It was strange how heavy peace could feel.
Jay had always imagined that, if he ever pulled himself back together, if he ever confronted the fragmented version of himself that had been screaming into the void… it would feel like triumph.
But instead, it was silence.
And Alicia's hand.
Warm. Steady. Not letting go.
He wasn't sure what he expected her to say. Some noble speech? Some quiet forgiveness wrapped in light and duty? That was the Alicia everyone thought they knew.
But not the Alicia he'd just seen.
She didn't pity him. She didn't rush to fix him.
She stood there.
Afraid. Angry. Real.
Like she'd been holding a breath for too long and finally decided to exhale in front of him. No mask. No role. Just her.
And that did something to him.
Not the System. Not the Observer. Not the past.
Her.
It made him remember that he chose this path.
Not because he wanted to be a hero.
Not because he wanted to prove the voices wrong.
But because he didn't want to disappear.
