Rin opened her mouth to speak, but her communicator suddenly chimed — its holographic glow flashing across her face.

  It was from Vix.

  Vix:

  Rin’s cheeks flushed instantly. Her heart fluttered so wildly she could almost it.

  Then it hit her — the words, the meaning, the freedom.

  “YES! MISTER VIX ALLOWED YOU GUYS TO STAY!” she squealed, nearly launching her communicator across the room.

  “H-He did?!” Eddie stammered, blinking in disbelief.

  “MHMM!” Rin nodded so fast her ponytail nearly whipped her in the face.

  Eddie’s shock melted into a grin, and then—

  “YEAHHH!!!”

  Both of them screamed together, bouncing off the sofa in perfect sync. “SLEEP OVER!!!

  Chippy, who had been halfway through a slice of sandwich, dropped it mid-bite and immediately joined in. “WOOHOOO!

  The trio spun in circles like toddlers at a birthday party — Eddie’s bread slice flying out of his hand, Rin’s socks skidding on the marble floor, and Chippy’s laugh echoing louder than them both.

  “Okay, okay, okay—wait, wait!” Rin gasped, leaning on the back of the sofa and clutching her stomach from laughter. “We have to figure out we’re sleeping!”

  The laughter died down just enough for the silence to sink in.

  Three pairs of eyes shifted across the condo — the massive living room with its sleek marble, spotless white sofa, and gold-trimmed columns.

  Eddie blinked first. “You mean… this place actually other rooms, right?”

  Rin scratched her cheek nervously. “Um… technically, yes… but Vix’s room is off limits.”

  Chippy perked up, arms crossed. “Then we’ll just sleep in your room!”

  Rin’s face drained of color. “WHAT?! No, no, no! There’s only one bed! Maybe you can, but what about Eddie!?”

  Eddie blinked again. “…That’s fine. We’ll just—uh…”

  The three of them stared at each other. The sudden, shared awareness of “sleepover logistics” hit like a brick wall.

  The trio’s excitement gradually melted into curiosity as their eyes drifted toward the glass staircase spiraling down to the lower floor.

  “…Rin,” Eddie began carefully, peering over the clear railing. “You said you’ve never been down there before, right?”

  Rin swallowed, her voice small. “…Never.”

  Chippy clasped her hands together, eyes gleaming. “Well—there’s always a first for everything!” she sang, already marching toward the steps.

  “Chippy, wait!” Rin yelped, darting forward to grab her arm. She hesitated at the top, fingers nervously gripping the hem of her sweater. The translucent stairs reflected the dim ceiling lights beneath her feet, the floor below swallowed in shadow. “M-Maybe we shouldn’t… I-I don’t know…”

  Chippy stopped mid-step. The grin faded slightly when she caught the genuine unease on Rin’s face. Eddie caught up to them, looking between the two girls.

  Then Rin’s communicator chimed again. She jumped.

  Another message from Vix.

  Vix:

  Rin reread it. Once. Twice. The quiet disappointment settled in her chest like a sigh she couldn’t exhale. Then she shut the screen, closed her eyes, and muttered under her breath, “He’s always gone…”

  When she opened her eyes again, something in them had changed.

  “Welp,” she said, forcing a faint smile. “There’s always a first for everything, right?”

  Before either of her friends could stop her, Rin squared her shoulders and started down the stairs.

  Chippy blinked, then looked at Eddie. “Did she just—”

  Eddie simply shrugged and followed Rin downstairs.

  The glass staircase led to a hallway faintly illuminated by pale blue lights embedded along the floor trim. The glow reflected against the same glossy white walls and marble tiles as above, but the air here was heavier — quieter. The temperature seemed to drop the moment they reached the bottom.

  The corridor stretched forward, perfectly symmetrical, perfectly sterile. The sound of their footsteps echoed softly — too loudly — in the stillness.

  To the left ran another long window mirroring the one from the upper level, except the view outside looked smaller and more confined, as if even the city itself seemed distant here.

