Evan closed his eyes as he reflected on Fenrir’s words. He knew the core was right. In the end, the humans were expendable. A means to an end. Pawns fated to die to further his only goal — to destroy The Labyrinth.

He opened his eyes to find Astrid staring back at him.

“So then why am I so intent on keeping them alive? On saving them?” he whispered to the core.

“Perhaps all that time alone has made us less … or more ... than we were before? More … human,” Fenrir chuckled in his mind.

The summoner smiled at the core’s humor. It had been a long time since he had felt so much. After losing everyone he loved, Evan, and by extension Fenrir, had grown cold. Uncaring. Emotionless. They killed without remorse. Whether their victims were enemies or potential allies didn’t matter to them.

After all, what are ants to a God?

He shook his head to clear his thoughts. “How is Mel doing? Was she hurt?” he asked.

A sad smile slipped over Astrid’s face. “No, she’s fine. But she is taking Jason’s death really hard. She loved the boy, even if she didn’t want to admit it to herself.” Her voice dropped in volume as she spoke until it was hardly a whisper.

“Our biggest regrets are not for the things we have done, but for the things we didn’t do. We understand that better than most,” Fenrir said softly.

“Is there anything we can do?” Evan asked. He hadn’t known any of them for very long, but they had released him from the chains that bound him and had treated him with more kindness than he had expected. 

Astrid bit her lip as she spoke. “No. The best thing for her now is to grieve. But—” she paused for a moment before continuing without looking at him, “it may be best that you don’t speak to her for now.”

Evan raised an eyebrow as he considered her words. “Why?”

“She blames you for Jason’s death,” she said flatly.

It took a moment for Evan to process what the healer had said.

“But ... he died protecting you,” Evan pointed out slowly.

Tears welled up in Astrid’s eyes as she spoke. “I know that!” she cried, clenching her fists as she stood up. For a second, the healer looked angry, but the moment passed and her face contorted in sadness.

“I know,” she repeated.

“Grief has a habit of imparting blame. Mel has chosen to impart that blame onto you. Give her time. It will fade.,” she mumbled softly.

Evan watched as the healer hung her head. Her pain was obvious. Pain born from her own grief. From her own guilt.

He laid a hand on her head and gave her a sad smile as Fenrir spoke. “Grief can be a burden, but also an anchor. You get used to the weight. How it holds you in place. That is also something that we understand better than most.”

The healer raised her eyes and nodded her head. Her swollen eyes shone with appreciation. “Oh, I almost forgot to mention. Sasha would like to have a word with you. I’ll go get her.”

Fenrir and Evan watched as she wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. She gave him a quick smile before turning and walking out of the room.

The silence in the room was deafening. It reminded him too much of the silent dungeon that he had spent a lifetime in. To ward it off, the summoner began tapping a gray finger against the metal cup. He felt a tightness in his chest.

“Fenrir, do you think we are responsible for Jason’s death?” he asked aloud.

“I honestly do not know, my King. Perhaps we are and perhaps we are not,” the core replied.

He decided to preoccupy himself by going over the changes in his status. It had not occurred to him how massive the penalty that [A God’s Wrath] inflicted was at the beginning of the battle. He had forgotten himself. Fallen too far into his own emotions like when he had been younger. He would have to be more careful. His solitude had damaged him in more ways than he had expected. The need for revenge had been replaced by something else. Something more. 

[Status].

[Name]: Evan (Soulbound to Dungeon Core - Fenrir)

[Class]: Dungeon Core Summoner

[Evolutions]: God Eater (Tier I)

[Mana]: 61,000 / 1,001,000

[Level]: 10 (3250 / 200,000 experience)

Evan was driven out of his own thoughts by the creaking of the door as it opened. He watched as the older, gray-haired woman from earlier walked across the room and sat down in the chair next to him. 

Up close he could clearly see the marks of age on her face. She had a darker complexion than most of the humans that Evan had seen before, and it was obvious that she was tired. Her face was hard, betraying little emotion, but an air of kindness radiated from the woman.

“I wanted to thank you for what you did. I have spent my whole life in one war or another, and I know that without you and your … friends … Citadel would have fallen,” she said. Her voice was strong and confident.

Evan stared at her outstretched hand, completely confused as to what he was supposed to do. Did he want him to give her something?

Several awkward seconds passed before she withdrew her hand slowly, a smile creeping onto her tired face. “Guess the damn girl wasn’t lying after all,” she chuckled.

“Who was not lying about what?” Evan asked, still confused.

“Astrid told me about how and where they found you. You wouldn’t be the first Hunter that realized how much experience they could gain by killing other humans. And you wouldn’t be the first Killer that a party had left tied inside a dungeon. I just wanted to make sure the little story you told her had a hint of truth to it,” Sasha replied nonchalantly.

Evan nodded his head in understanding. “Power is dangerous. It corrupts the best and attracts the worst. The greatest power is only given to those who are prepared to lower themselves to pick it up.”

The lady’s tired face broke out into another smile. “Yes. Quite right. Now … let's talk about your future.”