The kitchen smelled like heat and bread and something almost normal.
Too normal.
Mia stood in the doorway for half a second longer than she needed to. Watching. Measuring.
Ishtar was already there, sleeves rolled, cutting fruit like she was preparing for war. Efficient. Controlled. Dangerous even with a knife and a bowl of oranges.
Octave leaned against the counter, not helping, obviously. Observing like everything was a game he had already solved.
Aglaë was near the table, quiet, focused on something simple. Cups. Plates. Order. Her way of holding the world together without making noise about it.
They looked… human.
Mia stepped in.
No announcement. No performance.
Just presence.
Ishtar glanced up first. A quick scan. Then a smirk.
"Well. The ghost trains now."
Octave tilted his head, eyes sharp. "Not just trains. Did you hear that rhythm earlier? Someone's getting precise."
Aglaë froze.
Not visibly. Not for anyone who didn't know how to look.
But Mia saw it.
The micro-tension. The breath that didn't fully land.
Ishtar caught it too. Of course she did.
"Oh come on," she said, too casually. "Don't pretend you weren't a fan."
Aglaë shook her head immediately. Too fast. "I wasn't— I mean— not like—"
Octave pushed off the counter, stepping closer with that quiet cruelty he wore like a second skin. "You knew the lyrics."
Silence.
Aglaë didn't answer.
Which was answer enough.
Ishtar grinned. "Go on. Which one?"
Aglaë looked at Mia now. Not at the others.
At her.
There was no demand in it. No expectation.
Just… exposure.
Mia felt something shift inside.
Not Alice.
Not Lilith.
Something quieter.
"Welcome," Aglaë said softly.
Of course.
Of course it was that one.
Octave let out a low laugh. "Classic."
Ishtar didn't wait. She started the first notes, badly on purpose, half-mocking, half-committed.
"Welcome… beautiful…"
Octave joined in, off-key but intentional.
"Look into my eyes…"
Aglaë tried not to smile.
Failed.
And for a second, the room tilted into something absurd.
Too light.
Too fragile.
Mia should have stayed out of it.
Should have watched.
Measured.
Stayed in control.
Instead—
She stepped forward.
"Stop," she said.
They stopped.
Not because of authority.
Because of tone.
Mia took a breath.
Then she sang.
No music.
No distortion.
No system behind it.
Just her voice.
"Welcome… beautiful…"
Clean.
Controlled.
Alive.
The room didn't move.
Didn't breathe.
"Look into my eyes…
tell me what you see…"
Her voice wrapped the space without crushing it.
No hypnosis.
No manipulation.
No trap.
Just presence.
Just truth.
Even the silence listened.
Aglaë's eyes were locked on her now. Not like a fan. Not like before.
Like she was seeing something new being born in real time.
Mia felt it.
Every note landing differently.
No external pull.
No internal fracture.
She wasn't disappearing into the song.
She was holding it.
Owning it.
"…you don't need to run…"
The last note faded.
No echo.
No trick.
Just air.
Stillness.
Then—
A breath.
Ishtar blinked first. "Okay… that's new."
Octave didn't smile this time. Which said more than anything he could have said.
Aglaë didn't speak at all.
Mia stood there.
Processing.
Something was off.
Not wrong.
Off.
Familiar.
But not the same.
Inside—
A presence shifted.
Light.
Sharp.
Amused.
Alice.
Leaning, not pushing.
Watching, not taking.
You did that, she said.
Not bitter.
Not possessive.
Almost impressed.
Mia didn't answer out loud.
Didn't need to.
Alice smiled anyway.
You're welcome.