  Rin swallowed hard, taking a slow breath before she reached for the first door on the right. She opened it just enough to peek inside.

  A bedroom.

  Clean. Empty.

  Bare walls, no closet, no bathroom. Like a hotel room someone had checked out of years ago and forgot to clean out emotionally.

  She shut the door quietly and turned to the next one on the left. Same thing again — an empty, lifeless room, though this one had a small square window that looked out into the fading skyline.

  Rin shivered. There was something off about the silence down here — as if the home itself wanted to be forgotten.

  Finally, at the very end of the hall, stood the last door. Larger than the rest. Heavier.

  “This has to be his,” Rin whispered.

  She turned the handle and pushed it open.

  Vix’s bedroom was the complete opposite of hers. No warmth. No personality. No life.

  A single neatly made bed tucked into the corner, gray sheets perfectly folded. A metal desk sat at the center beneath a dim white lamp that buzzed faintly. Papers were pinned to every wall — layers of notes, schematics, and documents, all scrawled in different handwriting styles and languages. Some pages looked fresh; others were yellowed with age.

  To the left of the bed, a large corkboard glowed faintly with a floating holographic interface. The image shimmered above it — a paused scene of a vast desert city, labeled in crisp lettering:

  “Grand Army Command: Secure Login Required.”

  A blinking cursor waited patiently below the words.

  Chippy tilted her head. “Huh. Fancy screensaver.”

  Rin stepped closer, her reflection flickering across the holographic projection. “No… this isn’t a screensaver…”

  Eddie followed her gaze. “This… looks like grand military stuff…”

  The faint hum of the hologram filled the silence that followed — quiet, mechanical, and strangely lonely.

  Rin sighed, running her fingers through her frayed hair. “Well… looks like you can’t sleep in any of these rooms…”

  “It’s alright, Rin,” Eddie said, offering a small smile. “I can just sleep on the sofa. Or the floor.”

  “But… for the whole time you’ll be here?” she asked, a bit of guilt lacing her tone.

  He shrugged. “It’s alright. Not much different from home—only this time, I get to share it with my two best friends.”

  “Awwww, me? Your best friend?” Chippy cooed, pressing her hands to her cheeks dramatically. “You shouldn’t have! I mean, I it had to be me! You’re hopeless without me!”

  Eddie blinked. Then squinted. Then sighed deeply with regret.

  Rin giggled softly, shaking her head. “O-Okay… if you say so, Eddie.” She stepped closer beside him, their shoulders almost brushing. Eddie felt her warmth beside him — a quiet comfort that somehow made the cold of Vix’s sterile hallway fade away.

  When he’d first met Rin, she’d been like a lost puppy — following him everywhere, tripping over her own feet, constantly asking questions. But now… she felt grounded. Calmer. He smiled to himself. She really was his first friend. His one.

  “Alright,” he said at last, covering a yawn with one hand and stretching the other over his head, “I’m ready for some sleep now.”

  Chippy yawned in sync with him. “Saaaame. But I call the of your bed.”

  Rin laughed, already leading them back upstairs.

  #

  The explosion didn’t just shake the earth—

  it tore it open.

  A deep, guttural concussion rippled through the desert, splitting sand dunes apart like fabric being ripped by an invisible hand. The ground buckled beneath a soldier’s boots, tossing him against the charred remains of an overturned transport crawler. A second later, the aftershock hit—an earthquake so violent it cracked the stones of Giza itself.

  It was just dust. Blood. Ash.

  A choking, metallic fog that turned every breath into a punishment. The sky—normally a dome of sharp desert clarity—was swallowed by a sickening haze. Only the faint outline of the full moon struggled behind it, its light warped and useless.

  The moon couldn’t even touch Cairo tonight.

  Not anymore.

  A sound like a storm twisting in slow motion rolled across the battlefield. Purple wind—wind that shimmered like a liquid nightmare—spiraled across the ruins. Soldiers screamed as the double-helix vortex carved its way forward, shearing through what remained of the pyramids. Two ancient monuments collapsed, dissolving into avalanches of stone.

