The place was silent now. Alarms were cut. Lights flickered like dying stars overhead. Auron's bike rolled down the hall slower this time — the hard part was over. Or so he thought.

And then, he saw him.

Encased in glass.

He almost missed it — the hallway was quiet, unmarked. But the chamber stood alone, lit faintly from within. And someone was inside. Leaning, almost weightless, against the glass. Barefoot. Slouched like gravity had grown tired of asking him to stand tall.

His forehead rested against the wall, his eyes open but unfocused. Hands half-curled, smudging the pane. Like he wasn’t trapped — just… placed there. Like a museum piece.

Auron stepped off the bike.

The boy didn’t react.

Closer now, Auron took in the details: oversized sleeves. Faint bruising where needles might’ve gone. A faint reflection of himself on the glass — and within it, the boy, staring like he was dreaming him up.

“…Hey,” Auron said. “What’s your name?”

The boy didn’t answer. His lips parted slightly. A pause.

Then:

“…You’re real?”

“Pretty sure,” Auron said.

The boy blinked slowly, head still pressed to the wall. “I thought you were another test.”

“I’m not.”

Another pause. Then, in a fragile, almost sleep-talk tone:

“Don’t let me wake up.”

Auron’s chest tightened. He moved to the side panel, ripping off the access plate and tearing into the wires. The security system sparked, hissed, and finally — released.

The glass slid open with a low hush.

The boy didn’t move.

“You can step out now,” Auron said.

The boy’s hands slipped off the glass, slow and shaky. Like he wasn’t used to walking anymore. He took a single step, bare foot against the cold floor — then another. And another.

He stopped only when he was a breath away.

Auron realized then how close they were.

The boy lifted a hand — not to touch, just to hover near Auron’s chest. Like he wanted to see if he was solid.

“You have wind in your hair,” the boy murmured.

“…That’s what happens when you ride fast,” Auron replied.

The boy’s expression stayed soft. Distant.

“I want wind.”

Auron turned, nodding toward the bike. “You’ll have it.”