“And everything they taught you was built by people who thought cruelty was a feature, not a bug.”
His eyes flicker.
“That word,” he mutters. “You keep using it.”
“Because that’s what it was.”
We stand there, breathing hard, the distance between us like a held breath that might shatter glass.
“You don’t get to carry this alone,” I say quietly. “Not the node. Not the Nine. Not the Alliance. Not whatever nightmarescenario you’re spinning out about in your head at three in the morning.”
He swallows.
“And you don’t get to make this worse by acting like I’m a child you need to trick into safety.”
He nods once.
Sharp.
Reluctant.
“I will tell you what I found,” he says. “When I am sure it won’t get you killed faster.”
“That is not an answer I like,” I reply.
“I know.”
We don’t touch.
Neither of us backs down.
The space between us hums and crackles…with more than just our argument.
CHAPTER 14
TUR
The supply corridor is barely wide enough for two people to pass without brushing shoulders, a low-ceilinged ferrocrete throat that smells like damp metal, industrial cleaner, and old heat baked into the walls by decades of unregulated power conduits humming behind them.
We’re halfway through it when my implant screams.
Not a polite warning.
Not a soft threat ping.
A full, predatory spike that hits my nervous system like a blade shoved under my ribs.
“Down,” I bark, already turning toward Kimberly.
The first shot cracks past where her head was half a second ago and blows a fist-sized crater into the wall behind us, pulverized concrete spraying into the air like shrapnel snow.
She drops hard.
I pivot on instinct and take the plasma round meant for her straight through my left shoulder.
The impact detonates white-hot.
It’s not pain at first.