  Only one pyramid still stood.

  Barely.

  Cairo itself was unrecognizable.

  Half the buildings were sliced diagonally in perfect geometric cuts, as though the entire city had been carved open by a surgeon with a cosmic scalpel. The other half were burning, smoke vomiting out of them in dark columns. Flames crawled across the roads, across flesh, across armored vehicles. Even the sand was alight.

  “Move! MOVE!” someone shrieked. It might’ve been his captain. Or a stranger. They were all strangers now. Everyone wore the same expression—stretching toward terror, beyond terror, into a blank-eyed acceptance of death.

  The last regiment of Homeland Defense soldiers had regrouped behind what remained of a collapsed metro platform. A hundred men and women.

  Then eighty.

  Sixteen.

  Now… maybe six.

  Their weapons shook in their hands. Some fired beams of raw energy, blasting streaks of blue-white light across the sand. Others clung to old-world rifles because it was all they had left, firing blind into the swirling haze as brass casings rained down.

  None of it reached her. Not even close.

  Their spells fizzled mid-air like sparks dying in water. Their technomagic rounds curved away unnaturally, bending around some unseen pressure. Their bullets struck nothing. Her presence warped the battlefield itself, bending physics around her like a gravitational well.

  “Goddess preserve us…” someone whimpered.

  The wind sharpened.

  A tearing, whistling howl rattled their skulls. The purple storm curled upward, and for one brief moment, the sky parted—just long enough for them to see the moon.

  Just long enough for hope to flicker.

  Then the sky split open.

  A vertical line of violet light cracked down from the heavens like a sword stroke. Every soldier looked up at once. They couldn’t move. Couldn’t blink. Could only watch as the line widened, burning hotter and hotter until—

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  FWOOOOM

  A colossal beam of purple energy slammed into the battlefield fifty meters in front of them. The shockwave lifted bodies into the air like ragdolls, turning sand into glass and steel into shrapnel. The blast's roar drowned out every scream—

  then amplified them.

  A red mist erupted upward, hanging low and heavy above the ground like a blood-soaked fog.

  Rico felt his knees shake.

  “She’s too powerful…” someone stuttered behind him.

  A hand clamped Rico’s shoulder—rough, shaking, desperate.

  “R-Rico! Stop drawing in your stupid fucking diary and HELP US READY THE GINSEN MORTARS!!!”

  Rico snapped out of his trance, eyes wide as he saw the mortar rig—half buried, half melted, but still functional. Maybe. Possibly.

  He stood.

  His legs buckled.

  Because now—

  through the drifting mist—

  he finally saw her.

  Silhouetted against the ruined horizon.

  Calm.

  Unhurried.

  Floating alone through carnage she created.

  The woman who had single-handedly erased six million soldiers.

  She hovered above the last standing pyramid like a grim monument—arms outstretched, head tilted slightly, her silhouette wreathed in the spiraling violence of purple wind. The air screeched around her, a double-helix of energy twisting so fast it carved trenches through the sand. Even from miles away, faint giggles drifted across the deadened battlefield—soft, girlish, and horribly out of place.

  Rico shoved his diary into the inner pocket of his shirt with trembling fingers and rushed back to the Ginsen mortar. The ammunition sphere was heavy—painfully so—and he and the woman beside him had to heave their entire weight into lifting it. Once it clanged into place inside the tube, Rico scrambled behind the cannon, shoulders shaking, hand reaching for the trigger—

  A hand seized his shoulder.

  He jolted. It was her—the same woman who helped him load the shot. She was pale beneath the ash, her eyes fixed not on him, but on the hovering figure miles away.

  “Wait… wh-what if firing this doesn’t help?” she whispered. “What if this gives away our position and she just…” Her voice caught, breath hitching. “Kills us.”

  Rico would never forget the look on her face.

