Coda Adagio

Lyra’s senses returned to her in fragments. A steady beeping sound pulsed through the air, soft yet persistent, keeping time with the faint rhythm of her own heartbeat. The sterile scent of antiseptics lingered, mingling with the cool, filtered air.
    Her eyes fluttered open to dim lighting—fluorescent panels embedded in a smooth ceiling, humming faintly. The walls around her were bare, a muted shade of gray, neither welcoming nor entirely cold.
    She pushed herself up into a sitting position, feeling the stiffness in her limbs as she tried to make sense of where she was.
    “Lyra,” said a familiar voice.
    She turned her head and saw her parents sitting on a sofa to her far left. She hadn’t noticed them at first, but now, as her mother leaned forward with teary eyes, her father already rising to his feet.
    “Thank God you’re finally awake,” her father said, as both her parents sat beside her bed. “You’ve been asleep for a week.”
    Lyra blinked, still piecing everything together. “Where are we? A hospital?”
    Her father hesitated. Instead of answering, Marvin asked, “What’s the last thing you remember?”
    Lyra frowned, searching her thoughts. “We were in the living room…” Then, in a sudden rush, it hit her. “Where is Jazz?”
    Her parents exchanged a glance—one weighted with unspoken sorrow.
    Marvin exhaled slowly. “We’re in a government facility,” he admitted. “At’tar took full control of you that day. You ran away... straight to the mall.”
    Lyra’s breath hitched.
    “The mall was destroyed,” her father continued grimly. “The entire area where the battle took place suffered heavy damage. That’s why the government stepped in. They took most of the people involved, especially you and the Resonants.”
    Lyra barely heard him. Fragments of memories surged forward—chaos, destruction, an overwhelming force beyond her control.
    “There were many injuries,” Marvin went on, his voice quieter now. “Most were security personnel and police officers... some didn’t make it. Gabe was among them.”
    Lyra closed her eyes, guilt pressing down on her like a weight. A long silence stretched between them.
    Then, softly, her mother said, “Jazz was the one who defeated At’tar and brought you back.”
    Lyra’s eyes snapped open. “Then—he’s here too?”
    Marvin shook his head.
    “Kenzie was the only one conscious after the battle,” he said. “He was the last one to speak to Jazz before…” He trailed off.
    Lyra’s heart pounded. “Before what? What do you mean he’s gone?”
    Marvin’s expression darkened. “Jazz isn’t who we thought he was. His true identity... he’s a Mal’ak from Eternal Resonance. His soul entered a human body—a baby that had died—allowing him to live as Jazz. But the Echo he wielded, the one powerful enough to defeat At’tar, came with a cost. Using it forced him back into his true form.”
    Lyra felt the air leave her lungs.
    “Mal’aks can’t exist on Earth,” Marvin finished gravely. “Jazz is gone. He’s back in Eternal Resonance.”
    Lyra stared blankly ahead, her mind struggling to absorb everything. The weight of her father’s words pressed down on her.
    Marvin reached into his pocket, his movements slow and deliberate. He pulled out a small object and held it out to her.
    “Kenzie told us to give this to you,” he said.
    Lyra hesitated before taking it. The moment her fingers closed around the familiar shape, her breath caught.
    It was a watch.
    The glass face was cracked, a deep fracture splitting across it like a scar. The metal frame bore scratches, signs of everything it had endured—of everything he had endured.
    She knew this watch.
    It was Jazz’s.
    Marvin’s voice was gentle but firm. “Jazz knew the consequences of his choice, but he did it to save us… to save you, Lyra.”
    Lyra clutched the watch in her trembling hands, her vision blurring. The tears came silently at first, warm streaks trailing down her cheeks, until a quiet sob escaped her lips.
    Her mother wrapped her in a gentle embrace, holding her as she wept.

