The room changed.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
But fundamentally.
Because that—
That was the first thing she had claimed.
Not her name.
Not her past.
Not him.
That.
Her hand pressed more firmly against her abdomen.
Still weak.
Still uncertain.
But no longer absent.
Thessian did not speak.
Because whatever had just shifted—
Was not something to interrupt.
Liora's gaze remained where it was.
Unsteady.
Fighting through something unseen.
And for the first time since the square—
She was not just present.
She was returning.
Slowly.
Through something stronger than memory.
Through something that had not been broken.
Something—
That had survived.
And was pulling her back.
The word did not echo.
It did not need to.
It settled into the room and changed the air in a way no command, no report, no victory ever had.
"…mine."