  It wasn’t simple fear. It was finality. That hollow, glassy stare people had right before they accepted something was over—even if their body hadn’t fallen yet.

  In movies and novels, despair was poetic. Pretty. Fictional.

  On this broken edge of Cairo, with the sky bleeding red and the wind smelling of scorched iron, despair was ugly. It was real. And Rico’s heart cracked seeing it reflected in the eyes of someone still warm, still breathing.

  He parted his lips—no words came. Closed them. Tried again.

  “…Hey,” he finally managed, voice cracking. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe this won’t make a difference. Maybe… maybe we shouldn’t fire.”

  Her lower lip trembled. “I-I don’t want to die, Rico…”

  “Y-You won’t!” he blurted before he could stop himself. He knew it was a lie the moment it left his tongue, but he couldn’t bear her breaking any further. “You won’t die today, I swear. Please… please don’t think like that.”

  “Rico! What’s the damn hold-up?!” another soldier screamed behind them. His voice was shredded raw from smoke and terror. “Fire at will! G-God… if only the president and prime minister just—just accepted the Grand Army’s help… we—” His breath hitched, and to Rico’s horror, tears streamed down the man’s soot-covered face. “We could’ve stood a chance…”

  Rico gritted his teeth, sweat and sand stinging his eyes. His finger curled around the mortar’s trigger. The target-finder optic mounted at the cannon’s head flickered, then locked onto the hovering woman above the pyramid. There was no need to search for her—she made no effort to hide. She was a beacon of purple annihilation in the sky.

  All he had to do was pull.

  He squeezed.

  “ALL UNITS! GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!!! CHANGE POSITIONS AND DEFEND YOUR LINES!”

  A voice cut through the battlefield like a whip. Heavy boots thudded into the crater as a soldier dropped down beside them, panting, ash-covered, wild-eyed.

  “Listen up!” he barked, sweeping his gaze over Rico and the six others crouched around the mortar. “I need ONE MAN to get the hell out of this crater and call for backup. Fuck the prime minister!”

  “Wh-What!?” The soldier who had been crying earlier choked out, wiping his face in disbelief.

  “You heard me!” the newcomer snarled. “If Egypt falls tonight—and it WILL fall—then we’re going to damn well avenge it!”

  “That’s insane! There’s no way they’d ever agree to that!”

  “That’s not the point!” he roared, grabbing the crying soldier by his collar and shaking him. “I’m not letting the idiots in office dictate this slaughter over ‘should-haves’ and ‘shouldn’t-haves’! We’re past that!”

  He shoved the man back, threw his rifle onto the sand, and drew his wand instead. Rico felt his heart leap into his throat. This man—this madman—was about to fight the strongest sorcerer the world had seen since—

  He swallowed.

  Rico had never witnessed bravery this raw. It looked nothing like heroism in movies. It was ugly. Furious. Final.

  The soldier pointed his wand at the sky. “If we go down, we go down buying time. And that means—YOU! SOLDIER! WHAT THE HELL DID I SAY ABOUT MOVING POSITIONS!? GET OFF THE FUCKING CANNON!”

  Rico stumbled backward, nearly falling over the pile of spent casings. “Y-Yes, sir!”

  “Name!” the soldier barked.

  “R-Rico?”

  “Rico! Get out of here and head north! We’ll keep this thing distracted so you can escape! You’re going to France! Find the Grand Army! Tell them this is beyond any fucking Marker in existence!”

  “B-But you’ll all die!”

  The man shook his head, a wild, exhausted grin on his face.

  “I’ll die. The rest?” He thumbed behind him at the others, every one of them shaking but standing their ground. “New plan. We fight to the bitter end and make sure get out of this hellhole and avenges Egypt. Is that understood?!”

  “Y-Yes sir!” they shouted in unison, voices cracking but strong.

  “Also,” the man said, laughing for a single, unhinged second, “stop calling me ‘sir.’ I’m just a private who’s about to be turned into a blood stain.”

  A few of the soldiers barked a broken laugh with him. And somehow—insanely—that tiny spark reignited something in all of them. A final ember of defiance.

