Liv turned, and for a moment everything seemed to stop, not because of the room or the collapsing system around her, but because of one thing that should not have been standing in front of her.
Someone was there.
Major Leon Archer.
Three years ago, he died, and Liv saw it herself. Not through reports, not through secondhand stories, but from a distance too close to ever forget. She was there when the fire began swallowing everything, when the structure collapsed piece by piece, and when Leon never made it out.
From that day on, it wasn't the world that changed; it was her. Something inside her stopped, something that never truly came back.
And now he stood there.
Whole. Alive. And it didn't make sense.
Liv raised her weapon, not because she was ready to shoot, but because her hands were trembling, and holding onto something was the only way to steady herself.
"Don't move."
Her voice was quieter than usual, lacking the calm it normally carried.
Leon didn't move. He didn't step closer, and he didn't speak. He simply stood there, looking at her as if time had never passed, as if those three years had never existed.
And that was what made it worse.
Liv's breathing began to falter as the memory forced its way back in, bringing heat, the sound of explosions, and the crushing pressure that had once thrown her to the ground. Everything stopped at the same point when Leon remained inside and never came out.
She had been there. But not fast enough. Not strong enough to pull him out.
And since that moment — there had been no one else.
"…you died."
The words came out softly, not as a question, but as something she had believed for years, something now breaking apart right in front of her.
Leon didn't answer. His gaze remained the same, steady, unshaken.
Liv stepped closer, one step, then another, until the distance between them was close enough to prove this wasn't an illusion.
"Answer me."
Her voice cracked slightly, almost inaudible.
"Three years, Leon."
No answer. Only silence. And that hurt more than any explanation could.
Liv let out a quiet laugh, dry and empty, like something forced out of her.
"I kept going back to that grave," she said, her eyes never leaving him. "The place I believed you were."
She took a breath and held it for a moment.
"Again and again," she continued more softly. "For three years."
The room felt tighter, heavier.
"And now you're standing here," her voice hardened slightly, "like none of it ever happened."
Leon finally moved, just one step forward, enough to make Liv tense instantly.
"Don't."
He stopped. Just like before. He always stopped when she asked.
And that — hurt the most.
"…you're real," Liv whispered, as if she still needed to convince herself. "Too real."
From outside, sounds began to close in: footsteps, forced doors, time running out.
Leon looked at her more deeply now, like there was something he wanted to say, but never did.
"I didn't die."
The words were simple, short, and explained nothing.
Liv shook her head slowly. "That's not an answer."
"It isn't."
A few seconds stretched longer than they should have.
"Why now?" Liv asked again, her voice steadier this time, colder.
Leon didn't answer. His gaze shifted briefly toward the door before returning to her.
"Get out of here," he said finally, his tone sharper, more familiar, just like before.
Liv didn't move. "I'm not going anywhere until you —"
The lights flickered. Just for a second.
And when they came back — Leon was gone.
Gone. Like three years ago.
The door burst open, and Kai entered first, moving straight toward Liv without hesitation.
"Liv."
His hand caught her wrist, pulling her back into the moment.
"Status."
Liv didn't answer right away. Her eyes were still fixed on the empty space where Leon had been just seconds ago.
"I'm fine," she said at last.
Kai didn't let go. His gaze studied her face longer than usual, searching for something he couldn't find.
"You don't look fine."
Liv didn't respond.
"You saw something." Not a question, and she knew it.
She shook her head. "No."
Too fast. Kai noticed immediately. He stepped closer, closing nearly all the distance between them.
"I don't like being lied to," he said quietly, his tone no longer fully professional. "Especially when something happens right in front of me, and I don't know what it is."
Liv met his gaze, calm as always, closed off as ever.
"Focus on the system."
"You're avoiding it."
"We're under attack."
"And you've changed."
The words came softer, but far sharper.
A few seconds passed in silence before Liv finally took a breath and forced herself back into focus.
Her eyes shifted to the still-active panel.
"This isn't just a breach," she said.
Kai didn't interrupt.
"Someone accessed the core system. Not from outside, but through a path that shouldn't exist."
Rian's voice cut in quickly through comms. "That's not possible. All internal access is locked."
"He didn't use a normal route," Liv replied, her eyes still fixed on the screen. "He found a gap. And deep enough to stay undetected."
Silence settled between them again.
Kai didn't respond immediately. He just watched her, longer this time, deeper, like he was trying to read something she refused to say.
"We're not done."
The words were quiet, but clear.
Liv didn't answer.
Because her mind was still there, in this room, at that exact spot.
Where Leon had stood. Where he disappeared.
Twice.
And this time — Liv didn't know which was worse.
That he was dead. Or that he was alive.
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