Scene 1 — Crow POV
"Yeah, Huginn wanted me and Thomas to check in on her," I said into the phone, leaning against the hallway wall. "She's been practically mute since helping Mrs. Jessica. I'll update you when I head out."
Amber sighed on the other end. Even through the line, I could hear the weight she was carrying.
"Don't push her," Amber said. "Just… be there."
"I know," I replied, and ended the call.
I didn't knock.
Alexis' door slid open and the room swallowed the light behind me—not darkness from switched-off lamps, but darkness pulled inward, condensed. If I didn't have my own affinity, I might've missed her entirely.
She was buried under the covers. Still. Breathing shallow.
Thomas sat on the edge of the bed, posture straight, eyes locked on the blanket like he was guarding something fragile and dangerous at the same time.
"If it isn't my favorite lightbulb," I said lightly, stepping inside. "Tell me who we're kicking. Me and my baby-green monster sidekick are fully operational."
Nothing.
No flinch. No reaction.
So I did the thing that usually worked.
I sat on the bed and bounced once.
"Earth to Light. Houston, we've got a bulb out—"
A foot slammed into my ribs.
I hit the floor with a grunt, rolling just in time to see Alexis' face emerge from the covers. Her eyes were red—not hollow, not broken.
Angry.
"Quit being an asshole, Crow!"
There it was.
Thomas moved without comment, sliding into the spot I'd taken. He didn't touch her. Didn't lecture. Just sat—solid, present, unmoving.
Alexis didn't look at me again.
"You can go," she said quietly.
I hesitated.
"Don't steal my best friend," I muttered. Half joke. Half plea.
She didn't answer.
I backed out and let the door close behind me.
Scene 2 — Jessica POV
"What are you two doing here?"
I looked up from the files and found Alexis at the reception desk—Thomas a step behind her, close enough to intercept anything that tried to reach her.
Alexis was leading.
That alone told me something was wrong.
Her eyes were red. Not dramatic. Just… worn.
"Dad wanted me to pass a report to Grandpa," she said. "So I'm here to do that."
I raised an eyebrow—not because I sensed a lie.
Because I sensed a shield.
She still wore the audio-muting headphones from the session. Protected from sound. Not from sight.
She'd watched her mother thrash while Baldur and my husband held her down. Watched Crystal swing at ghosts, call old names, try to issue commands inside a sealed space where authority itself had turned hostile.
That kind of war fractures people fast.
I glanced at Thomas. He didn't explain. He didn't need to.
I turned to the receptionist.
"Buzz them in."
She hesitated—then complied.
The elevator light flashed green.
Alexis stepped inside without looking back. Thomas followed.
I gathered my files.
If she needed her grandfather to stay grounded, I wasn't going to be the one to stop her.
Scene 2B — The Giver
"You said who?"
The Giver leaned back, fingers pressing into the bridge of his nose.
"Odin," Alexis said. Her voice was steady now. Controlled. "Why does he matter? My mom keeps apologizing. Saying she should've stopped a woman named Sophie. Everyone treats that name differently."
The room went still.
"Sophie was my daughter," the Giver said. "And Odin was… almost my son-in-law. Before the Tears."
He opened a drawer and pulled out a pitch-black gourd. White flames curled lazily at its base.
"You won't find Sophie listed anywhere meaningful," he continued. "Her grave exists. It's empty."
Alexis didn't flinch—but her shoulders tightened.
"Why would that break my mom?"
"Madness usually comes from overload," he said, pouring three glasses. "Astral saturation. Taboos. Thinking too far ahead of proof. Lately, it's cults playing with names like they're harmless."
He slid one glass to Thomas. One to Alexis.
"Sophie and Odin belong to what we call the Missing Era," he said. "Crystal's journals. Locked. Then cast back into the Sea."
Alexis drank.
The effect was immediate. Her breathing slowed. Her posture settled—not relaxed, but aligned.
Thomas drank too. Awareness snapped into place behind his eyes.
"That was good," Alexis said quietly. "May I have more?"
The Giver blinked once—then tossed the entire gourd to Thomas.
"What did you mean by Missing Era?" Alexis asked.
"No," he said. "Before the inner circle existed as you know it."
He stared into his glass.
"If the Sea were under Earth's laws back then, Odin would've been charged with crimes that make history look gentle."
A tear welled. He wiped it away.
"And you still understood him," Alexis said.
"I did," he replied. "Because if someone dragged my people into a closed cycle… I'd have done the same."
Silence settled.
Alexis stood.
She didn't look broken.
She looked decided