The moment they reappeared in the Bureau, Trench collapsed to one knee, breath ragged. The Control Point hummed faintly behind them, its energy stabilizing from their sudden return. The sensation of the Astral Plane still clung to him—an electric charge in the air, a pressure at the back of his skull that refused to fade.
Darling steadied Emily, his grip firm on her arms. She swayed slightly, blinking as if adjusting to reality again. Her expression was unreadable—confusion, exhaustion, something else lurking beneath the surface. She looked at them both, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's not over."
Trench exhaled sharply, pushing himself to his feet. "No. It never is."
Darling glanced around, suddenly alert. "We need to check for contamination. No telling what might have hitched a ride back with us."
Emily shuddered. "I can still hear it."
Trench tensed. "The whispers?"
She nodded, pressing her fingers against her temples. "They're… faint. But they didn't stay behind."
Darling cursed under his breath, rubbing his face. "That shouldn't be possible. No link should persist outside the Astral Plane. Unless…"
"Unless whatever that thing was isn't just an entity of the Plane," Trench finished grimly.
A heavy silence settled between them. The air in the room felt denser than before, as if the residual presence of the Astral Plane hadn't entirely dissipated. Darling retrieved a small device from his pocket and activated it, scanning the area. The readings fluctuated wildly before stabilizing into something resembling normal.
"We need isolation," Darling said. "Emily, you should be monitored."
She stiffened at that. "No. I—I don't need to be locked up."
Trench held up a hand before Darling could argue. "She stays under observation, but not containment. Understood?"
Darling hesitated before nodding. "Fine. But we need to be cautious. If this thing left a mark, we can't ignore it."
Emily exhaled shakily. "It said we'd see. Whatever it meant… I don't think it was a threat. I think it was a warning."
Trench frowned, his jaw tightening. Warnings meant nothing good. Warnings meant something was coming.
And not for the first time since stepping into the Bureau, he had the distinct, unsettling feeling that the real danger hadn't even begun.