The little girl's words lingered in the entrance hall long after she left.
"Like stars."
Such a simple sentence.
Yet Cairo stood completely still, as though something inside him had cracked open for the first time.
The unstable fragments surrounding his body drifted quietly now, their violent movements finally settling into slow pulses of light.
Juvy watched him carefully.
Not because she feared another outburst.
Because she recognized that expression.
The confusion that came when kindness arrived after expecting rejection for too long.
Cairo lowered his eyes slightly.
"…Nobody's ever said that before."
His voice was so quiet it almost disappeared beneath the noise of the reconstruction hall.
Aren looked toward him.
"They will again."
Cairo didn't answer.
But for the first time since meeting him, Aren sensed something different inside his resonance.
Not anger.
Not panic.
Uncertainty.
And strangely enough—
That was progress.
Kael descended from the upper platform a few moments later, reviewing new readings on his tablet as he approached.
"The stabilization effect is becoming more consistent."
Maxruell sighed dramatically. "There it is. The science language."
"It matters," Kael replied without looking up. "Cairo's resonance responded directly to external emotional perception."
Cairo frowned slightly. "I understood maybe half of that sentence."
"It means," Lina translated gently, "your emotions affect your resonance, but other people's emotions affect it too."
Cairo looked unsettled by that.
"So if people fear me…"
"Your instability increases," Kael confirmed.
Silence followed immediately afterward.
Because all of them understood the problem.
Fear created instability.
Instability created fear.
A cycle capable of destroying someone from the inside out.
Juvy crossed her arms quietly.
"We can't let resonance-born individuals grow up isolated."
Kael nodded once. "Agreed."
Maxruell glanced between them. "You two already sound like exhausted parents."
Neither responded.
Which honestly worried him more.
Nearby, workers continued moving through the command sector, though many still glanced cautiously toward Cairo and Aren as they passed.
Some curious.
Some nervous.
Some openly suspicious.
Cairo noticed every single look.
His resonance flickered faintly each time.
Aren stepped beside him again.
"You don't have to react to all of them."
Cairo let out a weak laugh.
"That's easy for you to say."
"No," Aren replied softly. "It isn't."
Their eyes met briefly.
And for the first time, Cairo truly understood something important:
Aren wasn't calm because they were stronger.
Aren was calm because someone had once reached out to them too.
That realization changed something.
Later that evening, the upper observation deck overlooking Ground Zero remained unusually quiet.
The city stretched endlessly below, glowing with reconstruction lights beneath the darkening sky. Cranes moved slowly between half-repaired buildings while distant transport rails carried supplies across the recovering districts.
Life continuing forward.
Despite everything.
Cairo stood near the railing silently, watching the city breathe beneath him.
"It's loud," he muttered.
Juvy walked over beside him.
"You get used to it eventually."
"Did you?"
Juvy smiled faintly.
"Not really."
That answer surprised him.
For a while, they simply stood there together beneath the cold night wind.
Then Cairo finally asked the question that had clearly been haunting him since arriving.
"…What if they're right?"
Juvy looked toward him carefully. "About what?"
"That people like me are dangerous."
The words came out flatly.
Emotionless on the surface.
But beneath them—
Fear lingered heavily.
Juvy leaned against the railing beside him.
"Danger isn't what decides whether someone deserves to exist."
Cairo stared ahead silently.
"My resonance hurt people."
"So can humans."
That answer made him glance toward her immediately.
Juvy's expression remained calm.
"People hurt each other all the time. Sometimes by accident. Sometimes intentionally."
The city lights reflected softly in her eyes.
"But we still keep choosing to live together anyway."
Cairo lowered his gaze.
He wanted to believe that.
Part of him still didn't know how.
Far below the observation deck, laughter echoed faintly from one of the reconstruction zones.
Workers finishing another successful repair sector.
Small human sounds.
Ordinary sounds.
Cairo listened quietly.
Then, almost hesitantly—
"…Do you really think there's a place for people like us here?"
Juvy looked out across the city before answering.
Not quickly.
Not carelessly.
Like the question deserved honesty.
"Yes," she said softly.
Then after a pause—
"But I think we'll have to help this world learn how to make room for us first."
The wind moved gently through the observation deck.
And above them, scattered across the dark sky beyond the ruined clouds—
Stars slowly began appearing one by one.