The hall felt smaller today. Shadows clung to the walls more tightly, and the air buzzed with tension. Lyra's pulse quickened. She had faced souls of cruelty, regret, and deceit. She had learned that fear came in many forms.But none had prepared her for this.The door at the far end of the hall creaked open, and a figure burst through. He was young, barely more than a boy by his appearance, yet every movement radiated danger. His hair was wild, eyes blazing with a reckless fire, and his clothes were torn and dirty, smeared with what might have been mud or blood.Lyra instinctively stepped back. She had learned to recognise the weight of presence — and this one pressed on her chest like a storm."Who are you?" Kaelen asked, his voice calm but cutting through the tension like a blade.The boy grinned, a crooked, feral smile, and his chest heaved with laughter. "Name's Riven," he said, voice high-pitched but full of energy. "Don't care about your rules. Don't care about your judgments.