The question hung in the air, heavy and suffocating.

Should we go into hiding?

Evelyn was the first to recover, her evaluator training kicking in even as her newly-restored vision swept across the faces of the other three women. "That's... a pretty big decision. One that we can't or rather shouldn't think about on the spot."

"Is it though?" Camille asked, her voice uncharacteristically subdued. She'd collapsed onto the couch, her wild energy completely drained. "I mean, look at where we are. The crowd outside is getting more violent. Our allies are backing away. Rey is broken in the bedroom. What exactly are we staying for?"

"Public perception," Evelyn replied immediately. "If we go into hiding, it confirms everything Mark said in that broadcast. That we're guilty. That we're running because we can't defend ourselves. That Reynard really is just the corrupt son of a corrupt father."

Sienna wrapped her arms around herself, her caring nature warring with practical concerns. "But if we stay, what happens? That crowd isn't going to disperse. They're going to get angrier, more aggressive. What if they break through security? What if someone gets hurt?"

"Someone will get hurt," Alexis said flatly, her medical knowledge making her voice clinical. "Mobs don't de-escalate on their own. Either law enforcement intervenes—which could turn this into a massacre—or the mob forces its way in. Either scenario ends badly."

Camille gestured toward the window, where the muted sounds of chanting still filtered through. "And that's just the physical danger. What about everything else? The coalition is probably falling apart as we speak. Every person we've worked with for the past three years is going to be questioned about their connection to Rey. Some will stand by us. Most won't."

"So we've lost," Sienna said quietly. "Is that what you're saying? That three years of work is just... gone? Because of one broadcast?"

"I don't know," Camille admitted. "Maybe...probably."

Evelyn stood abruptly, pacing across the living room. "Let's think this through systematically. What are the downsides of going into hiding?"

"Public perception, like you said," Alexis replied. "We look guilty. We look like we're running. Every news outlet will spin it as confirmation of Mark's allegations."

"The coalition will collapse faster," Evelyn continued. "Without Reynard's public presence, without someone to rally around, it fragments. People choose sides. Some follow us, most don't."

"We lose access to resources," Camille added. "This penthouse. The network we've built. The legitimacy we've earned. All of it becomes inaccessible if we're in hiding."

Sienna's voice was small. "We might never be able to come back. If we run now, there might not be a path to redemption. We could be fugitives forever."

The weight of that settled over them like a shroud.

"Okay," Evelyn said, her professional demeanor cracking slightly. "Downsides established. What are the upsides?"

"Reynard gets time to recover," Alexis said immediately. "Right now he's non-functional. Physically damaged, emotionally traumatized, systemically exhausted. He needs weeks of rest maybe even more, not some measly hours. Hiding gives him that."

"We can regroup," Camille offered. "Figure out a real response to Mark's broadcast. Not a panicked statement to a hostile crowd, but an actual strategic counter-narrative."

"We stay alive," Sienna said bluntly. "That crowd outside? They're not here for a peaceful conversation. Some of them want blood. If we stay, someone provides it."

Evelyn stopped pacing, turning to face them all. "So the question becomes: can we come back from this? If we go into hiding now, is there a realistic path to recovering what we've built?"

Silence stretched between them.

"I don't know," Alexis said finally. "Mark's narrative is powerful. Son of the World President, inheriting stolen power through nepotism and experimentation. It's simple. It's compelling. It fits every conspiracy theory people already believed about the System and power structures."

"And Rey can't exactly deny the core facts," Camille added grimly. "Hugo was his father. Hugo was the World President. Rey did get his Jobmaster title through Hugo's genetic manipulation, even if it was accidental. The connection is real."

"But the interpretation is wrong," Sienna protested. "Rey didn't choose any of that. He fought against Hugo. Against everything the World President represented."

"Doesn't matter," Evelyn said, her evaluator instincts making her voice harsh. "Public perception isn't about truth. It's about narrative. And right now, Mark controls the narrative."

"So we've lost," Camille repeated. "We can't come back from this."

"Maybe not immediately," Alexis said. "But given time? Given the right strategy? There might be a path. A narrow one. But it exists."

Evelyn nodded slowly. "Time. That's what we need most. Time for the initial outrage to die down. Time for people to start questioning Mark's version of events. Time for Rey to recover and formulate a response."

"Time we only get if we go into hiding," Sienna finished.

