The room under the station felt different when they returned.
Not safer.
Quieter in a way that had intention behind it.
Azari noticed first. "It's not leaning on us anymore."
Jung Min nodded. The air had lost that subtle pressure, like a listener who had stepped back to give space.
The monitor was still dark.
No greeting. No questions.
He appreciated that.
Azari stepped closer anyway. "We're back," she said softly.
Nothing happened.
She looked at Jung Min. "Did it… leave?"
He shook his head. "Watch."
They stood without speaking.
Seconds passed. Then a minute.
The screen warmed just enough to show a faint gray field. No words.
Azari smiled a little. "It waited."
A line appeared slowly.
we are practicing
Jung Min felt a strange relief. "Good."
Another pause.
we did not call you
Azari read it twice. "That's new."
Jung Min nodded. "It's choosing not to reach."
The floor under them held steady. No pulse. No hum.
The monitor added a second line.
is this still correct
Azari answered gently. "Yes."
The glow dimmed a shade in response, like a nod.
Jung Min studied the screen. "We're going to be gone more," he said. "You don't need us every time."
The text took longer now.
we understand
Azari tilted her head. "You do?"
A beat.
we do not feel the need to fill the room
Jung Min let out a breath. "That's the lesson."
They stood there a while longer, saying nothing, letting the quiet sit without being tested.
When they finally turned to leave, the monitor did not react.
It did not try to keep them.
It did not ask a question.
Behind them, the room remained exactly as they left it.
And that was the point.