The warehouse was quiet now. The kind of stillness that lingered after music had shaken the walls—like the building itself was catching its breath. The faint hum of electronics echoed softly, a distant refrigerator whirring to life in the kitchen.

Sona walked the hall alone, the echo of her footsteps barely audible on the concrete floor. Isa was dozing on the couch with her hoodie over her face, breathing slow and steady. The kind of fake sleep that was easy to fake when no one expected you to be listening.

Sona’s fingers brushed the wall as she made her way to her room. She opened the door gently and stepped inside, closing it behind her with a soft click.

She stood still for a moment in the low light, allowing the quiet to settle over her.

Then she walked to the desk and pulled out a small gold heart-shaped locket from her pocket, worn with time, the hinge faintly squeaky as she opened it. Inside: the fading photo of Miura, her smile soft, forever frozen in time. The other side was empty.

Sona set it down on the desk and leaned forward, hands planted on the edge, staring at her reflection in the dark window.

"...Why do I keep offering my heart to things that don't have one?"

She didn’t expect an answer. She let herself collapse onto the bed, exhaling deeply. Her thoughts tangled—images of Omega, its red eyes unblinking, its question: Why?

Why did you run toward danger? Why did you stay even when it hurt? Why sing?

The knock on the door startled her.

She blinked. Late night. Who—?

When she opened it, she didn’t expect to see him.

“Tuck?”

The older man stood there with tired eyes and his signature cigarette tucked behind his ear. His long coat was travel-worn, and he had a slight slouch to his stance—as if the road itself weighed on him.

“Evenin’, kid.”

She broke into a small smile. “You’re back.”

“Didn’t think I’d miss this rusty warehouse, but... here I am.”

She stepped aside to let him in. He took a seat in her desk chair, spinning it slightly before settling in. She sat on the edge of her bed again, studying him.

“So where’d you go?”

Tuck stretched his legs out, arms folded behind his head. “Elgona.”

Sona’s eyes widened slightly. “The Burning City...”

Outside the room, Isa shifted under the blanket. Her eyes remained closed, but her ears were fully open now.

Tuck nodded. “Place is still breathing. Not alive—but breathing. The kind of fire that doesn’t go out even after the light’s gone.”

“You really went there?” Sona asked, intrigued.

“Spent a few months talkin’ to the right ghosts. Found a few of the living too. Musicians, rebels, broken dreamers still hoping to light one last spark.”

He reached into his coat and slid a folded paper across the desk.

A name was scrawled on it: Juno.

“Girl’s got guts. Runs a space out there, kinda like what Pops does here—but rougher, raw. Told her about you. About Rock On.”

Sona picked up the note. “You think we could actually do something there?”

Tuck gave her a knowing look. “You’re not just some underground band anymore. They call you the Singing Asura for a reason.”

She rolled her eyes lightly. “Still not sure I like that title.”

“It fits,” he said simply. “You don’t just sing. You bleed into the mic.”

A pause hung between them.

Sona looked down at the note again, then sighed and leaned back.

“There’s something else I need to tell you.”

Tuck raised a brow.

“It’s about Omega.”

That made the air shift.

Tuck didn’t speak, but he leaned forward, listening.

Sona took a breath. “It found me. Or I found it. I ran... but it didn’t attack. It didn’t even try to stop me.”

“What did it do?”

“…It asked a question. Just one word: Why?”

Tuck stayed silent.

“I gave it a chance. Just one. I told it... if it wants to understand, it has to walk with us. Hear our songs. Feel it. So I offered it a spot in the band.”

“You what?”

“It’s not playing an instrument. It’s the eye in the sky. I told it to be our camera, our signal—broadcast us to the world.”

A long pause. Tuck’s expression was unreadable at first. Then… he exhaled and leaned back.

“Well, damn. That might be the best damn idea you’ve had.”

Sona blinked. “You’re not mad?”

“No. Just surprised. But… if it really wants to learn, then being with you lot might be the only way it gets close to human.”

In the living room, Isa’s hand clenched faintly under the blanket.

But she said nothing.

Tuck stood after a while and brushed some ash from his sleeve.

“We’ll bring it up with the rest soon. But the Elgona idea—if we’re doing this, we need to move quick. Strike while there’s noise.”

Sona nodded. “I’ll talk to the others tomorrow.”

Tuck gave her a nod before stepping toward the door.

“And Sona?”

“Yeah?”

He paused in the doorway, a soft smile on his face.

“Miura would’ve been proud.”

Then he left, his steps fading down the hall.

Sona stood alone again in the quiet. She looked at the paper in her hand, then to the locket on the desk, still slightly open.

And outside the room—Isa lay still. But her mind raced with questions. With doubt.

With fear.