They looked at each other, the decision crystallizing without anyone explicitly stating it.

"We go into hiding," Evelyn said finally. "Not because we're guilty. Not because we're giving up. But because staying here gets us killed or arrested, and neither of those outcomes helps anyone."

"How long?" Camille asked.

"As long as it takes," Alexis replied. "Until Rey is functional again. Until we have a plan. Until the situation changes enough that returning becomes viable."

"Could be weeks," Evelyn warned. "Could be months."

"Could be never," Camille added darkly.

Sienna stood, her caring nature pushing through the despair. "Then we make sure it's not never. We go into hiding, we regroup, and we find a way back. Together."

The others nodded, and the decision was made.

Four hours passed.

The penthouse had grown quieter. The crowd outside had dispersed somewhat—not gone, but reduced to a more manageable if still hostile presence. News of Reynard not being home had spread, and without a target to focus on, some people had left to vent their outrage elsewhere.

But Reynard should have been awake by now. He should have left the bedroom.

In fact, his System should have returned by now. His nap would be an hour at most, so he did finish his three hours of remaining System cooldown.

The four women gathered outside the bedroom door, exchanging worried glances.

"You think he's awake?" Sienna whispered.

"Let me check first," Alexis said, opening the door quietly.

Reynard was still in bed. Still curled up. Moving slightly, so not unconscious, but clearly struggling.

"Rey?" Alexis said softly.

He turned his head slightly toward her voice. His eyes were open but exhausted. "Hey."

"Your System should be back," she said, moving closer. "Why are you still in bed?"

"Can't move," he said simply. "Too tired."

The others had filed in behind Alexis, all looking concerned.

"Your System is back though, right?" Evelyn asked. "You should have Superior Endurance again. That should help with the exhaustion."

"It does," Reynard admitted. "I'm not as tired as I should be. But I used... I used Camille's job title."

Silence.

"You what?" Camille said, her eyes widening.

"Temporal Job Copy," Reynard explained, his voice weak. "During the fight with Hugo. I copied your Job Maxer title. Used it to push all my skills to level ten."

Camille's mouth opened, then closed. "That's... that's possible? You can copy job titles?"

"Apparently," Reynard said. "New ability I got. But Job Maxer..." He trailed off, too tired to finish.

Camille let out a laugh—slightly hysterical but genuine. "Oh my god. Rey, that title will have you tired for days. Pushing every skill to maximum simultaneously? The energy drain is insane. I usually need like three days of sleep after using it for more than a few minutes."

"How long did you use it?" Alexis asked, her medical instincts immediately concerned.

"Five minutes? Maybe ten?" Reynard said. "Combined with Full Profession Sync."

"Jesus," Camille muttered. "No wonder you can barely move. Your body is probably eating itself trying to recover."

Despite everything—the crowd outside, the failed diplomacy, the collapsing coalition—Sienna found herself smiling slightly. "At least we know why you're still in bed."

"Silver linings," Camille agreed, her attempt at humor landing better than expected.

Alexis sat on the edge of the bed, checking Reynard's vitals with practiced efficiency. "You need rest. Real rest. Days of it."

"We need to talk about what happens next," Evelyn said gently. "We've made some decisions while you were asleep."

Reynard's eyes focused on her, waiting.

"We're going into hiding," Evelyn continued. "The situation here is untenable. The crowd outside, the failing diplomatic support, the public perception. We need time and space to regroup. To let you recover. To formulate a real response."

She waited for his reaction. Protest. Argument. Insistence that running was wrong.

But Reynard just nodded slightly. "Okay."

The easy acceptance was somehow more concerning than if he'd argued.

"We need a place," Sienna said. "Somewhere secure. Somewhere we won't be found immediately."

"And we need to get there without being followed," Camille added. "Which, given the crowd and the media attention, is going to be challenging."

Reynard was quiet for a moment, his exhausted mind clearly working through the problem despite his physical state.

Then, quietly: "I have an idea."

They all leaned in slightly, waiting.

"Someone who might accept us," Reynard continued, his voice growing slightly stronger. "Someone who has helped in the past. Who has some resources to their name and hopefully they are kind enough to want us back."

"Who?" Evelyn asked.

Reynard's eyes met hers, and despite the exhaustion, she saw calculation there. The strategist emerging even through the trauma and fatigue.

"Elliot," he said. "Back in Eastern Europe."

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