Present.
I step up beside him. Close, but not touching.
He hands me the rag without a word.
Now, I’m cleaning Whiplash’s plating next to him, both of us moving in sync like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
After a few minutes, he speaks again. Low. Careful.
“You ever think about staying here?”
I blink. “On Rhavadaz?”
He shrugs. “Some of the engineers—Tos and Maklin—they talk about setting up a permanent post. Long-term base expansion. Outpost Epsilon. Something ridiculous. Dig in instead of evac when the tour’s over.”
I glance at him, searching.
“Would you?” I ask.
His jaw tightens. “Maybe. Not for the planet. For the work. For the team.”
“For Whiplash,” I offer.
He pauses.
Then, softer than anything I’ve ever heard from him?—
“For you.”
The words drop like gravity.
I look at him, fully now. And he meets my gaze like he’s been waiting to.
My pulse roars. I don’t breathe. I don’tmove.
Because this? This is the moment we don’t come back from.
Whatever happens next, we can’t pretend anymore.
He steps closer.
I don’t stop him.
And for once, the storm outside isn’t the loudest thing in the world.
CHAPTER 11
ARIA
The damn drone justcaught fire.
No warning. No dramatic countdown. No flare of protest.
Just a suddenwhoomp, a hiss of overheating circuits, and then—fire.Actual flames. Flickering, hungry, and licking up the containment wall like it had a vendetta against oxygen itself.
And it’s right next to my boots.
“Naull,” I hiss, backing up fast.
