Silence had fallen like a shroud over the corridor. Mayu moved forward, arms tense, muscles aching, her breath ragged with adrenaline. She no longer felt warmth in her fingers—only that strange vibration running through her wrist, the place where, once, a familiar hand had closed over hers.
A hand whose face she had almost forgotten.
"Ak…"
She stopped dead. The murmur died on her lips. This was not the moment.
Seth and Lia followed in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. The atmosphere around them felt different, as if the corridor itself were breathing. Lights flickered erratically, and the metal walls hummed with distant, mechanical pulses.
"This sector isn't on the map," Seth whispered, eyes on his device.
"It's like it was just activated," added Lia.
Mayu nodded, but she wasn't really listening anymore. Her gaze was drawn to a symbol hastily etched into the wall. A simple inverted triangle, striated with fractured lines.
She recognized it without knowing why.
Her heart quickened.
Once before, in a dream—or a memory—she had seen that symbol… behind a shattered window. Just before a boy vanished in a flash of light.
No, it wasn't a memory. More like a stolen sensation—vague, but indelible.
They pressed deeper. With each step, the air seemed to charge with electricity. An invisible breeze made Mayu's skin prickle, and in her mind fragments of images resurfaced: a hard gaze, a silent promise, a silhouette telling her never to forget who she was.
She clenched her fists.
Not now. Don't let yourself be distracted.
A metallic clang echoed suddenly. The three froze. Ahead, a massive door was unlocking itself with a slow, sinister groan.
Beyond, a room plunged into darkness. An overturned chair. Screens still warm, their lights flickering weakly.
"Someone just left," Lia breathed.
"Or someone's waiting for us," Seth murmured.
Mayu stepped inside first, drawn despite herself. Her eyes fixed on one wall where a blurred figure was half-painted—no, not painted—projected, like a thermal imprint. A body recently standing there. A tall, slender man. Something about his posture…
Her throat tightened. It was only an abstract form, yet… it was him. She was certain.
But why now? Why here?
She spun on her heel. "Let's move on."
No explanation. Not a word. But her gaze had changed.
Behind her, one of the screens flickered one last time. Just before it died, a file flashed on briefly—too fast to read fully. But one word stayed visible for a heartbeat:
Akira.