The boy was gone.
Not defeated. Not banished. Just—absent. As though he'd never stood in front of at all. But the pain in my ribs, the blood in my mouth, the ringing in my skull—they rembered him.
I stood slowly. The station was still shifting, like it hadn't decided if it wanted to remain real.
A corridor to my left collapsed inward. The clock above it ticked once, then stopped.
I turned—no sign of the others.
"Clara?"
No answer.
I moved. The floor groaned. Dust scattered.
Then, a pulse.
Faint—like a breath.
I followed it.
***
She sat slumped beside one of the benches, hands around her knees. Her eyes were open, but unfocused. Like she was still inside whatever the fight she'd just survived.
"Clara."
She flinched.
"It's ," I said.
Her eyes t mine. Then she exhaled, slow, like she'd been holding her breath for days.
"I thought she knew ," she said. "She fought like she knew ."
"Who?"
Clara shook her head, "I don't know. But it wasn't a stranger."
She blinked rapidly, then stood. Her knees buckled. I caught her.
"I saw soone, too," I said.
She didn't ask who.
We stood together in silence.
Then Clara spoke again.
"She said sothing I can't rember now. But it felt... important. Like it was ant for , and alone."
"Do you rember how she looked?"
Clara's brow furrowed. "She was small. Almost fragile. But she moved like she'd waited a long ti."
The thread between us tightened. I didn't speak.
***
We found Konrad next.
He stood propped against a broken doorway, hands pressed to his side. Blood soaked the edge of his coat. But his eyes were alert.
"You alright?"
"I've had worse," he grunted.
He looked around.
"Erich?"
"Still missing," I said.
Konrad's hand reached behind him instinctively.
His rifle was gone.
He didn't speak. Just lowered his hand.
I stepped closer. "You dropped it?"
"No," Konrad said. "It was taken."
He looked at , and for the first ti since the station, I saw sothing in his face I hadn't seen before.
Fear.
***
We found Erich last.
He stumbled out of the east corridor. His shirt was torn. A bruise blood beneath his jaw.
He didn't look at us right away.
"I didn't know," he said.
"Know what?" Clara asked.
He shook his head. "Doesn't matter."
We stood there, the four of us in silence.
None of us said it. But the station hadn't just attacked us.
It had shown us sothing.
Then Helene appeared.
Not from a hallway. Not from a door.
She stepped out of shadow like she'd always been there.
Her coat was dusted with ash. A line of blood traced the edge of her collar. But she looked composed.
"You survived," she said softly.
"No thanks to you," Konrad muttered.
Helene smiled thinly. "I was trapped in the loop sa as you."
"Then how are you fine?" Erich asked.
Helene tilted her head. "Because I've seen this happen before."
She moved toward the bench.
"The station wasn't stable," she continued. "Soone tampered with a latent thread. Maybe Arbiter—"
She froze.
"What did you just say?" Clara asked.
Helene stood quiet.
Konrad's grip tightened. "You said a na."
Helene's expression twitched. Her calm slipped for the first ti.
Erich stood straighter. "Who is Arbiter?"
"I said NOTHING," Helene snapped.
The thread behind my ribs pulled tight.
Helene's breath caught. For a mont—just a flicker—her face contorted with sothing I hadn't seen before.
Panic.
Then she moved.
The air cracked. Ti flexed. She raised her hand—not to protect—but to strike.
A pulse erupted outward. Clara blocked it with a pulse of her own, staggering but holding.
Konrad charged. Erich reached for his thread.
I stepped—landing behind her.
She turned too fast.
We clashed.
For a brief second, I saw her clearly—not as Sage. Not as Helene.
But as sothing else.
Sothing older.
Sothing broken.
Then she vanished—light bending around her as if she had torn a hole in the mont itself.
She was gone.
We stood in the wreckage of what could have been our death.
And she had left us not in defeat—but in retreat.
I felt my journal calling to . I opened it.
No question this ti.
Just a new phrase, waiting.
She already pruned one.
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