((Sed half or more will release ter tonight))

  'I remember why I don't like certs,' Orion thought, grumbling to himself as he stood before a crowd of people cheering and screaming at deafening volumes.

  The previous day, during dihere lenty of talk about musid instruments. Orion, however, didn't know anything. He tried asking questions, but most of it went over his head.

  The whole time, Seraphine and Kieran had been staring at him, whily added to his disfort. His mask was off to eat, and he figured that might have something to do with it.

  "Hey, wait, aren't you-" Seraphine had started to ask, but Kieran cleared his throat, shaking his head.

  Seraphine looked at her father, fused. Orion, equally fused, asked, "Aren't I what?"

  There was a brief pause before Kieran spoke.

  "Have you walked along the main road since you've returned," he asked.

  "No, not really. Outside of crossing it or walking with you."

  Seraphiabbed at her food, frowning as her gre fixed on Orion.

  "You'll find out tomorrow," she said, her voice restrained but heavy with accusation. "Trying t harmony became so much harder because of you!"

  "What did I do?" Orion asked, genuinely fused.

  "That's enough," Kieran interjected with a weary sigh. "You'll find out tomorrow. For now, let's enjoy our meal."

  It probably didn't go the way Kieran had envisioned. His face carried subtle traces of disappoi, but the day, Orion uood why Seraphine was so agitated with him after seeing his face.

  At the heart of the main road, standing amidst the bustling crowd, was a statue about the size of a grown man. It depicted a boy running, his jacket fring out as if caught in a gust of wind. His face wore a defiant smirk, ohat seemed to mock the onlookers surrounding him.

  Orion froze and facepalmed his mask. His stomach ed as he stared at the statue, ging. Disbelief and irritatio him.

  'What the fuck?' Orion groaned inwardly, leaning in to read the pcard. 'The Soul of Zaun'

  His thoughts spiraled as he exhaled sharply. 'Don't I get a fug say? Guess not. I suppose being dead means forfeiting your opinion.' Orion exhaled sharply. 'Zaun... This reeks of Silco. Or... could Vander have ged after all?'

  The worst thing was how detailed the statue was. It captured many of his features, so the question came up as to why Zarkon, or any of those thugs, didn't say anything.

  'I guess they weren't staring at me as hard as Seraphine was...' Orion mused.

  Further down the road, another fresh statue caught Orion's eye. It was a statue of Benzo.

  Benzo's haed on his stomach, the other holding a tankard as though mid-toast. His face was beaming with a joyful grin, a warm and familiar presence.

  'This was Vander's doing,' Orion thought with certainty, a small chuckle esg him. His gaze lingered, a warm feeling and a stark trast to the disfort he felt a moment ago.

  'It feels nice, I suppose,' Orion thought softly as he began walking again, a gentle warmth lingering in his chest. 'Most people wonder if they'll be remembered at all, rather than just another corpse in the ground...'

  Gehoughts tugged at his mind bringing a sense of warmth. But alongside them came twinges of guilt like a quiet reminder- he wasn't actually dead.

  His thoughts swirled with iy, caught between the fort of being remembered and the guilt of living without them knowing.

  Soon, however, the deafening roar of a cert filled the streets. A street was transformed into a stage, and people were from all around- topside and uy- to listen.

  Orion blinked, gaze sweeping over the boisterous, chaotic crowd, before letting out a resigned sigh.

  'I remember why I don't like certs.'