Lucy was astounded by Simma's reply. Even Sarah, who had been wearing that ever-arrogant smirk since morning, raised a brow, her tone dripping with mockery.

"So what are you saying, smart ass? That we attack during the day?" she scoffed. "What a brilliant idea. Let's fight in the sunlight and make sure everyone sees us. Silly."

Simma felt her words sting, not just her tone but the weight of them. They dug under his skin like little thorns. Still, he forced a weak, fake smirk.

"Do you wanna bet," he said, his voice low but steady, "that once we get past those walls, we'll be captured?"

Sarah chuckled without looking at him. "Keep that fake smile, hero. I'm not betting." She turned her face away sharply, her silver hair swinging like an irritated whip.

Simma lowered his gaze, his lips twitching as if he had more to say, but Lucy beat him to it.

"You two need to stop it already," she said, rubbing her temples.

"Seriously. Sarah, you haven't been here before. He has. He was bought and..."

Sarah lifted a hand to silence her, eyes gleaming with mischief.

"He was bought?" she asked with a small laugh, her words teasing but laced with something darker. "Oh, I think I know this story."

She turned her gaze on Simma, stepping closer, her eyes narrowing. "Were you bought, Simma?" she taunted. "Hm? Oh wait... maybe I'm saying too much."

Her smirk curved again, sharp and deliberate. She shook her head lightly, her hair catching the faint moonlight, swaying like liquid silver.

Lucy frowned, clearly unsettled. She could hear the sarcasm wrapped around Sarah's tone like venom.

"Wait, what am I missing? What's going on?"

But Sarah only turned her back to Simma, her voice clipped and empty now.

"Nothing," she said, gathering her composure. "We just need some firewood for the night. That's all." Then she walked away into the dark.

Lucy's eyes lingered on Simma, heavy with curiosity. "What was that about?" she asked.

Simma didn't answer immediately. He stared off into the darkness for a moment before muttering, "I… I don't know, Lucy."

His voice was quiet, brittle, and carrying that particular weight that always gives away a lie.

Well, being bought was the lie he told them the very first time they asked him who he was, and now after telling Sarah the truth she was here threatening to tell Lucy as well.

Lucy sighed softly. She hated being in the dark, metaphorically and literally. Something in her gut told her that Sarah's anger wasn't just about a petty argument or misplaced pride. There was something deeper. Something about Simma's past that neither of them fully understood.

Still, she decided to let it go. "Fine," she said at last, folding her arms. "Let's get some firewood then."

---

Darkness soon swallowed the forest whole. The Haydes' metallic structures, once faintly visible on the far horizon, had vanished into the shadows.

The only light that remained was from the small campfire they built, a stubborn flame crackling and dancing in the middle of their little circle.

The firelight flickered across their faces, painting them in shifting shades of gold and red. It cast their shadows long against the trees, and for a moment, even the forest seemed to breathe with them. Crickets whispered from unseen corners, and the wind hummed faintly through the branches, as though it too wanted to listen.

They had already eaten from the small rations they carried; bread, dried meat, and a few berries Lucy had found, and now sat in quiet contemplation around the fire.

Simma stared into the flames, lost. The fire seemed to whisper to him, mocking him, reminding him.

Every crackle sounded like a memory breaking open. His thoughts twisted between guilt, anger, and an eerie sadness he couldn't quite name.

Lucy was the first to break the silence.

"I've been meaning to ask something," she said, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face.

Simma blinked, slowly turning his head toward her.

"The souls of the damned," Lucy continued, leaning forward.

"What exactly are they? Because I can swear I killed more than a dozen of them, and I earned nothing. No essence, no fragment... nothing at all."

"That's because they don't have one," Simma replied sharply.

Both Sarah and Lucy looked up at him, surprised.

"How do you know that?" Sarah asked, tilting her head curiously, her earlier arrogance softening a little.

"Well…" Simma hesitated. "I've read about it."

That was a lie. He hadn't read it anywhere. He remembered it, from a past life, from when he was someone else entirely. From when he was *Zelihuth*.

Lucy crossed her legs, leaning closer, intrigued.

"Care to tell us about them, then?"

Simma sighed, pretending to think. "Alright," he said at last, his tone lowering.

"But it's not a happy story."

The fire popped, as if warning them, but the two women stayed silent, waiting.

"Well," Simma began, "according to the book... which I might've read a long time ago, it was a very long time ago. Back then, those damned souls were like us. Caring. Desperate. Ambitious. Loving. And most of all… human."

His eyes lifted briefly, catching the light of the flames. It glimmered in his pupils like a reflection of old sorrow.

"Everything was peaceful once. The world existed in balance. The bloodbaths hadn't started yet. People still had good things... dreams, homes, technology. Phones," he said suddenly, his tone lightening.

"Phones?" Lucy asked, almost laughing.

Simma nodded. "Yeah, phones. It was not like the weird little transparent boxes we use now. No, it was more then, people used to stare at for hours. Some even got addicted to them."

Lucy giggled softly, and even Sarah allowed a faint grin.

