I take a slow breath, every word that follows scraping against something vulnerable inside me.
“You weren’t supposed to see that.”
“I know,” she says. “But I did.”
The quiet between us stretches, full of static and something else. Somethingalive.
“You know,” I murmur, “you’re not as cold as you think you are.”
“And you’re not as reckless as you pretend to be.”
“Don’t tell anyone,” I say. “You’ll ruin my reputation.”
Her lips twitch. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
We sit there, breathing the same recycled air, the hum of Whiplash’s core a steady rhythm under our feet. The Meld’s still faintly active — a soft pulse that feels like a heartbeat not quite willing to stop.
For the first time, I don’t feel like I’m burning alone.
CHAPTER 5
ARIA
I’m still shaking.
Not visibly—my hands are steady, my breathing is regulated, my voice would probably come out clear if I used it—but inside?
Inside I feel like a tectonic plate cracked down the middle and is still deciding whether or not to finish breaking.
The first real Meld didn’t just touch me.
Itrewroteme.
I felt him—every inch of Naull’s chaotic soul. Not just heat or noise or bravado. I felt the parts he doesn’t show. The ones he probably forgets are even there until something cracks open and they pour out.
He’s angry. Not at me. Not even really at the war.
He’s angry because somewhere deep down, he thinks he’s broken. Useless. Replaceable.
Like every victory is just him outrunning the moment someone finally sees he’s not enough.
And gods help me, it made meache.
Not just sympathy. Not just the engineer’s desire to fix what’s broken.
I wanted to reach through that link andholdhim.
That should scare the hell out of me.
It doesn’t.
It feels like the first real truth I’ve touched in years.
The cockpit decompresses with a hiss as we re-enter the subterranean hangar.
The storm’s howl fades behind us, replaced by the clean, regulated hum of base operations. Bright overhead lights flicker on as Whiplash’s plating cools. Metal groans under strain. The mech is alive, but barely.
I unhook from the neural rig and stagger back, breath catching like I’ve been running uphill for hours.
