My Food Stall Serves SSS-Grade Delicacies!

It wasn't her imagination, because it happened again. Elena's hand went translucent for a moment, like someone sketched her hand in chalk and then smudged the lines. She gasped and clutched her wrist in disbelief.

"M–my hand..." Another flicker, stronger this time, and her whole arm seemed to waver, fading between flesh and nothing.

Marron's heart lurched. "Don't move, keep calm..." hoping in her heart of hearts that Elena would stabilize.

Across from her, the Lieutenant swayed. He didn't gasp or stumble, but his shoulders shimmered in and out of existence, like he was half a memory. His expression remained calm, but Marron saw the truth in the set of his jaw: he knew exactly what was happening.

"The dungeon's gone," he said, voice low. "Its magic sustained us. Now…" He let the words trail off, unfinished.

Now you're dying. Marron bit her lip so hard she tasted copper.

Elena shook her head violently, eyes wide. "No. No, I just found out I'm real—I can't—" She grabbed at Marron's sleeve with fingers that weren't all the way solid. "Don't let me disappear. Please."

Marron's hands trembled as she tried to steady Elena. She'd faced down ants bigger than wagons, mimics with too many teeth, even the Captain's sneer—but nothing terrified her like watching someone fade out of existence in front of her.

Something sharp pressed against her hip. The bone shard. It pulsed with sudden heat, almost searing through her apron pocket. Marron yanked it out and hissed. The little splinter of pale bone glowed faintly, as if it had been waiting for this moment.

The Lieutenant's eyes snapped to it. "The shard…" For the first time, his calm cracked. His voice caught on the edge of urgency. "That's…mine. It carries me."

Marron stared down at it. This scrap of bone had been a tracker, a protection token, a communicator.

It had pulsed with his thoughts, carried warnings, even shared his first taste of happiness. She understood suddenly, bone-deep: it wasn't just a tool. It was a piece of him.

And it was burning her hand like it wanted to act.

Am I really pinning all of their hopes into this one bone shard?

But then Marron remembered all of the days when the smallest of reasons was enough to stay alive. So she turned to him, her throat dry. "Do you think...since the bone shard carries a part of you, it can hold you? Like...let you stay here?"

His gaze didn't waver. "Maybe? Only one way to find out."

She looked at Grandmaster Halloway, who grabbed the object and pressed it against the Lieutenant's chest.

"I do this because you helped us seal the dungeon," he said curtly. "nothing else."

The glow flared, white-hot, spilling across her fingers and up her arm. She nearly dropped it, but his hand shot out—half-faded, but strong enough to close over hers.

Light surged between the Lieutenant and the Grandmaster. But instead of a passionate blaze, it was steady. Like the oven at her mother's diner during the cold months.

Marron felt some of her cart's power flow toward the bone shard in the Grandmaster's hand. It was full of her stubborn refusal to help anyone who needed her. This time, it wasn't stolen--instead, it was shared.

And the small bone shard accepted it without breaking. Instead, it started flickering away, and a small medal was pinned over the Lieutenant's left breast pocket.

His body started stabilizing, and color flowed into his pale cheeks.

The Lieutenant's grip steadied over his sword, sheathed against his hip. He wanted to hold onto something to steady him.

At the same time, Elena let out a ragged cry. Her outline shimmered wildly—then snapped back into solidity. She clung to the Lieutenant's arm, her breath coming fast. "I—I can feel it. Through you. Through him."

Marron sagged in relief, every muscle trembling. It had worked. Somehow, against every sane law of magic, it had worked. The medal over the Lieutenant's heart was shiny and had the shard engraved on it--one last gift for him.

Silence fell and everyone just stared.

Mokko with wide, wet eyes.

Lucy with sharp disbelief.

Even Halloway had a tight-lipped frown, but said evenly, "Glad it worked. Now leave my guild alone." He was still trying to control himself and his words.

Unlike the Captain.

The Lieutenant looked down at his hands, flexed them slowly.

There was no flickering or fading. He breathed deeply, and let out a choked laugh. "Still here."

Elena collapsed against him, half-sobbing, half-laughing. "We're still here."

Marron wiped her sleeve across her forehead, smearing sweat and tears together. Her chest ached with the afterburn of giving too much, but she managed a shaky smile. "Told you. Not disappearing on my watch."

The Lieutenant looked at her--really looked, like he wanted to memorize her face.

For the first time since she'd met him, his winter-colored eyes weren't iced over. Instead, they were searching for some emotion.

He looked so human.

"Marron," he said quietly. "You gave me more than survival. You gave me…choice. That's something I never had."

She swallowed the lump in her throat. "Then maybe it's time you had something else you never had."

His brow furrowed. "What's that?"

"A name."

He blinked at her, thrown off-guard by the simplicity of it.

"You've been 'the Lieutenant' because the Captain said so," Marron went on, voice steadier now. "But you're not his anymore. You're not the dungeon's anymore. You deserve a name."

He tilted his head slightly, as if testing the weight of the idea. "And you would choose one for me?"

Marron thought of all the ways he had stood against cruelty, even when it cost him.

Of the way he'd accepted cupcakes like they were sacred.

He let her anchor him with trust instead of fear. She smiled, small but certain.

"Alexander," she said. "It means defender. Feels right for you."

He repeated it under his breath, as if tasting the flavor. "Alexander." His lips curved awkwardly, trying to get used to the name. But it was a smile all the same.

"It feels right to me."

Elena squeezed his arm, still shaking. "Alexander." She tried the word too, and it steadied her.

Halloway cleared his throat, breaking the fragile hush. "Names or no, what you've done shouldn't be possible." His eyes flicked to Marron. "You've bound them to your magic. To you."

Marron straightened, even though her knees still felt weak. "Then they're anchored. Not the dungeon's problem anymore."

Halloway studied her a moment longer, then gave a curt nod. "So it seems."

Mokko lumbered forward, eyes bright. "Alexander." He tried the name like a toast. "Strong. I like it."

Lucy smirked, though her voice was softer than usual. "Better than 'Lieutenant.' Less likely to confuse when Marron starts yelling orders."

Marron laughed, and the sound came out half-choked but real. She reached out and squeezed Alexander's arm. "Welcome back. To life. To…you."

He placed his hand over hers, gentle and strong. No sign of flickering or fading anytime soon.

And for the first time, Marron believed they could walk out of this dungeon as something more than survivors.

Good luck, Alexander. Sometimes rebuilding is much harder than just dying, but...more fulfilling, too.