Three soft taps. No guards. No audience. Just me and the stupid pounding of my heart behind my ribs like it hasn’t learned better.
The chime hums. Then silence.
Then—
The door slides open an inch. Isolde’s eyes meet mine through the gap. No makeup. No command. Just her. And gods help me, she still looks like the only real thing in this polished metal tomb.
“What?” she asks, voice flat.
I rub the back of my neck. “I want a walk.”
She blinks. “That’s not a sentence I expected from you.”
“Not a raid. Not a heist. Just... one walk. With you.”
She doesn’t answer.
So I lean closer.
“No tricks. No weapons. No crew. You have my word.”
Her eyes narrow. “Your word means less than dirt right now.”
I nod. “Then I’ll give you more.”
I step back and put one hand to my chest.
“I swear. On his life. One walk. That’s all. Nothing more.”
Her jaw tics.
The silence between us buzzes like a live wire.
Finally, she sighs. “You pick the route.”
“No. You do.”
“Fine,” she says. “You get one hour.”
She disappears inside. A few moments later, she steps out in a long coat. No jewelry. Hair tied back. Practical. Controlled. But her eyes?—
They burn.
We walk in silence at first. Down the glimmering halls of the VIP tower, then onto the upper glidewalks. Nobody stops us. Either they know better or someone up high greenlit this.
The artificial park decks span six kilometers of green space: simulated gravity, real soil, synth-grown trees arching over winding paths. It’s a paradise that smells of damp leaves and ambition.
She walks two paces ahead.
I match her.
“You remember this place?” I ask quietly.
“I came here the night the first colony was approved.”
“You were wearing that purple dress.”
She glances at me sideways. “You remember the dress?”
