They left the observatory before dawn.
Not because they wanted to—but because the mountain no longer felt empty.
Kaito lay across the back seat of the van, wrapped in blankets Mirei had scavenged from an emergency cache. His breathing was steady now, shallow but controlled. The bleeding from his left eye had stopped hours earlier, leaving behind a dark stain that no amount of wiping seemed to fully erase.
Ren drove.
Silent.
Focused.
The road wound downward through fog-soaked trees, headlights cutting narrow tunnels through the mist. Every few minutes, Ren checked the mirrors—not out of paranoia, but calculation.
— We were heard, he said finally.
No one asked who.
Jun swallowed.
— How bad?
Ren's jaw tightened.
— Bad enough that staying still would be worse.
Haneul glanced at Kaito, fingers hovering uncertainly near his shoulder.
— He didn't just trigger something… did he?
Ren shook his head once.
— He answered something.
The words settled heavy in the van.
Kaito stirred as the city came back into view.
Not awake.
Not asleep.
His right eye fluttered open briefly, unfocused.
— …don't close it…, he murmured.
Jun leaned forward instantly.
— Kaito? Hey—hey, we're here.
Kaito's brow furrowed.
— If it closes… it moves.
Ren glanced back sharply.
— What moves?
Kaito's lips parted, but the words slipped away. His breathing quickened, then steadied again.
Mirei cursed softly.
— He's still halfway in.
— That's dangerous, Ren said.— He shouldn't linger between states.
— You did this, Jun snapped, then immediately recoiled.— I—I didn't mean—
Ren didn't react.
— No, he said calmly.— The network did.
Jun clenched his fists.
— Then why does it feel like it's him paying for it?
No one answered.
They reached an old industrial district just as the sun began to rise—a place Ren trusted because no one important bothered watching it anymore. Warehouses loomed like sleeping giants, their windows broken, their doors rusted shut.
Ren parked inside a hollowed-out loading bay and cut the engine.
The silence was immediate.
Oppressive.
— We wait here, Ren said.— Until he wakes fully.
Ryuji positioned himself near the entrance, katana resting against his shoulder.
— And if someone shows up?
Ren met his gaze.
— Then we'll know we waited too long.
Kaito woke an hour later.
Violently.
He bolted upright with a sharp cry, clutching his head as pain lanced through his skull. Haneul barely managed to catch him before he fell off the bench.
— Easy! Easy—!
Kaito's breathing was ragged, panicked.
— It's loud…, he gasped.— Everything's… loud.
Ren approached slowly, kneeling until he was level with Kaito's face.
— Don't open your left eye, Ren said firmly.— Not yet.
Kaito laughed weakly.
— I can't even feel it.
That worried Ren more than panic would have.
Mirei checked his vitals quickly.
— Heart rate's elevated.— Neurological response… inconsistent.
Jun hovered nearby, useless hands clenched tight.
— Is he—?
— He's alive, Ren cut in.— And that's already more than expected.
Kaito swallowed.
— I saw… files.
Ren froze.
— What?
— Not images, Kaito continued, voice hoarse.— Not memories.— Records.
Mirei straightened sharply.
— You're sure?
Kaito nodded.
— Fragments.— Names cut off.— Locations redacted.
He winced, gripping Haneul's sleeve.
— Someone didn't want them erased.
The air felt colder.
Ren stood slowly.
— That confirms it.
Ryuji turned.
— Confirms what?
Ren looked toward the distant skyline.
— There are archives.— Physical ones.
Jun frowned.
— Why physical?
— Because some things are too dangerous to digitize, Ren replied.— Especially when Zeros exist.
Mirei's eyes widened.
— The Association.
Ren didn't deny it.
— Or what came before it.
A low hum filled the warehouse suddenly.
Subtle.
Easy to miss.
Ren's head snapped up instantly.
— Everyone stay still.
The hum faded as quickly as it came.
Jun's voice trembled.
— What was that?
Ren exhaled slowly.
— A sweep.— Passive, non-invasive.
— They found us?! Jun hissed.
Ren shook his head.
— No.
— They felt us.
Kaito groaned softly.
— They know I'm awake.
Ren met his gaze.
— Yes.
Silence followed.
Haneul tightened their grip on the chain.
— Then we don't have much time.
Ren nodded.
— No.
He turned to Mirei.
— Can you find it?
Mirei hesitated.
— The archive?
Ren nodded.
— The one they buried and pretended never existed.
Mirei's fingers flew across her device.
— There are… echoes.— Old infrastructure maps.— One location keeps reappearing.
She swallowed.
— Under the city.
Jun stiffened.
— Like… underground?
— Like forgotten, Mirei corrected.
Ren's eyes hardened.
— Then that's where we go.
Kaito leaned back against the wall, exhausted.
— Someone asked me for help, he whispered.
Jun stepped closer.
— Who?
Kaito closed his right eye briefly.
— I don't know.
He opened it again.
— But they're trapped… the same way I almost was.
Ren watched him carefully.
— That's how it starts, he said quietly.— First they call.
— And then?, Jun asked.
Ren didn't answer right away.
— Then they send someone to stop you from listening.
The words hung in the air.
Outside, the city began to wake.
Traffic resumed. Lights flickered on.
Life continued—unaware that something fundamental had shifted beneath it.
Ren slung Second Hand over his shoulder.
— We move tonight.
Ryuji nodded.
Haneul straightened.
Jun took a steadying breath.
Kaito wiped dried blood from his cheek.
— Next time…, he said softly,— I won't black out.
Ren met his gaze.
— That's what scares me.
The warehouse fell silent once more.
And deep below the city—
Old doors began to unlock.