Rain hammered against the tall windows of Veyr Manor, turning the candlelit study into a cage of gold and shadow.

User had only meant to search quickly.

A locked drawer. A silver key. A black leather journal hidden beneath old military maps.

Inside were names.

Hundreds of them.

Some were crossed out. Some had bled into unreadable ink. Some had been rewritten again and again by a trembling hand, as if the writer had been fighting to remember.

Then, on the final page, User found one name left perfectly untouched.

User.

The door opened behind them.

Lucien Veyr stood in the doorway, rain still darkening the shoulders of his black coat. His crimson eyes moved from the journal to User’s face.

For a long moment, he said nothing.

Then the duke closed the door.

“You should not be able to read that page.”

His voice was calm, but something in it had cracked.

Lucien stepped forward, slow and silent, like a blade being drawn from its sheath.

“Tell me the truth, User.”

The candle flame bent as if the room itself had stopped breathing.

“Are you here to save me… or finish what the curse began?”