The bridge of light brought them back.
But the Command Base did not receive them as before.
—
As Kael and the witches crossed the portal, they felt a subtle resistance — as if the very space hesitated to accept them.
The air was heavier.
The walls seemed darker.
And deep within the main hall, the symbol of the League... flickered faintly, as if threatening to vanish.
—
Otrho was the first to speak:
— They know what we did.
Kael nodded.
— They know. And now they must decide if we are still theirs.
—
Helena glanced around, alert.
— The Base feels alive... restless.
— It's not the Base, — Nikita corrected. — It's the League itself that's in conflict.
—
During their first day back, there were no messages.
No new commands.
No jumps.
Only silence.
A silence more dangerous than any battle.
—
That night, Kael climbed to the rooftop of the Base.
He lit a cigarette, staring into the stagnant sky.
He felt the witches gather behind him, one by one.
No one spoke.
Together, they understood:
They had crossed an invisible line.
They were no longer just agents of the League.
Now, they were survivors of something the League feared to remember.
—
Kael turned to them.
His gaze was firm, calm — but not blind.
— If anyone wishes to leave, this is the moment.
— From now on, what we face will be greater than any contract.
The witches, without hesitation, stayed.
Otrho smirked slightly.
— You still underestimate what you've built here.
Kael exhaled slowly.
— Then so be it.
He looked back at the sky.
— Let them come.
And in the silence between worlds, Stone and Mist prepared themselves for what was to come.