After the meeting with Ronnie, the group followed Elara through the glowing streets of Neoterra Prime. The city was alive with noise and light, but she moved like a ghost, weaving silently through the crowd.
Jack muttered under his breath to Henry.
Jack: "She's like a ghost. Doesn't even make a sound."
Henry didn't respond. He was watching her closely—not in suspicion, but in quiet curiosity. She was their age, yet she carried herself like someone who'd lived far more than her years.
Eventually, they reached a quieter district, away from the chaotic main streets.
Elara stopped in front of an old but well-kept residential building, its neon-lit sign flickering faintly.
Elara (softly): "…Here."
It was the first word she'd spoken outside of the tower. Her voice was soft, almost fragile, but steady. She opened the door and gestured for them to enter.
The interior was warm, a stark contrast to the cold streets. There were separate rooms for each of them and a small common area.
Emilia and the others went ahead, starting to settle in. But Henry lingered, watching Elara as she stood quietly by the doorway, as if waiting for something—or perhaps nothing at all.
Henry stepped closer to her.
Henry: "You're Elara, right?"
She blinked once, then gave a small nod.
Elara (quiet): "…Yes."
Henry tilted his head slightly.
Henry: "You're around my age, aren't you?"
Another small nod. She didn't elaborate.
He paused for a moment, then spoke again, his voice calm but sincere.
Henry: "You don't talk much, do you?"
Elara looked down for a second, then back up at him. Her expression didn't change, but there was a faint flicker in her eyes—something that almost looked like hesitation.
Elara (softly): "…I don't have much to say."
For a moment, there was silence. The faint hum of the city's neon lights outside filled the gap.
Henry didn't press her. He recognized that kind of silence—the kind that came from something deeper, something heavy.
Henry: "You've been through a lot, haven't you?"
Elara's eyes shifted slightly, but she didn't answer.
Elara: "…It doesn't matter."
Henry looked at her for another moment, then gave a faint, understanding smile.
Henry: "It does. But I won't ask. Not unless you want to tell me."
For the first time, something subtle softened in her gaze. She didn't smile, but the tension in her shoulders eased just slightly.
The others called from inside, breaking the moment.
Henry stepped back, giving her space.
Henry: "Thanks for bringing us here."
Elara gave a tiny nod and turned to leave, but before she did, she glanced back at him for just a second.
There was something in that glance—something unspoken, like a quiet recognition between two people who understood what it meant to carry things you couldn't put into words.
And then she was gone, disappearing back into the neon-lit streets like a shadow.
As she walked away alone, her calm expression faltered for just a heartbeat. Memories flickered behind her eyes—cold metal, sterile laboratories, and the sound of her own screams during the experiments in an institute called Saphir IX.
But she pushed it down.
Like always.
The neon streets buzzed faintly as Elara walked back through the quieter sector of Neoterra Prime. She moved silently, her small frame slipping through the city's chaos like a ghost.
Soon, she reached a dimly lit building next to the tower, with reinforced glass walls. Ronnie was there, waiting outside, his tall silhouette casting a long shadow against the flickering lights of the district.
When he saw her, he exhaled quietly.
Ronnie: "You dropped them off?"
Elara nodded once.
Elara: "…Yes."
Ronnie studied her for a moment. His voice was calm, but there was a subtle edge of concern.
Ronnie: "Then why didn't you stay? That's where we're staying too. You were supposed to keep close to them."
Elara lowered her gaze. Her fingers lightly touched the edge of her sleeve, a quiet fidget that betrayed what she didn't say.
Elara (softly): "…I didn't want to."
Ronnie sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
Ronnie: "You can't keep isolating yourself forever. They're not your enemies. They're just kids, same as you."
She looked at him for a brief second, her eyes steady but empty in a way that made even Ronnie hesitate.
Elara: "…They don't know me. If they did… they wouldn't want me there."
Ronnie went silent. He'd seen that look in her eyes before—the same hollow gaze she had the day he found her and Elion, after pulling her from the hell of the streets.
He stepped closer, his deep voice softening, though it still carried weight.
Ronnie: "Elara… what happened to you wasn't your fault. And what happened with Elion is definitely not yours either. I need you to believe that."
But Elara didn't respond. She turned slightly away, her voice almost a whisper.
Elara: "…I'm not sure if I want to believe it either."
Ronnie crouched slightly so he could meet her at eye level. Despite his towering, authoritative presence, with her, he was patient.
Ronnie: "You're stronger than you think. Stronger than they could ever understand. That's why you're still here."
Elara blinked slowly.
Elara: "…Or maybe I'm just not human enough to break."
The words hung heavy between them.
Ronnie wanted to say something—anything to pull her out of that thought—but he couldn't. He knew too well that her past couldn't be erased with simple words.
So instead, he rested a large, gentle hand on her shoulder.
Ronnie: "One step at a time. That's all I ask of you."
Elara gave the faintest nod, her expression unreadable.
Elara: "…I never understood why he protected me."
Ronnie: "That's how he was."
Elara: "…He didn't know me; I was just a little girl who had stolen a slice of bread."
Ronnie: "I know, I was there."
Elara: "… I also never understood why you took us in…that day…"
Ronnie smiled at her; he softly pressed her head against his chest, hugging her tightly.
Ronnie (softly): "Because that day, I saw two children who needed my help."