Life didn't change all at once.
That was the part Mina noticed most.
There was no moment where everything felt different, no sharp turn she could point to and say this is where it happened. Days still began the same way. Shifts still ended on time. Helix kept its shape, steady and precise.
But somewhere in between, she stopped shrinking.
It started with the clothes.
At first, she told herself it was practical. The sweater she'd bought was warmer than her uniform jacket, better for early mornings. The coat fit properly instead of hanging off her shoulders like borrowed armor. Neutral colors. Nothing loud. Nothing that asked for attention.
Still, it was hers.
She wore it twice before she realized she wasn't tugging at the sleeves or checking reflections in every pane of glass.
No one said anything.
That unsettled her more than comments ever had.
Lira noticed, of course. She always did.
"You're not hovering anymore," Lira said one afternoon, fingers flying over the terminal they were sharing.
Mina glanced up. "Hovering over what?"
"Yourself," Lira replied. "You used to stand like you were waiting to be corrected."
Mina frowned slightly. "I didn't—"
Lira cut her a look. "You did. You don't now."
Mina let that sit. She didn't argue. She didn't agree either. She just turned back to her screen, feeling something quiet settle into place.
⸻
Her work followed the same pattern.
Nothing flashy. Nothing sudden.
She noticed things. Small things. A schedule that kept overlapping the same department for no reason. A recurring delay that wasn't anyone's fault but belonged to the system itself. She adjusted where she could, flagged what she couldn't, and moved on.
She didn't announce it.
Maren found it anyway.
Mina was midway through logging adjustments when Maren stopped behind her desk, gaze skimming the display.
"Who changed this routing?" Maren asked.
Mina swallowed. "I did. If it's wrong, I can—"
"It's not," Maren interrupted. "It's cleaner."
Mina straightened a fraction.
"You think sideways," Maren continued, tapping the screen once. "Not fast. Thorough."
Mina wasn't sure how to respond, so she didn't.
"Library wing," Maren said. "Twice a week. You'll assist with resident-adjacent scheduling."
The word resident still landed with weight, but it didn't knock the air out of Mina's chest the way it once had.
"I can do that," she said.
Maren nodded once. "I know."
And that was that.
⸻
The night out wasn't planned as a celebration.
It happened because Lira got bored.
"You're going out," Lira announced, leaning against Mina's doorframe like she owned the place.
Mina blinked. "I didn't agree to go"
"You never do," Lira said. "That's why I tell you instead of asking."
"I have work tomorrow."
"So do most of the city," Lira replied. "They survive."
Mina hesitated just long enough to lose.
An hour later, she stood in Rhea's room, watching Rhea pull a dress from her wardrobe with zero ceremony.
"For the night," Rhea said, handing it over. "Don't spill anything on it."
Mina held the fabric carefully. It was soft, dark, and cut in a way that acknowledged a body instead of disguising it.
"I don't usually wear—"
Rhea met her eyes. "You're not committing to a crime. You're just leaving the building."
That made it easier.
⸻
Mina felt it the moment they stepped outside Helix.
Not confidence. Not excitement.
Awareness.
The dress moved when she walked. The jacket gave it weight. Her hair was loose, untouched, exactly how it fell when she wasn't trying to control it.
She caught her reflection briefly in a darkened window and looked away before she could overthink it.
Lira noticed anyway.
"There you are," she said softly. "That's better."
Tomas stood near the exit.
He looked up, paused and blushed.
It was brief. Barely there. But Mina saw it. The recalibration. The quick reset back into neutrality.
He nodded once, respectful, and looked away.
Mina kept walking, pulse steady but present.
Outside, Aurelion unfolded slowly.
The city didn't shout at night. It hummed. Light slid along buildings like intention, neon reflecting off stone and glass. Music drifted without demanding attention. People moved like they trusted the ground beneath them.
Women dressed like they belonged to themselves.
Mina felt eyes on her.
Not sharp. Not invasive.
Curious.
Her first instinct was to make herself smaller.
She didn't.
Inside the bar, noise wrapped around them. A man lingered near the counter, gaze drifting back to Mina once, twice.
Her shoulders tensed.
Lira shifted closer without saying a word, posture relaxed, presence unmistakable.
The man looked away.
That was it.
No scene. No threat.
Mina exhaled slowly, something inside her loosening.
The rest of the night passed easier than she expected. She laughed. Spoke without rehearsing every sentence. Watched how people moved through space, how power flowed quietly through confidence and proximity rather than volume.
At one point, as they crossed through a crowded street, Mina slowed.
She felt it again.
Not eyes.
Attention.
Focused. Intent. Briefly sharp.
She looked around instinctively, but nothing stood out. No one staring. No obvious source.
Just the sense that somewhere nearby, someone had noticed.
Not the uniform.
Not the badge.
Her.
"You okay?" Lira asked lightly, touching her arm.
Mina nodded. "Yeah. Just… weird."
Lira smiled. "That's the city clocking you."
On the walk back, the glow dimmed behind them, and Mina felt pleasantly exhausted.
Aurelion wasn't safe the way Helix was safe.
But it was alive.
Back in her room, Mina folded Rhea's dress carefully and set it aside to return. She stood by the window for a long moment, watching the courtyard below.
Somewhere out there, someone had seen her.
And hadn't looked away.
The thought didn't scare her.
It stayed with her.