(Jay and Alicia — Cracked Courtyard, Post-Integration)
The courtyard was quieter now.
No more floating debris. No more collapsing simulations. Just broken ground and a pale, silver sky—still stitched with faint lines of glitching code like healed wounds beneath translucent skin.
Jay sat on a half-destroyed bench. It used to be part of the academy's eastern wing, now severed and half-buried in what remained of the dream layer. He didn't speak. Not yet. His eyes were closed, as if listening to something far beyond sound.
Alicia stood a few paces away, arms crossed, her long hair catching the wind. She hadn't changed out of the uniform the system had forced on her during the simulation—a strange hybrid of combat and royalty, like it couldn't decide what she was supposed to be.
She stepped closer, finally breaking the silence.
Alicia:
"You're quieter than usual. That's dangerous coming from you."
