The sanctuary took time to stabilize.
After the brutal silence imposed by Daniella, the light returned slowly, as if the rock itself hesitated to come back to life. The crystals ceased violent pulsing, adopting a dim, almost fatigued glow.
No one spoke.
Daniella sat against the wall, knees drawn to her chest. She now breathed normally, but her gaze remained empty, fixed on a point that didn't exist.
Kaël stood at a distance. Not by choice. By necessity.
He felt the link—or rather its absence. A phantom sensation, like a limb no longer there but whose pain persisted. He had instinctively tried to approach it… and his body had reacted before his will. A sudden vertigo. A dull pressure in his head.
Then he stopped. And it terrified him.
— She should sleep, Terra finally said, voice low.
Nyx nodded. — The aftershock isn't over. It can last hours. Days.
— Or leave traces, Pyra added.
No one asked which ones.
Lina approached Daniella slowly. She hesitated, then sat beside her without touching.
— Do you… still see me? she asked.
The question seemed to surprise Daniella. She blinked, then turned toward the girl.
— Yes.
Lina breathed, relieved. — Then it's okay.
No one corrected that lie.
They gradually dispersed. Not to plan a strategy. Not to organize a counterattack. Just… to exist somewhere other than this room.
Pyra left the circle first. She hit the rock wall with her fist once out of sight, letting out a harsh breath.
— Damn…
Aeris joined a few seconds later. — It's not your fault.
Pyra laughed briefly. — Of course it is. We knew HÉLIOS would adapt. And we charged anyway.
Aeris lowered her eyes. — If we had done nothing, Lina would still be there.
— And now? Pyra replied. Now Daniella is cut in two.
A silence.
— Did you notice? Pyra continued softly. We speak of her as if she's not here.
Aeris clenched his teeth. — Because if we start talking about her in front of her… I'll say things I can't take back.
Terra stayed near the sanctuary entrance. He observed the ancient mechanisms, the new fissures in the rock.
— The sanctuary is compromised, he told Nyx when she joined him.
— Not destroyed.
— No. But weakened. Like her.
Nyx didn't reply immediately.
— Tell me something, Terra. If the link never returns… what changes?
He thought. — Strategically? A lot. Symbolically? Even more.
— And humanly?
Terra turned toward Daniella, far away. — Then we'll have to stop treating her as a center… and start treating her as a person.
Nyx gave a sad smile. — Maybe that's the real break.
Kaël hadn't moved. He stood exactly where the link had gone out. He closed his eyes. Nothing. No warmth. No echo. Not even the constant tension he'd grown used to. Only him.
He opened his eyes, throat tight.
— I don't know how to do this without her, he murmured.
No voice answered.
But someone was watching. From afar. Quietly. And noted the phrase.
Later, when Daniella finally stood, it was without announcement. She walked slowly to the center of the sanctuary, then stopped.
— We're going to change some things, she said.
Everyone turned to her. Her voice was calm. Too calm.
— From now on, I won't make decisions alone.
Pyra frowned. — Since when?
— Since my choices began to cost more than I can pay alone.
No one protested.
— We'll slow down, she continued. Fewer movements. Fewer instinctive reactions.
Aeris grimaced. — HÉLIOS won't let us breathe.
— Exactly, Daniella replied. If they still find us… then we'll know there's something else.
A silence.
— Something else? Terra repeated.
Daniella hesitated. — Escape. Luck. Or…
She didn't finish.
But far away, a discreet transmission had just ended. Not a clear message. Not exploitable data alone. Just confirmation. They're slowing down.
Elias Korr looked up from the screen.
— Interesting, he murmured.
— An anomaly? a technician asked.
— No. A human reaction.
He leaned forward. — Keep contact. Without pressure.
An almost imperceptible smile appeared. — Cracks always appear when you think you're safe.
Back at the sanctuary, Lina approached Daniella.
— Are you okay?
Daniella replied after a moment. — No.
Lina nodded. — Okay.
Then, more softly: — You know… sometimes, the scariest thing isn't being followed.
Daniella looked at her.
— It's not knowing who walks beside you.
Daniella shivered. For the first time since the beginning, she wondered…
…if the silence she had created hadn't also opened a door she couldn't control.