The doors to the lower study hissed open as Lucas stepped through, coat still half-zipped from the ride, boots tracking a faint trail of city dust onto Bai Manor's immaculate black stone floor.
Ava followed but said nothing.
She hovered in the doorway—arms loose at her sides, eyes unreadable—offering no commentary. No interruption. Just support. Her silence filled the room like a perimeter.
Inside, Bai Senior stood with one hand resting on the console, the other idly flipping through holographic logs above the Rewrite Core interface. Data streamed around him like quiet rain—sync permissions, origin codes, rewritten policies waiting for digital signatures.
He didn't look up.
"I expected you back hours ago."
Lucas pulled off his gloves, tossing them onto the desk.
"Expected you to be more surprised I came back at all."
Senior lifted his gaze—sharp, calm, infuriatingly neutral.
"You've never run from anything, Lucas."
