The man's hands were still raised.
That didn't mean anything.
Aria didn't look at him.
Didn't look at the corridor.
Didn't even look at herself.
Her focus snapped back to Noah the instant his breathing changed.
Too shallow.
Too fast.
"…Not now," she said quietly.
Instinct Beats Exposure
Noah's body sagged harder against the wall.
Blood had soaked through his shirt, dark and warm under her palm.
Shock was setting in.
Aria moved without pausing to consider who was watching.
She knelt.
Pressed hard against his ribs.
"No," Noah muttered weakly.
"…Don't—"
"Shut up," she said.
"Breathe when I tell you."
The command slipped out clean.
Automatic.
Old.
He obeyed without thinking.
That was how deep it went.
The Watching Eyes Learn Something New
The man in the corridor watched closely.
Not with surprise.
With interest.
"You see?" he murmured to someone behind him.
"She still defaults to protection."
Aria didn't look up.
Didn't respond.
Her fingers moved with brutal precision.
Pressure.
Angle.
Timing.
She adjusted Noah's position, ignoring the grunt of pain it tore from him.
"…You're not allowed to die," she said flatly.
"…Not after you dragged me back."
Noah Feels the Old World Return
Pain sharpened his focus.
The haze cleared just enough.
He recognized the tone.
Not concern.
Responsibility.
"…You're back," he whispered.
She didn't answer.
Because she hadn't left.
She had only been quiet.
The Man Tests Her Again
"Impressive," the man said casually.
"You always were efficient under pressure."
Aria finally looked up.
One glance.
Enough.
"If you finish that sentence," she said,
"I will put you on the floor and continue working around your body."
The corridor went very still.
Someone shifted their weight.
Someone else stopped breathing too loudly.
The man smiled thinly.
"…Duly noted."
Why She Doesn't Care Who's Watching
Because Noah coughed again.
Harder.
Blood flecked his lips.
Aria's jaw tightened.
"…Focus," she told herself.
This wasn't a confrontation.
This was triage.
The rest could burn.
She Makes a Decision
She looked up again.
"You," she said to the man.
"You have a vehicle?"
"Yes."
"Good," she replied.
"You're driving."
No question.
No negotiation.
The man blinked.
Then laughed once.
"…You're not in a position to give orders."
Aria rose to her feet.
Fast.
Too fast.
She stepped into his space.
The smile vanished.
"You don't get to decide that," she said softly.
"You want him alive?"
The man hesitated.
"…Yes."
"Then move."
The Corridor Shifts
They moved.
Doors opened.
Commands passed quietly.
No sirens.
No shouting.
No resistance.
Because something older than rank had reasserted itself.
Noah Understands Too Late
As they lifted him, Noah caught her wrist.
Weak.
Desperate.
"…You didn't think," he said.
She squeezed his hand once.
Hard.
"Wrong," she replied.
"I just didn't hesitate."
Closing Beat
They rolled him into the back of a dark vehicle.
Aria climbed in beside him without looking back.
The door closed.
The city receded.
The man took the driver's seat.
Checked the mirror.
Met her eyes.
"…You haven't changed," he said quietly.
Aria stared straight ahead.
"I have," she replied.
"That's why he's alive."
And as the vehicle pulled into traffic, one truth became unavoidable:
The test was over.
The mask was gone.
And from this moment on—
Every move she made would be remembered.