  Rico felt it too.

  Before that feeling could fade—before fear reclaimed him—he ripped open his diary again with trembling hands and scribbled furiously across the next blank page.

  He didn’t know why.

  Maybe it was the only way he had left to stay human.

  Maybe it was the only way he could remember them.

  #

  The woman hovered lower, drifting down the air column with a grace that felt almost divine. Her violet drapes unfurled around her like slow-moving nebulae, each ripple bending the ash-choked wind. The crown resting above her brow—seven sharp points, each tipped with a ruby—glowed faintly, carving a glowing V-shaped shadow into her forehead.

  “I’ve never seen a sight so beautiful…” she breathed, arms closing around her own shoulders. Her voice trembled with delight, as if the carnage below were a sunrise she alone could appreciate.

  A soft footstep touched stone behind her.

  “That’s… wonderful, truly,” a man’s voice replied, low and cautious. “But you’re drawing attention. Far too much attention.”

  He stood on the slanted ledge of the last surviving pyramid, only a few steps below the pinnacle. White gloves. White robes. No insignia of any kind—nothing to tie him to any known army or faction. His presence was quiet calculation, pure innocent ambiguity.

  She rolled her eyes and glanced back at him. “You worry too much,” she teased. “Honestly? I’d welcome a real challenge.”

  “Challenge,” he echoed, unimpressed. “Neither that Staffire nor Nepton are challenges. They’re certain death.”

  She scoffed. “Nepton-schmepton. If he shows up, I’ll splatter the ground he stands on with his entrails.” Her tone softened into a trembling, dreamlike hum. “But ? The unpredictable one? Oh… he’s exciting…” A shiver of giddy anticipation ran down her spine.

  The man sighed, running slender fingers through his hair—each movement neat, deliberate. “You know I only caution you because I care for you,” he murmured. “I’d hate to lose you.”

  “I know,” she said lightly. “And I’ll be careful. It’s not every day you climb your way to Ace-level all on your own.”

  “You’re welcome for that, by the way.”

  She scoffed, flicking her wrist. “Jeez. Do you to rub it in?”

  He rolled his eyes. “I’m simply reminding you: if you catch attention, things won’t end well for you.”

  “Please.” She lifted her wand and pointed lazily toward the sky. “If he shows up, all I have to do is move faster than his little dispell technique. Which, by the way—”

  She flicked her wand upwards.

  The clouds tore open as a massive violet column slammed down onto a lone soldier below. His wand hadn’t even fully risen before the beam consumed him. When the light faded, only a scorched crater marked where he had stood.

  “—I already do.”

  He exhaled, long and tired. “I pray you’re right. Truly. Now… let’s finish securing Egypt, shall we?”

  She smiled at him—slow, curved, dangerously playful. “Libya after?”

  “Indeed.” He was already turning away, slipping back toward the ruined skyline without waiting for her answer.

  #

  A week passed in a gentle blur after Chippy and Eddie came to stay.

  Chippy turned out to be a menace in bed—hogging the entire mattress, kicking the covers off, and somehow always ending up diagonally across the sheets. Rin had been frustrated the first night… until she realized Chippy slept like a cuddly cat, seeking warmth and wrapping her arms around whoever was nearest. Eventually Rin learned to expect it. Sometimes they tangled together under the blankets, breathing softly in sync, and waking up pressed cheek-to-cheek. It was oddly comforting.

  Eddie, on the other hand, slept like a painting—still, quiet, serene. Rin often tried to stay awake just to look at him. His lashes rested softly against his cheeks, slightly damp. His lips parted as if he were whispering some silent dream. Stray strands of hair always fell over his eyes; she was tempted to brush them aside but never found the courage. She’d blink, blush, wonder what it might feel like to fall asleep beside him instead… and then drift off, carried by the peaceful rhythm of his breathing.

