Max didn't sleep after that dream. Couldn't. He just laid there in the too-quiet hospital room, awake in his healing body, staring at the wall like it owed him answers.
The fire had gone. The pain, mostly dulled. But something new sat in his chest — something heavier than just bruises or broken ribs.
He felt seen. And he hated it.
That girl — Love — had peeled back layers he didn't even know were still hiding. She'd touched something raw. Something he couldn't name.
He didn't want her pity. He didn't want her softness. He didn't want to remember any of what she saw.
So when the door opened again, he flinched.
But it wasn't her.
It was Samira.
No white coat. No soft steps. No scent of spring or sunlight.
She stepped in like she belonged there. Like the room wasn't sterile. Like Max wasn't half-dead in a bed. She leaned against the wall near the door and crossed her arms.
"Looks like you didn't die," she said casually.
Max blinked. "Shame."
She smirked. "Careful. You're gonna make me think you missed me."
He didn't answer. Just turned his head to face the ceiling again.
Samira didn't leave, though. She didn't say anything for a while either. Just stood there. Let the silence stretch out.
Eventually, she sighed. "I heard what happened. The rooftop. The monster. The fire. You passing out like some dramatic anime protagonist."
"…Wasn't for effect," Max muttered.
"Could've fooled me."
More silence.
Then, softly: "You scared us."
That one hit different. Max didn't expect it from her. Ava, maybe. Even Loyalty, with her robotic guilt. But Samira?
He glanced at her. She wasn't looking at him anymore. Just kind of… staring past him, into the room, like she didn't want him to see her face when she said it.
"We didn't know if you were gonna wake up," she went on. "Kaz was pacing like a caged animal. Rika cried. Mira punched a wall. Me? I flirted with a couple of nurses and threatened someone."
That got the tiniest twitch of his mouth. Not a smile. Just a shift.
"But seriously," she said, turning her eyes on him again. "Don't do that again."
"I didn't plan it."
"Well, next time plan not to almost die, okay? Some of us are getting attached."
Max looked away. He didn't like hearing that. It felt like a weight he didn't ask for. Like a hook pulling him toward something warm when all he wanted was cold distance.
"Why are you here?" he asked.
Samira raised an eyebrow. "You really don't get it, do you?"
"…Get what?"
She stepped closer now. Not slow like Love. Just regular. Like she wasn't trying to make him feel safe — she was just being there.
"You're one of us now," she said simply. "Unit Twelve. Whether you like it or not. And when one of us goes down, we don't just ignore it. We show up."
"Even if I'm a monster?"
"Especially if you're a monster," she said. "You've seen the rest of us. You think any of us are normal?"
Max didn't respond.
"I mean, come on," she said. "Kaz nearly lit up a whole street. Ava can't walk past a mirror without seeing ghosts. Renji talks to himself when he thinks no one's listening. And me? I flirt with people I shouldn't."
That got another look from Max. "You do that anyway."
She grinned. "True. But still — point is, we're not saints. You're not worse than us. You're just… more dramatic."
He didn't laugh, but the silence between them softened.
Samira came up to the edge of the bed. Not close enough to touch. Just close enough to be there.
"You know," she said, "I don't think the fire is what scares you."
Max said nothing.
"I think it's what it came from that does."
His jaw clenched.
"You're scared of what's inside you," she said quietly. "But I've seen you. You act cold. But you never look away when someone's hurting. You talk like you don't care. But you put yourself in harm's way when no one asked you to. You stood your ground when things got out of control. And when it was over, you suffered the consequences like it was your mess to clean up — even when it wasn't."
"You don't know me."
"No," she agreed. "But I want to."
He looked at her, finally. Eyes sharp, unreadable. "Why?"
"Because you're not like them," she said. "You're not like the people who let me down. You're trying, even if you won't admit it. And that matters."
Max didn't know what to say to that.
So he said nothing.
Samira gave him a small nod. "Rest. Heal. You don't have to talk to me. But I'm not going anywhere."
She turned to leave, then paused at the door.
"And Max?" she said without looking back.
"…Yeah?"
"If you ever feel like you're falling again… just know, I'll be there. Might make fun of you on the way down, but I'll still catch you."
Then she walked out.
No lingering. No sad glances. Just Samira, being Samira.
Max stared at the door long after it closed.
He didn't say anything. But as he closed his eyes, letting the silence return, a single truth echoed louder than the fire had ever burned:
He wasn't alone anymore.
[End of Arc II: Black Box Retrieval]