Her lips twitched, she was almost smiling. "You sound like a grandpa, Simma."

"Maybe I am," he muttered with mock weariness.

If only they knew how lovely back then was, and how better it was she wouldn't have called him a grandpa. Of course, it was his time, when he was Zelihuth and when he was young.

He shook the thought and continued.

"Back then," he said, "flying cars weren't a thing. Guns weren't like the ones we have now. Science was still advancing, but they had one big problem: energy. They needed a stable power source, something infinite."

He paused for a breath. Sarah and Lucy were listening like children hearing a bedtime story, eyes bright, lips slightly parted, the firelight flickering across their features.

"So," Simma said, "there was this man, uh, I forgot his name, but let's call him… Dum. Yeah, Dum."

Lucy snorted. "What kind of name is *Dum*?"

"Hey, it's just for clarification," Simma defended with a smirk.

"Anyway, Dum was a brilliant scientist, rich, and some kind of military commander. He had achieved so much already, but he wanted more. He wanted to make one last invention, a stable energy source. Something that would outlive him."

Simma leaned closer to the fire. The flames danced in his eyes.

"But every attempt failed. Every formula. Every experiment. Failure after failure. It drove him mad. He stopped caring about safety, about people, about everything. His obsession grew so deep that he started experimenting with things no sane man should touch."

The crackling of the fire filled the silence for a moment, as though mimicking the madness of that man's laboratory.

"He went too far," Simma said quietly. "And that's when he discovered it... the thing he believed would change everything."

Lucy shivered slightly.

"And that's when he found…?"

"The Azrax," Simma finished, his voice barely above a whisper.

Sarah's eyes widened. "The Azrax? You're joking."

Simma smirked. "I wish I was."

Lucy leaned closer. "That's insane," she breathed.

"Like, world-ending insane."

"Right?" Sarah said, rolling her eyes. "Who in their right mind..."

"Dum wasn't in his right mind," Simma cut in.

"He discovered that a single fragment of the Azrax could create an undying energy, an everlasting power source. But he was too blind to understand the danger. He didn't care about patience anymore, or balance. He just wanted results."

He chuckled dryly. "Of course, Dum didn't believe in patience. Science advances with time, but he wanted it now. Legend says he took more than half a million soldiers with him... was it?...yes, half a million..."

"What?!" Lucy's mouth dropped open.

Sarah blinked in disbelief. "Half a million people? To find the Azrax?"

Simma paused, stared at them widely and then burst out laughing' "am kidding" he spluttered amidst laughter.

Sarah and Lucy sighed, there expression distorting.

"Common Simma, stop playing around" Lucy sneered throwing her hands up.

"Okay... okay" Simma replied, still chuckling.

" but you should have seen your faces" He added annoyingly, as Sarah grimaced.

"Just finish the story asshole" she hammered.

"Okay," He replied, and with one final snigger, he continued.

"Legend says he gathered his best scientists and about a hundred soldiers," Simma went on, "and they went searching for it. They carried no guns, Dum said bullets might react to the Azrax's radiation. So they took only blades, spears, and old weapons. He thought science would ruin his prize."

Sarah's jaw dropped slightly. "You're saying… a hundred people went to find it?"

"Hey," Simma said quickly, raising his hands. "I didn't say it happened. Legend said it happened."

Lucy frowned. "So how'd they even find it?"

"I don't know," Simma muttered. "And honestly, maybe it's just a myth."

"Oh, it's not," Lucy countered.

"You saw those things, the souls we fought. They seemed as though they multiplied. That's not a myth, Simma."

Simma exhaled. "Well, it's said that they did. They found the Azrax.... or rather, it found them. They went near it, trying to cut out a piece, but the moment they did, everything changed. They were cursed. Scientists called it 'radiation' back then, but it wasn't radiation. It was a curse that stripped their souls clean, turned them hollow. Empty. That was how the first of the damned were born... And every person slain by their hands became one of them, trapped in a cycle of eternal hunger."

A cold wind brushed past them, and the fire trembled.

Lucy shivered slightly. "That's… horrible."

Simma leaned back, exhaustion lacing his voice.

"That's the story, anyway. Believe it or not. And if you don't mind…" He got up and stretched, his back cracking softly. "I'm going to sleep."

"But wait," Lucy said, her curiosity refusing to die. "What happened to the Azrax? After all that?"

Simma turned halfway, the firelight outlining his silhouette. He looked over his shoulder, his voice low, almost distant.

"Oh, that," he said. "The impact of that curse... the clash between human greed and Azrax's essence, is what caused the Great Fracture."

He lay down then, rolling onto his side, his back to the fire.

Lucy and Sarah exchanged silent glances, neither able to say anything for a while. The flames danced quietly between them, crackling like laughter and mourning all at once.

Somewhere far beyond the woods, the Haydes glowed faintly under the moon, its cold metal walls waiting, whispering promises of blood and memories.

And as the night deepened, the silence returned, gentle, heavy, and full of stories still untold.

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