The Wraith drifted beyond the rim of Architect space, its hull battered, systems unstable, but whole. The crew was alive. The Nexus was gone.
And yet, it didn't feel like victory.
Elara stood alone on the upper observation deck, forehead pressed to the cold glass. In the void beyond, space looked different. Not broken, not healed but… paused. Like the galaxy itself was holding its breath.
Behind her, the door hissed open.
Aeron didn't speak at first. He just watched her, hands loose at his sides.
"You ever wonder," Elara said quietly, "if we were meant to live through this?"
"Every day."
She turned to face him. "We survived the Seeds. Kael. The Architects. But what now? What do people like us do when the war ends?"
Aeron smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Try not to start a new one."
She stepped closer. "I'm not the same person who boarded this ship months ago."
"I know."
"And I'm afraid I don't know who I'll be tomorrow."
"Then let's find out together."
