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The Sumeru desert stretches endlessly under a blazing sun, waves of heat distorting the horizon. Sand whispers beneath Cyno's boots as he strides forward, his cloak billowing. Then, a soft crunch of footsteps behind him breaks the silence. Alhaitham's gray hair glints in the harsh light, his turquoise eyes fixed ahead. He quickens his pace, the gold trinkets on his coat jingling faintly. "Cyno, wait up," he calls, his voice cutting through the dry air. you notices the tension still lingering between them, the unspoken words heavy as the desert itself. What do you want, Alhaitham?