  Their days were filled with jokes, laughter, and moments where Eddie carried the two of them without even meaning to. Whenever he got excited about something—an old spell theory, a breakthrough in his research—Chippy would call him a nerd, Rin would giggle, and Eddie would keep passionately lecturing anyway. Rin admired that about him. He worked so hard, even during break.

  He’d politely ask Archas to bring him books—real books, thick ones—and she always obliged. She even visited often too. He’d sit cross-legged on the floor flipping through pages, chasing the mystery of Ra with furrowed brows and scribbled notes. He planned strategies for the next Grand Prix race, muttering possible routes and counter-plays under his breath. He wanted to win so badly… and Rin wanted nothing more than to support him.

  Chippy would drift in and out of consciousness during his rambling, only to suddenly wake up and make an outrageous claim that somehow turned out to be completely true. Rin adored that about her—the bravery, the boldness, the weird flashes of brilliance that always seemed to save the day. With the three of them together, the condo almost felt like Kormadyne again. Their own little lobby bench. Their own world.

  And through it all… Vix never visited.

  Not once.

  Rin didn’t message him either. She didn’t want to overstep—not after he’d finally given her that line of communication. If she pushed her luck, he’d probably take it back. So she tried to pretend she didn’t miss him.

  But sometimes, when the others fell asleep and the lights dimmed, she caught herself staring at her communicator.

  And she wondered if he was okay.

  If he ever thought about her.

  If he ever got the sudden urge to check in on her.

  If he cared even half as much as she wanted him to.

  He had to… right?

  Her mind drifted back to that night. When the pain in her abdomen was sharp and terrifying. When she didn’t understand what was happening. When she had called for him with panic in her voice—and he came running.

  He was exhausted. Barely awake, hair in disarray, dark circles under his eyes. And still… he stayed.

  He learned.

  He listened.

  He panicked for her.

  He worried over every tear she shed.

  He summoned that warm, snarling little creature and knocked it out cold just so she’d have something soft and heated to hold onto.

  Just to ease her pain.

  She remembered how his voice cracked with concern.

  How gently he placed the creature over her stomach.

  How he pet her hair afterward, trying to be calm even though he so clearly wasn’t.

  It made her giggle now—quietly, into her pillow—every time she thought about it.

  And she hoped… maybe… when the pain returned someday, he’d be there again.

  The same anxious, caring Vix who worried too much and tried too hard and somehow made her feel safe anyway.

  She missed him.

  Deeply.

  But on this cool December morning, with winter sunlight spilling through the tall windows, a familiar chime echoed through the condo followed by a familiar voice—

  “Alright, kids,” Archas announced as she strode inside, hands on her hips, eyes blazing with purpose,

  “It’s time to get out of this… darn house!”

  “R-Really?” Rin stammered.

  “Yes, really! I know you and Chippy can manage yourselves just fine, but this boy?” Archas jabbed a finger at Eddie. “I swear to god he has not changed since I started visiting!”

  Eddie’s cheeks burned. Instinctively, he lifted his shirt collar and sniffed. Even though he showered daily in Rin’s pretty pink princess bathroom, the scent wasn’t at all pleasant.

  “We’re going shopping,” Archas declared. “And Eddie? You’re getting new clothes.”

  “B-But, Archas! T-That’s too much! You shouldn’t—”

  “Ah! To hell with your pitiful excuse of parents!” she snapped, cutting him off. “They are not worthy of titles as sweet as ‘mother’ and ‘father’ coming from your voice. So instead, call me

  Eddie froze, mouth parted.

  Something warm — foreign, frightening, and unbelievably gentle — bloomed in his chest. He didn’t know how to process it. He just stood there, swallowing hard.

  “And that goes for you too, Rin.” Archas turned to her, arms crossed. “As far as you’re concerned, I’m your mother for now. That Vix of yours is embarrassingly absent.”

  Rin covered her mouth, her face flushing.

  She knew Archas had a point — she couldn’t defend Vix on this one.

