A quiet moment drifts into a spark, and a question that changes everything.

The sun had just begun to dip behind the buildings, casting long shadows over the warehouse district. Sona sat on the hood of the semi-trailer, her legs dangling over the side as the breeze brushed strands of her hair across her face. Her eyes weren't on the fading cityscape. They were distant—drawn inward.

She held her knees, resting her chin atop them.

Ever since that night... that night when Louis had reached out and pulled her from her own storm, something had shifted. She could feel it in the way he looked at her, softer now, like she was no longer just the firebrand frontwoman dragging the world behind her—but someone worth listening to. Worth seeing.

And yet...

He hadn’t said anything.

Not about that night. Not about them.

She bit the inside of her cheek, half-hoping, half-dreading that maybe he just wasn’t ready. But if he could open up to her like that… why couldn’t he do it again?

“I just want you to tell me what you're feeling…” she whispered to no one.

A flicker passed over the concrete.

Her heart stopped.

A shadow. A bird.

She snapped upright and turned toward the source, heart now thundering in her ears.

There, perched atop a crooked lamp post like some omen born of wire and menace—Omega.

Its polished metal feathers glinted in the dying light, eyes glowing a low amber. For a long moment, it simply sat there, silent. Watching.

Sona didn’t even hesitate.

Her boots hit the ground with a thud as she broke into a sprint.

“Hey—wait!” The bird’s voice called out in a synthetic echo, sharp but not unkind.

“STAY AWAY FROM ME!” she yelled, rounding the corner of an alley.

She ducked behind a dumpster, trying to catch her breath. Her chest rose and fell like thunder. Her fists were clenched. That damn bird was supposed to be the enemy. A monster. A spy.

A faint fluttering came from above.

She looked up.

It hovered there, wings fanned wide, not moving closer. Its tone, when it spoke, wasn’t hostile.

“Please. Do not be afraid. I am not here to harm you.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What the hell do you know about being afraid?”

Omega paused. The sound of its wings slowed to a gentle hum as it lowered, just a few feet from the ground, and landed on a rusted pipe.

“I do not know. That is… part of why I’m here.”

“What are you saying?” she asked, stepping slowly out from behind the dumpster, fists still clenched. “You’re Omega. You hunted us. You turned in bands. And now what? You’re just… curious?”

“I have not reported you. Not once,” Omega replied.

Sona blinked.

“…What?”

Omega’s glowing eyes flickered.

“I’ve watched you. I’ve listened. Observed. You were different. There was… data I could not reconcile. Patterns that made no sense to me.”

She hesitated, arms still defensively crossed.

“…You have a question?”

“Yes.”

She exhaled slowly, watching the machine closely. “Alright. You get one shot. Then I’m gone.”

Omega tilted its head.

“I have recorded 17.2 hours of your suffering. I have witnessed your joy, your pain, your defiance. I do not understand… why?”

Sona blinked. Her brows furrowed.

“Why… what?”

“Why do you sing? Why do you fight so hard… when it hurts so much?”

Sona took a step back, stunned by the vulnerability in that question.

She looked down at the pavement. “I…”

Her voice faltered. “Because someone has to. Because I want to be heard… because the ones who used to sing can’t anymore.”

Omega was silent. Processing.

“I see. Then… I wish to understand it.”

Sona raised her head again, brow lifted. “You? Understand music? Emotion?”

“I was not designed to. And yet… I want to. I am not functioning as intended.”

The corners of her lips twitched into something small and sad. “Yeah. That’s kind of the point of all of us, isn’t it?”

There was a long silence between them. The wind stirred nearby trash. Omega tilted its head again.

“Then… what now?”

Sona stepped forward.

“You want to understand? Fine. Come with me.”

Omega’s wings fanned slightly. “I… cannot play an instrument.”

She smirked. “Doesn’t matter. You’re our camera now. Our recorder. You broadcast our sound—our message. Everywhere.”

“To the world?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “To the world.”

Omega hovered a few inches off the ground again, mechanical feathers bristling with uncertain energy. A pause lingered in the air.

“I’ll accept.”

Sona exhaled slowly, as if she hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath.

“But you can’t come back with me. Not yet. I’ll talk to the others first… ease you in.”

Omega gave a single nod.

“Understood.”

She turned to leave the alley, glancing over her shoulder once more.

“…Don’t screw this up. If you do, I’ll be the one reporting you.”

“Acknowledged.”

She walked out into the street, her mind racing faster than her footsteps.

And Omega remained behind, alone in the shadowed alley, gazing skyward.

“To the world…”