Charon remained still as Jasmine processed the weight of the gift he had given her. He watched the subtle shifts in her expression—the awe, the uncertainty, the questions that lingered just beneath the surface. He didn’t need to say anything in response to her quiet thank you; her understanding of what he had bestowed was already forming. The connection between them, faint but undeniable, was there now, a quiet thread that would pull her toward him if the need ever arose. He felt it too, but he didn’t dwell on it. This wasn’t about forming bonds of obligation, but about offering her something that would help her navigate the burdens she carried.

When she looked up at him, her widened eyes catching the strange, fractured nature of his aura, Charon gave a small, knowing nod. He could sense the way she was perceiving him now—how different he was from everything else around her. Where others’ energy flowed and bent, his stood almost still, cracked and ancient, as if it had been shaped by time itself. She was beginning to understand just how old he was, though the full truth of that realization would take time. He saw no reason to explain further. She could feel it—he was not like the others she dealt with.

As she stood, her thanks came quietly, and Charon accepted it with the same calm he always carried. When she mentioned knowing where to find him, he offered her a slight smile, more in his eyes than on his lips. “Good,” he replied simply, his voice low but filled with a quiet certainty. “You’ll know when the time is right.”

The buzzing in her pocket drew her attention away, and Charon remained where he was, watching as she received the message. Relief washed over her as she learned the angel born were secure, and he nodded in approval at the calm that settled into her features. Her work wasn’t done—far from it—but for now, this immediate crisis had been handled. When she invited him to join her at the Knights’ headquarters, Charon tilted his head slightly, considering her offer.

“I walk a different path,” he said softly, his eyes lingering on the van as it pulled up. “But should our paths cross again, I’ll find you.” There was no dismissal in his tone, just the acceptance of their different roles. He didn’t belong with the knights, but he respected her enough to leave the door open for future encounters.

As the van arrived and the knight took Jasmine’s arm to guide her, Charon remained a steady presence until she was safely seated. When she called out to him one last time, extending the invitation once more, he gave a small nod, though he did not follow. The van door closed, and Charon watched it roll away into the distance. His aura, now lingering as a quiet residue in her being, would continue to guide her. She had been given a new way to see the world, a deeper understanding of the energy that flowed around her. It would serve her well, though Charon knew it would take time for her to fully master it.

As Jasmine turned her attention to Aliana, tending to the young angel born with the sigil and prayer, Charon allowed himself a brief moment of satisfaction. She was strong—stronger than she gave herself credit for. This new sight would help her, not just in battles, but in moments like this, where understanding the flow of energy could make the difference between success and catastrophe.

Watching her recede into the distance, Charon’s presence in the world seemed to fade back into the background, as it always did. He would continue to move through the currents of entropy, observing, guiding when necessary, but always from a distance. His gift to Jasmine wasn’t just about helping her in the here and now—it was about ensuring she had the tools to see the world for what it truly was. And in the moments that mattered, he knew she would use that vision to make the right choices.

With a final glance in the direction of the van, Charon turned and slipped back into the flow of the city, his presence lingering only in the faintest traces, always just out of sight but never entirely gone. He had given her what she needed, and that was enough—for now.