*  *  *

A month had passed.
    Leeland, Keilee, and Kenzie stood in front of Professor Mackenzie's tomb, now joined by another—Gabe's final resting place. The air was still, carrying only the rustle of leaves and the distant hum of life beyond the cemetery’s gates.
    Leeland knelt, placing a bouquet of fresh flowers on Gabe’s grave. His voice was quiet, but filled with warmth.
    “I miss you, Gabe,” he said. “Why’d you have to join the Professor so soon?”
    Keilee crossed her arms, smirking. “Want me to crack your head with a nunchuck so you can join them?”
    Leeland turned to his sister, raising an eyebrow. “Hah! Kenzie told me how much you cried when the doctors were trying to revive me.” He grinned. “You love me that much.”
    Keilee scoffed. “Whatever.”
    A silence settled between them before she changed the subject. “How about Jazz? Do you guys think we’ll ever see him again?”
    “I hope so,” Leeland replied, his tone growing serious. “I never even got the chance to say goodbye… or thank him. We owe him everything.”
    Keilee sighed. “If there’s anyone I envy, it’s Jazz.”
    Kenzie glanced at her. “Why?”
    “Don’t you know? Mal’aks don’t age. He’s gonna be young forever!” she said with a teasing grin.
    Leeland rolled his eyes. “We were having a serious moment here.”
    Kenzie chuckled, but his voice was thoughtful. “I don’t think Jazz wanted that.”
    Keilee nodded, her playful expression softening. “Yeah.”
    Then she turned to Kenzie with a gleam in her eyes. “Hey, Kenzie… I just realized something. I never gave you a Resonant name, did I?”
    Kenzie tilted his head. “No.”
    Leeland groaned. “Here we go again.”
      “I love diminished chords. Maybe you can call me Diminished?” Kenzie suggested.
    Keilee wrinkled her nose. “Nah. Sounds too negative.” She tapped her chin, deep in thought.
    Then, as if struck by inspiration, she grinned. “You used to have a dark heart, but Al’aric redeemed you. So I’ll call you Augmented instead. Because Al’aric took you from a diminished state and augmented you.”
    Kenzie smiled, the name settling into place. “Augmented sounds about right.”

*  *  *

The muffled sound of the waterfall echoed softly through the vast expanse of Waterfall Cavern, blending with the ambient hum of the natural world. Jazz sat perched on a rock, his gaze drifting up toward the cavern's wide opening. Birds gathered there, their cheerful chirping filling the air, a stark contrast to the solemn stillness inside.
    “Enn’avy,” a voice called, breaking the peaceful quiet.
    “Enn’avy,” the voice repeated, this time louder. Jazz turned, and his eyes met those of Enn’ary, his Mal’ak father.
    “Is everything fine?” Enn’ary asked, his gaze thoughtful.
    Jazz scratched the back of his neck, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “I’m sorry, Father. I think I still need to get used to that name.”
    Enn’ary studied him for a moment, then nodded. “It seems you’re deep in thought.”
    Jazz sighed and looked back at the birds. “I was just listening to them,” he said softly. “I remember back on Earth, before I got my perfect pitch. I used to listen to the street sounds, trying to figure out the notes.”
    Enn’ary raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t have perfect pitch before?”
    Jazz chuckled quietly. “No. I bumped my head in an accident, and that’s when it all started.”
    “Do you know that all Mal’aks are born with perfect pitch?” Enn’ary asked.
    Jazz blinked in surprise. “No, I didn’t know that.”
    Enn'ary said. “Your accident on Earth might have been the catalyst for awakening your Mal’ak abilities.”
    “Looking back, I’d say it was a very fortunate accident,” Jazz mused, a soft laugh escaping his lips.
    Enn’ary’s eyes gleamed with a knowing look. “For all we know, it might not have been an accident at all.”
    Jazz turned to face him. “What do you mean?”
    Enn’ary leaned forward, his voice calm yet insistent. “Try to tie it all together. When you died here, your soul was sent to Earth, by accident. You had another accident that triggered your perfect pitch, which then connected you to an Echo. That led to you wielding the baton on Earth, something no mortal man could ever do. And in the end, it gave you the power to defeat At’tar and save the people you love.”
    “You think all of that was an accident?” Enn’ary remarked.
    “But with what you’re implying—” Jazz paused, choosing his words carefully. “Are you suggesting Al’aric planned for mother to revive me with dark enchantment?”
    Enn’ary shook his head, interrupting gently. “No. You’re misunderstanding. Al’aric is the ruler of all. His ways go beyond sin, mistakes, fears, and failures. Out of our limitations, he is able to weave for the good.”
    Jazz stayed silent for a moment, then nodded in agreement, a smile creeping onto his face.
    He lingered in thought for a moment longer before asking, “Father… do you think I’ll ever see my friends again?”
    Enn’ary’s expression softened, and he looked out toward the horizon, where the birds soared. “Reality tells us no,” he said, his tone somber. “But who can truly say? For all we know, it might be that…”
    The cavern fell into a long silence, broken only by the sound of distant water and chirping birds.
    “Your story,” Enn’ary continued, his voice steady but brimming with quiet certainty.
    “Has only just begun.”