The headquarters had survived the war, but it had not remained untouched.
Its corridors resonated differently now — metal humming under unfamiliar frequencies, lights responding a heartbeat slower when the Awakened passed. The building was adapting, just as they were.
Tidal was already there when the others arrived, standing barefoot near the central water conduit, watching ripples form without him touching the surface. He frowned.
"…It listens now," he muttered.
Garuda's door slid open behind him.
"Careful," Garuda said, a faint grin tugging at his lips. "If you keep staring like that, it might start talking back."
Tidal glanced over his shoulder. "You joke, but I don't remember the ocean ever answering before."
Garuda stretched, shoulders rolling as if testing the limits of his reborn form. "That's the difference. Before, we asked. Now… we command."
The temperature rose slightly as Core entered the hall, his presence accompanied by a low, rhythmic hum — like a furnace breathing. He stopped when he noticed the moisture collecting on the walls.
"Huh," he said. "So it's not just me breaking things anymore."
Garuda laughed. "You literally came back from a star. I think the building can forgive you."
Core didn't smile. He looked at his hands instead, faint embers flickering beneath his skin. "I don't feel forgiven."
That silenced the room.
Omega arrived last, steps measured, lightning contained but ever-present — not wild, not restrained, simply there. He surveyed them with the calm of someone who had died and returned with clarity rather than awe.
"You're all unstable," Omega said.
Garuda blinked. "Wow. Good to see death didn't kill your charm."
Omega didn't rise to it. "I mean it literally. Your powers are still adjusting. So are your minds."
Tidal crossed his arms. "And you?"
Omega met his gaze. "I know exactly who I am."
Before anyone could answer that, a quieter presence drew their attention.
Prime stood near the far wall, watching them the way one watches a reflection — familiar, yet distant. He hadn't entered with force. The room hadn't reacted to him at all.
Garuda frowned. "You've been standing there the whole time?"
Prime nodded. "Didn't want to interrupt."
Tidal hesitated. "You didn't change."
It wasn't an accusation.
It was concern.
"No," Prime said. "I didn't."
Core tilted his head. "After everything you went through… how?"
Prime placed a hand against his chest.
For just a fraction of a second, the air buckled — shadows folding inward, energy collapsing instead of expanding. Something inside him shifted, then locked back into place.
"Exe," Prime said quietly. "Still contained."
Garuda's expression hardened. "You're still carrying it?"
"I have to."
Omega stepped forward. "That thing nearly ended everything."
"And if I let it go," Prime replied, meeting his eyes, "it will."
Tidal exhaled slowly. "So while we became weapons… you became a prison."
Prime didn't argue.
Core looked away. "That's not fair."
Prime shrugged. "Balance rarely is."
Garuda paced, wings flickering briefly into existence before vanishing again. "So what happens now? We sit around admiring our glow while the world rebuilds?"
Prime shook his head.
"No. Power like this doesn't exist in isolation."
Omega's jaw tightened. "You're saying something will answer us."
"Yes," Prime said. "Not corruption. Not madness. Something deliberate."
Tidal felt it then — a pressure in the deep currents of the world. "Opposition."
Prime nodded. "Opposites."
Silence stretched.
Core finally spoke. "Then whatever's coming… it won't see us as heroes."
Prime's voice was steady. "It won't see us as mistakes."
Everyone looked at him.
"It will see us," he finished, "as imbalances."
Far beneath the headquarters, containment seals tightened without command. Somewhere beyond the sky, unseen forces shifted — not in anger, but in recognition.
Garuda broke the tension with a slow breath. "Then we'd better make sure we're worth correcting."
No one disagreed.
Silence lingered after Prime's last words.
Garuda was the first to move, pacing slowly, claws clicking faintly against the floor. "Opposites," he muttered. "So the universe doesn't like us tipping the scales."
Omega's gaze stayed fixed on Prime. "You said they will answer us. How do you know?"
Prime hesitated.
That alone was answer enough.
He exhaled, shoulders lowering slightly, as if admitting something he'd been holding back since the Corruption ended.
"Because it already did," he said. "Through Exe."
Core stiffened. "That thing isn't an answer. It's a parasite."
"Maybe," Prime replied. "But it doesn't think so."
Tidal stepped closer, voice low. "What does it think, then?"
Prime looked down at his hand, fingers flexing once.
"It sees me as one of them," he said quietly. "An opposite."
Everyone froze.
"It merged with me," Prime continued. "Not forced. Not accidental. It chose me. Said I was worthy to fuse with." His jaw tightened. "I don't know if it's lying."
For a heartbeat, nothing happened.
Then Prime's hand twitched.
The skin along his palm rippled, folding inward like liquid shadow. Bone shifted. Flesh stretched. A jagged mouth tore itself open across his hand, lined with serrated, asymmetrical teeth. A single, unblinking eye formed above it.
Garuda swore under his breath and half-stepped back. Core's heat spiked instinctively. Omega didn't move — but lightning crawled along his arms.
The mouth screamed, not in pain, but in irritation.
"WHEN will you accept the harsh reality—"
The voice was layered, overlapping itself, echoing too close to the ear.
"—that I am a part of you now?"
Prime didn't pull away.
Exe's eye rolled, focusing on each of them in turn.
"I needed a vessel. A worthy one. Someone who wouldn't shatter the moment I breathed inside them."
The mouth stretched wider, almost smiling.
"And look at you, Prime. You survived me."
Tidal clenched his fists. "You used him."
"Of course," Exe replied cheerfully. "And in return—"
The shadowed flesh crawled up Prime's arm, briefly forming a distorted silhouette of another body layered over his own.
"—I give him my form. My knowledge. My survival."
Omega's voice cut through, cold. "At what cost?"
Exe laughed — a harsh, scraping sound.
"Control," it said. "He will never have total control."
The laughter softened, almost sincere.
"But don't misunderstand. I will help you. I want this world to continue."
"Dead worlds are terribly boring."
The mouth closed, sealing itself back into Prime's skin as if it had never existed.
The room fell deathly quiet.
No one spoke.
No one moved.
Garuda finally broke it, voice careful. "You trust it?"
Prime shook his head. "No."
"Then why keep it?" Core asked.
Prime met their eyes, one by one.
"Because it's already inside me," he said. "And because when the opposites come… we might need something that understands them."
Omega studied him for a long moment. "Or something that is one."
Prime didn't deny it.
Tidal looked away first. "This changes things."
"Yes," Prime agreed. "It changes everything."
Silence settled again — heavier now, filled with doubt, fear, and something dangerously close to acceptance.
At last, Omega spoke.
"For now," he said, "we proceed as if it's telling the truth."
Garuda exhaled sharply. "For now."
Core nodded once. "But we don't forget what it is."
Prime closed his hand into a fist.
"Neither do I."
And somewhere deep within him, Exe smiled.