The announcement went live at exactly 9:00 a.m.
No teaser countdown.
No dramatic music.
Just a single post—clean, minimal, unmistakable.
Aria Lin will return to public activities this quarter.
That was it.
No explanation.
No apology.
No gratitude tour.
Within sixty seconds, the servers staggered.
---
Phones buzzed across three time zones.
Screens lit up in studios, offices, dorm rooms, taxis stuck in traffic. Someone gasped on a morning show. Someone else spilled coffee on a keyboard and didn't notice.
"She's alive?"
"No, she never died."
"Didn't she disappear?"
"They said she was done."
"They said a lot of things."
Search trends spiked. Old clips resurfaced. Fan accounts woke from dormancy like something breathing again.
The industry froze for half a beat—
Then recalculated.
---
Aria didn't watch any of it.
She stood in a quiet apartment, hair still damp, phone face-down on the table. The city outside her window moved like nothing had changed—cars, people, noise, momentum.
Noah leaned against the counter, arms crossed. "It's everywhere."
"I know."
"You're trending in countries you've never been to."
"That'll happen."
He studied her. "You okay?"
She considered the question, then nodded once. "Neutral."
That was honest.
Excitement was noise.
Fear was memory.
Neutral meant control.
---
Her phone vibrated again.
She didn't pick it up.
"Manager?" Noah guessed.
"Old manager," she corrected. "Plural."
A pause.
"And the others?"
She finally reached for the phone, scrolling just long enough to confirm what she already knew.
"Yes," she said. "They noticed."
Not fans.
Not media.
The ones who tracked patterns instead of headlines.
---
Outside, a giant screen on a nearby building refreshed.
Her face appeared for half a second—an old still from years ago, sharp-eyed, unreadable.
Someone had already started selling the return.
Aria turned away from the window.
"They'll try to define this," she said. "Control the story."
Noah nodded. "And you?"
"I won't."
She picked up her jacket.
The announcement had been made.
That was step one.
The game, finally, could begin.