Still feels like pressure behind my ribs, like I’m already being dragged toward the next battlefield.
He looks at me again. This time, the wariness is gone. Replaced by something deeper. More personal.
“You broke orders, son.”
I nod.
“You ignored a priority recall. Let a rogue node burn.”
“Still burning,” I rasp.
He sighs. “You know what that means.”
“I do.”
Rhea’s hand finds mine. Tight. Shaking. “No,” she says.
Dowron’s voice softens. “I could court-martial you right here.”
I nod again.
He smiles. Sad. Tired.
“But that’d be a waste of resources.”
My chest tightens.
Rhea whispers, “What does that mean?”
Dowron taps the table twice. A concealed drawer opens. Inside—an old-style mission chip. Dark silver. No markings. No trackable data. Just an ID burn etched so deep even the Combine won’t crack it.
He picks it up. Offers it.
To me.
“Last mission, Valtron. No records. No backup. Off the books. You take this… you vanish. No return pings. No chain of command. You become what theythinkyou already are.”
I don’t hesitate.
I take it.
Rhea gasps like I’ve stabbed her.
Dowron nods once. “Deliver it to the Reaches. Past the Fold. Find Maela Rix. She still runs the Ashline Conduit. She’ll know what to do.”
“You trust her?” I ask.
“I trust her to hate the Combine more than she hates me.”
I tuck the chip into my bracer.
Rhea steps between us. “Stop. Both of you.”
Her voice is steel.
Dowron pauses.
I meet her eyes.
