The taxi rolled to a slow stop in front of a modest apartment building tucked between two taller towers on Ironhaven's outer district street. Neon signs flickered along the road nearby, their reflections stretching across damp pavement left behind by the storm from days earlier.
Lucas leaned forward from the back seat and tapped the driver's shoulder.
"This is us."
The car pulled over to the curb. The meter clicked off with a quiet beep.
Soren stepped out first.
The cool afternoon air brushed against his face, carrying the faint scent of rain and city exhaust. He stood still for a moment, looking up at the building.
Home.
The word felt both comforting and strangely distant.
The apartment complex wasn't impressive. It was a mid-rise structure made of concrete and steel, the kind built decades ago when Ironhaven expanded rapidly. Narrow balconies lined the upper floors, and the walls carried the faint wear of time. Laundry hung from one railing, shifting slightly in the breeze.
Lucas stretched his arms as he stepped out of the taxi.
"Finally," he said. "Hospital food sucks."
Soren smirked faintly.
"You ate most of mine when you visited."
Lucas shrugged without shame.
"You weren't finishing it."
Soren grabbed his small bag and followed Lucas toward the building entrance.
As they stepped inside, the familiar smell of the building hit him immediately—cleaning solution mixed with old metal and the faint scent of cooking from someone's apartment upstairs.
His footsteps slowed.
Something strange stirred in his chest.
He had lived here for sixteen years.
Every hallway.
Every stairwell.
Every creak in the floorboards upstairs.
He knew them all.
Yet at the same time…
It felt unfamiliar.
The sensation crept quietly through his thoughts, like two voices trying to speak at once.
One set of memories belonged to Soren Vale.
Running through the hallway as a kid. Getting scolded by his mother for tracking dirt into the apartment. Arguing with Lucas over whose turn it was to do the dishes.
But another set of memories belonged to someone else.
Sorenth.
The Prime Immortal.
He remembered cosmic halls built from starlight. Vast chambers floating in the void between galaxies. Worlds he had visited that stretched across infinite skies.
Compared to that…
This apartment building was nothing.
And yet it mattered more than he expected.
Lucas glanced back at him.
"You coming?"
Soren blinked, realizing he had stopped halfway down the hallway.
"Yeah," he said.
They climbed the stairs to the third floor.
Lucas unlocked the apartment door and pushed it open.
"Home sweet home."
Soren stepped inside.
The living room was small but comfortable. A worn couch sat against the wall facing a television. A low table stood in front of it, cluttered with old magazines and a few textbooks. The kitchen connected directly to the room with a narrow counter separating the spaces.
Sunlight streamed through the balcony window.
Everything looked exactly as he remembered.
And yet the strange feeling returned.
Nostalgia.
Familiarity.
But also distance.
Like he was standing inside someone else's memories.
Soren walked further into the apartment slowly.
His footsteps felt heavier here.
Lucas tossed his jacket onto the couch.
"You should sit down," he said. "Doctor said you're supposed to rest."
Soren ignored him and moved down the hallway toward the bedrooms.
Halfway there, he paused.
A mirror hung on the wall.
He stared at it.
For a moment, he simply looked at his reflection.
The face staring back at him belonged to Soren Vale.
Short dark hair that never quite stayed in place. Lean features from years of martial training. Faint bruises still visible along his jaw from the accident. His eyes were a deep gray, sharp but calm.
It was the face of a normal teenager.
But inside that face…
Lived something far older.
Soren raised a hand slowly and touched the side of the mirror.
"This body…" he murmured quietly.
Lucas leaned against the hallway wall.
"What are you doing?"
Soren didn't answer immediately.
He continued staring at his reflection.
The feeling inside him twisted again.
Sixteen years of human memories told him this face was his.
But thousands of years of immortal existence insisted otherwise.
Sorenth had never truly had a body.
He had existed as something greater—an embodiment of law itself.
Now he was flesh and bone.
Fragile.
Limited.
And yet…
Alive.
The sensation was impossible to describe.
It wasn't discomfort.
But it wasn't comfort either.
It was like wearing someone else's life.
Lucas walked closer.
"You hit your head harder than we thought?" he joked.
Soren finally stepped away from the mirror.
"Just thinking."
Lucas snorted.
"That's dangerous."
Before Soren could respond, another voice called from the living room.
"You're back."
Mira stood near the couch, holding a book in one hand.
She had arrived while they were inside the hallway.
Unlike Lucas, Mira moved quietly—so quietly that people often didn't notice when she entered a room.
She was smaller than both of them, with long dark hair tied loosely behind her head. Her calm brown eyes always seemed to be studying things more carefully than most people realized.
Soren leaned against the doorway.
"Hey."
Mira closed her book.
"You look better."
"High praise."
Lucas walked past them into the kitchen.
"I told him he looked terrible earlier."
"That's because he did," Mira replied calmly.
Soren chuckled under his breath.
Mira stepped closer and examined him carefully.
Her eyes moved over his bandaged side, the faint bruising, and the tired look in his face.
"You're walking steadily now," she said.
Lucas groaned from the kitchen.
"Please stop analyzing everything like a doctor."
Mira ignored him.
"Your breathing is still shallow though," she added.
Soren blinked.
"You've been reading medical books again, haven't you?"
"Maybe."
Lucas returned with a glass of water and handed it to Soren.
"Drink," he ordered.
Soren accepted it.
"You two always this bossy?"
"Only when you almost die," Lucas said.
Mira tilted her head slightly.
"You're acting different."
Soren stiffened.
"Different?"
"You're quieter."
Lucas laughed.
"He got hit by a truck, Mira. Of course he's different."
Mira studied Soren for another moment.
Then she shrugged.
"Maybe."
Soren looked between the two of them.
Lucas was tall for his age, already starting to build the broader frame of someone who trained constantly. His movements carried the restless energy of a fighter.
Mira was the opposite.
Calm.
Observant.
Quietly intelligent.
Standing here in the apartment with them felt…
Normal.
Something deep in Sorenth's ancient mind shifted slightly.
For thousands of years he had dealt with gods, rulers, and civilizations.
But he had never had this.
A family.
He looked around the apartment again.
Small.
Simple.
Fragile.
Yet strangely warm.
Lucas flopped onto the couch.
"You better recover fast," he said. "Academy's going to start asking questions if you're gone too long."
Soren leaned against the wall.
"I'll be back soon."
Mira picked up her book again.
"Just don't get hit by another truck."
Lucas laughed.
Soren smiled faintly.
Because despite the clash of memories inside his mind…
Despite the weight of what he once was…
This place still felt like home.
And for now…
That was enough.