But she didn't move.
She stayed there, curled into him like someone trying to hold back winter.
Atlas closed his eyes for a moment. Her weight was familiar, almost grounding. He could still remember when she first stood beside him—wild, unpredictable, and brilliant. Now there was something more fragile beneath her flame. Something tender.
He rested his chin gently atop her head.
Outside, thunder murmured far off in the sky. Distant. But not gone.
"Lara," he said after a while.
"Mm?"
"If another god came… and I failed to stop them… what would you do?"
She paused.
Her breath caught for a second. Then she answered.
"I'd stand beside you. Even if it meant dying."
Atlas smiled, faintly. "Let's not die. Not yet."
"Then don't face gods alone," she said, voice sharper now.
He nodded.
There was quiet again. Only the sound of wind brushing against the stone windowpanes. And in that silence, something settled.
Not closure. Not peace.
But a promise. Unspoken.
