They come. Explosions are all I hear. Only explosions.
Protect. Save. Hold.
‘Run.’
Blocked. Cut off. Interrupted.
New data. Unverified. The system rejects it. Maintains prior conclusion. He left. I did not survive.
Correction: I did survive.
Condition altered. State changed. Cause—him.
Rage spikes. Sharp. Immediate.
“You,” I growl. Everything aligns behind it. Everything locks into place. “You left me.”
Systems stabilize around the statement. Correct. Certain. Absolute.
For the first time since the hunter arrived I am not focused on survival. I focus on him. Only him.
Silence fractures. Not an absence of sound.
Everything is moving. Everything shifting.
Sand shifting, weapons striking, the hunter recalibrating under coordinated attack, none of it matters.
Focus locked. Target fixed. Him.
He does not advance. He stands. Watching. Assessing. Measuring.
Not as unknown. Not as a threat. As recognition confirmed.
Not possible. I step forward. My body is unstable. Distance closes. The others react. Weapons shift. Angles change. I register it. I do not respond. Secondary. All secondary.
He raises a hand. Minimal motion. Immediate effect. The others hold. They obey. Command authority confirmed.
Data aligns. He has not changed. That is wrong. Everything else has changed.
“You left me.”
The words are clearer. Stronger. The structure holds around them. Reinforced.
He does not flinch. He does not deny. He does not explain. He watches. Still. Controlled. Waiting.
I take another step. Close enough to see the details. Scars. More than before. Older. Newer. Layered. Survival markers. He should not have survived.
I did not.
Correction—I did.
State altered.
Cause—him.
Rage spikes again. Harder.
“You left me,” I repeat.
