A fox trotted past, unbothered by the two figures at the treeline. One ordinary. One anything but.

Melody stood at the edge of the clearing, her dark hair stirring in the breeze. The seal had broken only a day ago.

Her hands were still raw from it. Fingers curled, nails biting into her own palm.

She could feel them. All of them. The Demon Child’s fury. The Fairy King’s sorrow. The giantess’s warmth. The witch’s ancient stillness. And him. Meliodas, laughing like he hadn’t spent three thousand years clawing at the edges of her prison.

Her chest tightened.

A figure leaned against the Boar Hat’s outer wall, arms crossed, half in shadow. Silver hair caught the last light. A bottle dangled from one hand.

Ban didn’t move. Didn’t look away. Just watched her like he already knew the weight she carried.