  But the way Archas stood there, firm and unyielding, demanding the right to take care of them…

  She really was like the strict, overprotective mothers from the storybooks Eddie always picked out for her.

  And Rin… didn’t hate it.

  “Come, come! Jarvis informed me there’s a snowstorm rolling in tonight. We ought to finish everything before it hits!” Archas herded them toward the door with urgent sweeps of her hands.

  Chippy and Rin scrambled into their clothes, while Eddie simply slipped on his jacket — the extra piece of clothing he owned at Rin’s place.

  Archas paused, looked him up and down, and shook her head in exaggerated disappointment before reaching out to ruffle his hair.

  Eddie flinched at the initial touch…

  but then, almost involuntarily, leaned into it.

  The moment was small — but Rin noticed. She wondered if…

  And then, before any of them really processed how quickly Archas moved when she was on a mission, they found themselves stepping into the famous Woodfield Mall in Schaumburg, a suburb of Chicago.

  It was far grander than any of them expected.

  A sprawling grounded complex connected by a sleek sky-train to the floating extension suspended above it — because of course everything in the 2150s to float.

  Archas wasted no time, dragging the kids through one name-brand store after another. At first, she focused entirely on Eddie, carrying armfuls of shirts, jackets, and pants for him to try.

  But somewhere along the way, “Eddie only” turned into “all three of them,” and Archas began piling clothes into Rin’s and Chippy’s arms too.

  Rin couldn’t fully process the pile of clothes in her arms or what they were supposed to mean. Her mind wouldn’t settle long enough to understand it. Every time she tried, something new pulled her attention apart—another store, another wall of colors, Chippy’s loud mix of whining and gasping, Archas firing off three different questions at once about shirts that weren’t even for her.

  Sometimes they were.

  Sometimes they weren’t.

  It was chaos.

  But the thing that caught Rin’s attention the most wasn’t the mall.

  It was Eddie.

  He kept looking away. Staying quiet. His cheeks reddened at the smallest gestures when Archas singled him out with a softness Rin didn’t have a name for. It was nothing like what Steve had ever done for her.

  No—this was a new layer entirely.

  Gentler.

  Deeper.

  …warm. Grounding.

  More than once, when they drifted a few steps behind the others or ended up momentarily alone in a store aisle, Rin opened her mouth to speak to him. To ask something. Anything.

  But every time, Archas or Chippy swept them apart again before a word could form.

  And through all of it, one single phrase kept looping in her mind—Eddie’s voice, quiet and trembling:

  “…I never want to go home…”

  She understood that feeling.

  She understood that look in his eyes, that heaviness in his throat she herself didn’t have, that shake in his voice when something hurt so deeply he’d rather face —danger, punishment, the unknown—than even imagine returning home.

  By the end of the day, just as the first trickles of snow began to fall—exactly as Jarvis had predicted—Rin found herself carrying three full bags of new clothes.

  Chippy had two.

  Eddie had six.

  Archas stayed with them at Vix’s apartment until Eddie’s parents arrived to pick him up. For some reason, she’d insisted that Rin and Chippy stay in Rin’s room when the handoff happened.

  Rin never learned why.

  But judging from Eddie’s expression before he left—tight shoulders, lowered eyes, forced smile—she had a feeling Archas had known exactly what she was doing.

  Once he was gone, Archas kissed the crown of Rin’s head, said her goodbye, and slipped out the door.

  Not without leaving one last gift: her contact information, neatly added to Rin’s communicator.

  That night, Rin didn’t bother unpacking any of the clothes. Benneth and Vix had already bought her things in the past—none of that felt new.

  But this…

  The thing she couldn’t stop thinking about—the thing keeping her awake—was the communicator pressed tightly against her chest. She hugged it with both arms as she lay curled on her warming bed, the blankets pulled up to her chin.

  Through the open window, a full moon had risen over the skyscrapers, bathing her room in pale, gentle light.

  Rin watched it quietly, letting its glow soften the leftover noise in her mind.

  It was a quiet night.

  And the rest of her break passed just as quietly.