The trail curved downward in a long, gentle line.

Aria and Virel walked ahead.

Mira and Hale followed—quiet not from fear, but from the weight of choice.

They reached the ridge landing.

An EVOTL transit craft waited there—sleek, silver, its twin ring-rotors angled skyward. Morning light pooled across its hull like liquid amber.

Hale whistled. “Transit sent a good one.”

Aria smiled. “You always had co-op luck.”

Clem chimed dryly, “Luck is a subscription tier.”

The EVOTL door opened—inviting, quiet, patient.

Mira didn’t board.

She turned to Aria and Virel.

“I should go back to San Azura,” she said. “If PASS panics, they’ll send a containment team. Someone needs to keep them calm.”

Aria nodded. “You’re the only one they’ll listen to.”

“Then I’ll make sure they do.”

Maris stepped from the trees at the edge of the clearing, scarf tugged by the wind.

“Good timing,” Hale said.

“I try,” Maris replied, then faced Mira. “You’re right to go. I’ll take them north. They’ll need someone who knows the tunnels.”

Mira placed a hand on her shoulder. “Find them safely.”

Maris’s voice softened. “I intend to.”

Hale boarded first, pausing in the doorway. “Virel—don’t climb anything unstable.”

“I don’t climb unstable things,” Virel protested.

Aria snorted softly. “He climbs everything.”

Clem brightened. “I will record all climbing incidents.”

“No you will not,” Virel muttered.

Mira met Aria’s eyes.

“Listen before you act.”

“Always,” Aria promised.

The EVOTL rose, slow and soft, then lifted above the treeline—carrying Mira and Hale toward San Azura and the political storm waiting for them.

When the silver speck vanished into the light, the ridge exhaled.

Maris shouldered her pack. “North?”

Aria nodded. “North.”

Virel closed his eyes, shardlight threading his veins in steady lines.

“Let’s hope they want to be found.”

They stepped off the landing pad and into the forest trail—the ridge behind them humming in quiet support.

The journey had begun.