They didn't wait long.
They never did.
The underground facility's security system registered the first anomaly at 06:18 a.m.
Not a breach.
Not an intrusion.
Arrivals.
Vehicles entered the perimeter one by one, credentials old enough to bypass automated suspicion but new enough to pass manual checks. Names that hadn't been used in years slid across screens without triggering alarms.
The system hesitated.
Then allowed them through.
Aria Feels It Before She Sees It
She stopped mid-step in the corridor.
Not because of sound.
Because the pressure changed.
Not hostile.
Not chaotic.
Familiar.
"…You came anyway," she murmured.
She closed her eyes once.
Just once.
Then straightened.
Noah Watches the Doors
From his bed, Noah heard footsteps.
Multiple.
Unhurried.
The kind of pace used by people who didn't need to rush because they knew exactly where they were going.
"…Oh no," he breathed.
"…You didn't."
The door slid open.
Not violently.
Not cautiously.
Respectfully.
One by One
The first man through the door was tall, broad-shouldered, hair touched with gray.
He took in Noah's condition in one glance.
"…You look like hell," he said mildly.
Noah laughed weakly.
"…You're still alive too."
The man snorted.
"Disappointing, isn't it?"
A woman followed.
Sharp eyes.
Soft smile.
She ignored Noah entirely and looked past him.
Toward the corridor.
"…She here?" she asked.
Noah nodded.
"…Yeah."
The woman exhaled.
"…Good."
The Corridor Reunion
They didn't announce themselves.
They didn't call out.
They simply walked down the corridor like they owned the place.
Like they remembered it.
Aria saw them before they reached her.
Six of them.
Seven.
Each one older.
Each one carrying themselves like time had never been allowed to dull them.
She stopped.
They stopped.
No one smiled.
Recognition Without Warmth
"…You got taller," one of them said finally.
Aria's mouth twitched.
"…You got slower."
A few of them laughed.
Then stopped.
Because this wasn't casual.
This wasn't friendly.
This was verification.
No Apologies, No Excuses
Another voice spoke.
"You should've stayed gone."
Aria met his gaze.
"I tried."
That was all she said.
That was enough.
The Weight of Presence
They spread out instinctively.
Not surrounding her.
Accounting for space.
Old habits.
"…You're really back," someone said quietly.
Aria shook her head.
"No," she replied.
"You're just late."
Noah Finally Sees It
From down the corridor, Noah watched them face each other.
Something in his chest loosened.
They weren't here to take her.
They weren't here to question her.
They were here to see.
And seeing—
Meant remembering.
The Last Line of the Act
One of them tilted his head, studying her like a problem that had never been solved.
"…So," he said slowly,
"what now, Big Sis?"
Aria exhaled.
Long.
Controlled.
"…Now?" she replied.
"Now you stand where I tell you."
Silence fell.
Then—without argument, without hesitation—
They did.
Because whatever had changed—
Whatever she had buried—
One truth remained unchallenged.
She was still the axis.
And the past had finally caught up—
Not to chase her.
But to take its place behind her.