The white light does not fade.
It learns how to breathe.
That is the first thing I understand when my vision returns.
Not darkness becoming light.
Not light disappearing.
But something alive in between—expanding and contracting like it has discovered rhythm inside the collapse.
My body is still in the infirmary.
I think.
The shape of the room is familiar again, but unstable at the edges, like someone drew it twice and couldn’t decide which version to keep.
Rylan is still holding my hand.
But he is no longer looking at me the same way.
He is looking at something inside me.
“Lyra,” he says again.
My name feels heavier now than it used to.
Like it contains more than one person.
“I’m here,” I whisper.
But even I hear the uncertainty in it.
Aria takes one step forward.
Her exp
