ashur. They discussed why Marcus had taken him and what his true motives might be. Mazi could feel the tension radiating from them.

Mazi glanced toward the front of the cabin, where Kaya and Esa sat engrossed in a more lively conversation. From the snippets he could catch, it sounded like they were talking about laser guns and energy swords.

Mazi turned to Yoshua, "I'd like to speak with you, if now is okay."

Yoshua raised an eyebrow, studying him for a moment, but then nodded. "Alright." He gave Kaya a brief glance.

The faint sound of airship drifted around them. Mazi, though visibly fatigued, carried himself with a quiet determination. "I didn't get a chance to formally ask your permission," he began, respectfully, "to... to court your niece," Mazi stammered.

Yoshua let out a quiet sigh, his shoulders sagging slightly. Mazi could tell Yoshua had anticipated this conversation, but that didn't make it any easier for either of them.

Yoshua looked toward where Kaya sat beside Esa, his concern for her evident.

"I'm very serious about Kaya," Mazi said, knowing the Kahkati tribe upheld formal traditions, where a man was expected to seek the family's blessing before declaring his intentions to the woman. "I care for her deeply. But with your permission, I'd like to—"

"It's up to her," Yoshua interrupted, uncomfortably. " No doubt, you are a good man, Mazi. Kaya is a grown woman now. I will support whatever she decides."

Mazi inclined his head slightly, a gesture of respect. "Thank you."

Yoshua's gaze hardened. "Just... don't hurt her."

"I won't," Mazi replied, sincerely. "Thank you," he repeated.

For a moment, neither of them moved. Kaya glanced back at them, as if sensing their quiet exchange, filled with curiosity. She gave them a slight nod, as if to ask, What's going on? But neither Yoshua nor Mazi spoke.

Ibris loudly blew on his tea, the sound cutting through the tension. "I never realized how much I enjoyed tea," he smiled widely, flashing his perfect teeth, "until I gave up the ambrosia." He raised the steaming cup to his lips and took a loud sip.

Yoshua and Mazi shifted uncomfortably, suddenly aware that Ibris had been watching them the entire time.

"What kind of tea is it?" Yoshua asked, uncomfortably.

"Alemurian red leaf." He responded, holding back a chuckle. "I can't tell you how grateful I was that we didn't have to fight that Ashur thing," Ibris added, taking another sip, the steam curling around his face and horns.

"Ashur appeared formidable," Yoshua agreed, gravely.

"No kidding," Mazi added, running a hand through his long curly hair, "Given what we saw in the arena, I thought we were all dead." He exhaled deeply, finally allowing himself to relax.

"Esa could've probably taken him," Ibris murmured under his breath, low enough that Esa wouldn't hear.

"Esa was in no shape to take on Ashur," Mazi countered quietly, equally careful not to let Esa overhear.

"Perhaps," Yoshua said, thoughtfully.

Ibris' expression grew more serious as he turned to Mazi, with sincerity. "You think he'll ever forgive me for what happened?"

Mazi hesitated, uncertain. He didn't know Esa to be a man who easily forgave, but he hoped for Ibris's sake. "I believe so," he murmured.

Joher suddenly spoke up. "I'm worried," he announced with urgency. "Marcus is going to use Ashur for his own agenda."

"He always does," Ibris said, laughing a little.

Everyone turned to look at Joher.

Yoshua leaned forward and asked: "Why do you think that?"

Joher hesitated for a moment before continuing. "Because when Marcus freed that... that thing, I was there. I had gone to look for my family, but when I returned, Marcus was speaking to it. He had already removed its restraints—runes similar to those around Esa. From what I could gather, he made a deal with that machine. I didn't catch the first part, but I heard Ashur's response." Joher paused, his expression darkening. "'I will help you take them down,' he said."

Ibris and Yoshua exchanged a grim look, their shared mistrust of Marcus now deepened.

"I hope," Yoshua said with doubt, "No, I pray to the Great Mother that we're missing something. Marcus Sumeri may be a sky god and a lying son of a bitch, but he's not an evil man. Right?"

"Marcus is playing with fire," Mazi added. "The last time we allowed sentient androids to exist, they nearly wiped out Atlantis. That machine is not to be trusted."

Ibris gave a small nod, his expression dark. "As far as I'm concerned," he said, coldly, "Marcus Sumeri is dead to me."

Then, Joher reached into his pocket and pulled out the rune-etched restraints that had been used to bind Ashur. "I picked these up after Marcus released the machine," he said, his brow furrowed in thought.

"Based on what Khuri said," Joher continued, "before he... well, before he died, he gave me an idea. I think I might have a way to help Geshar." He held up the restraints, his expression resolute. "With these."

Mazi and Ibris exchanged a glance, their eyes briefly settling on the runes. A flicker of realization crossed Mazi's face. He knew those restraints could do more than just help Geshar—they might be the key to containing the sentient android once more.