Aerenyx did not move.
It was like the entire world had frozen in the space of a single heartbeat.
The instant her eyes found his, something ancient inside him completed itself—not awakening, not remembering, but returning. A realignment so precise it felt less like motion and more like inevitability catching up with him.
He didn't feel it the first time he emerged from Elias', taking over his body. But he felt it now.
But as much as his entire existence had changed, the room he was in continued exactly as it had been before.
Lights hummed. Monitors blinked. Human voices murmured in anticipation. The machinery breathed in its patient, mechanical rhythm. Nothing faltered. Nothing hesitated.
Only Aerenyx changed.
The sensation did not strike like lightning or fire. It settled instead, heavy and absolute, like gravity asserting its claim after a long suspension. Something fundamental slid into place, locking with a certainty that required no thought.
