Just before the blast-off, Aether—the real Aether—stood alone on the surface, his eyes fixed on the square block of ground that stood silently before him.
It looked so still, so ordinary, yet beneath it was everything—the stairs, the secrets, the weight of what he had just done.
He could see the path leading down… he could see it all. But he didn't enter. He just stood there, frozen in place, like the answer would come if he waited a second longer.
Aether's face was lost in a thoughtful, conflicted expression. His brows knit, his jaw clenched slightly.
He wasn't sure if he had made the right choice.
He truly didn't know.
Because it was him.... It was Aether who had purposefully made that sound… that sharp, breaking sound inside the room just after he'd sensed they were leaving.
He had done it.
But for what?
Why?
He didn't have a clear answer himself, but he knew… something had to happen. Something had to be revealed.
So he made sure it would.
