The archive wing looked unchanged from the outside.
That was, Fang thought, the first and most deceptive sign that something had shifted. The outer corridor still carried the same cool hush, the same faint scent of paper dust and polished wood, and the same disciplined silence that made the institute feel more like a habit than a building. Yet after what they had seen below, the whole space felt as though it had been holding its breath, waiting for the result of their return.
Dr Sane led them back through the hidden access and into the archive room with her usual measured calm, though Fang could see the effort behind it now. The satchel in her hand seemed heavier than when they had left, not because it contained more, but because it now held the sealed truth they had just agreed to carry upward.
