Chapter Text
_______________
Having his arms and legs restrained to a bed, in a guest room at the Onychinus N109 base definitely isn’t something Xavier expects to happen to him in his long life. Yet, reality often takes its turn at throwing unwelcome surprises.
Being dragged unconscious against his will after taking down the Wanderers that had appeared outside Sylus’s other base was not ideal, and now waking up to this highly undesirable circumstance in Sylus’s usual base is also, definitely not ideal.
He has at least an ounce of energy to give to being annoyed at this, despite the overwhelming pull of exhaustion that threatens to drag him under once again.
His annoyance lasts for a few seconds before retreating enough for his mind to immediately return to the worry he has for you. Did Sylus find you yet? Where were you? Were you safe?
Much that had happened in the past 24 hours was a first for the silver-haired Hunter across his long life.. The situation - being weak enough to be held against his will just had never been a reality before for Xavier. Annoyance turns into frustration that grows rapidly, and surges into irritation. But he holds it all in, taking a deep steadying breath. Wasting energy on anger probably isn’t a smart move.
He huffs a tired sigh.
His eyes narrow and flick over in annoyance once more towards the red and black tendrils of pulsing energy restraining him to the bed firmly. The faint hum of Sylus’s energy Evol vibrating at a certain frequency is audible. Xavier gives a testing tug with his right arm, but the motion is futile, nothing moves by even an inch. He already knows Sylus’s Evol is at work and a force to be reckoned with, but that doesn’t mean he has to be accepting of it.
His mouth tilts down in a tight frown and sharp blue eyes shift around, adjusting to the dim lighting. He takes in his surroundings with cold precision, scanning the bedroom in detail. If not for knowing that he was technically now “in the care” of Sylus - who in the grander scheme of things can now be considered an ally versus a foe, he would have already escalated efforts to escape. By any means available.
Freeing himself would not have been much of an issue for Xavier normally, but he feels it - the emptiness in him, the space within where his reserves of Evol should lie.
There is barely a spark left.
The fatigue and exhaustion that strums across his body is woven in deep too. Sleep still pulls at the frame of his consciousness heavily, his physical body knowing full well that it hovers at the edge of his absolute limits. He would have been knocked out for longer if not for the urgency of the situation at hand that had forced his mind awake. His guard is up given the circumstances.
He hears the door to the bedroom open, and turns his head immediately. Sylus comes into full view, wearing a black sweater and grey slacks. This is definitely the home base, Xavier thinks, noting the more casual attire on Sylus. In the brief moments of the door being open, he picks up on two more voices coming from down the corridor.
“Jeremiah and Isaiah,” he confirms quietly in his mind.
Sylus closes the door. His gaze sweeps over Xavier, assessing silently. An odd beat of silence passes between them. It was surprising enough that Sylus had brought Jeremiah and Isaiah to the Onychinus base, but there was even more to be said and discussed between them.
Xavier comments on the situation first.
“Since you always have eyes in the form of your crow on her and on many other things, I'm sure your information surpasses that of the Hunter Association’s. Have you found her? Where is she?”
Red eyes meet blue ones squarely.
“I’m not a stalker. I don't have surveillance on her 24/7 like the Colonel in Skyhaven even when he isn’t around to review the footage. I also trust her ability to defend herself - what happened at Charon made that clear...I’m sure you roughly know what had gone on then,” Sylus pauses.
“But I admit, there has been a misjudgement of circumstances this time round.”
Xavier goes still, his heart drops and tone goes flat.
“So you haven’t found her.”
“You and the Artist, always treating her like a precious and delicate jewel, hanging on her every word and movement…” Xavier stiffens at Sylus’s words, his eyes turning a shade colder.
Had he heard that many of their conversations? His mind seethes in annoyance, despite knowing this was of course, likely the case given Sylus’s track record.
“But she’s a diamond, she won’t break so easily. And no, we haven’t found her, not in the 6 hours you’ve been knocked out.” A tightness lingers in Sylus’s voice, he isn’t happy about the situation either.
“We’ve roughly pieced together what has happened, but her location is still unknown,” he takes in a breath, and lets out a short sharp sigh. He isn’t used to this - explaining, providing details to another. But he presses on.
“The good news is, she’s likely not in immediate danger at the moment…” his glances towards Xavier’s wrists and then back to his face, meeting the icy blue gaze steadily. “Because of you.”
“Soren likely placed these cuffs on you so you can be easily used as a ‘power source’. EVER has had their eye on your Evol and the connection to her for a while now, which I'm sure you’re at least remotely aware of. And, they’ve tested it before. It appears they have a new experiment they’ve been keeping underwraps, and finally got to her to make it happen - Project Stasis.”
Xavier frowns.
That name, did he see it somewhere before? Yes - a couple of rouge files that got wiped in a recent update to the Association’s system that got passed off as a bug… He and Jeremiah had thought it odd, but there was not much that they had managed to surface since then, despite investigating. They had strangely also been unable to retrieve any of the deleted files. For the hidden founders of the Association, with supposed unmonitored access, this had all been a baffling situation to be in. Recent events had also left them occupied… and now evidently the Hunter’s Association is now more deeply compromised than they had thought.
“We can’t predict if this situation will change quickly for her. You can read the findings for yourself - it’s not much, yet. We need to start moving on the leads we have, but you are also at risk now. Your florist and cousin filled me in on what happened with Soren before you came swinging your sword at me. We can’t guarantee her long-term safety, and have to start moving.”
Xavier catches the flicker of anger and worry that goes past Sylus’s brow. It disappears quickly, and his expression goes back to the usual mask carried by the N109 Zone’s boss. He is saying much more than usual and being accommodating - a stretch from the way he usually operates, all because of you.
Sylus moves to place a lavender colored tablet beside Xavier, the report stored on the device lights up and comes into view before him.
“They are likely keeping her in a new area managed under a distant, or unknown affiliate. Dimitri’s old team is involved, but most of their lackies are new - almost like ghosts.”
“And your associates don’t have more intel?” Xavier drops the question lightly.
“Nothing much to squeeze or terrify out of rocks,” comes the flippant reply.
“I suggest we end the hostility and contact our Artist, Doctor and Colonel right away. They’ll be able to help speed things up. We have to set up monitoring for you given the situation, and get going on uprooting those EVER affiliate locations till we get to her.”
Sylus charts out the plan systematically and taps his phone screen, glancing at the time - 3.33AM. Already a new day and a new dark morning, dawn was coming in too fast.
A pause slips in again between the two.
“Is this how you treat your guests then?” Xavier asks, voice quiet and innocent, but with a hint of sarcasm. His head tilts at an angle as the question lands.
Sylus looks at Xavier, mildly amused.
“I’m assuming you don’t have enough energy to turn the tables or pull a surprise right now. But I don’t take chances with Lumiere given our… history. So you’ll have to forgive this chosen arrangement after you passed out,” he gestures briefly to Xavier’s bound arms and legs.
Xavier’s eyes cut towards him immediately, a glare forming - glacial and pointed, bristling at the mention of his masked alter ego.
“Was all that truly necessary?” His voice drops an octave lower than usual.
“Let’s make an agreement between… partners, then. We both want the same thing. Her, back safe. If I have your consent, let’s establish a truce. We’ll skip past this stage of navigating trust and circling each other.”
“We’re wasting time, Sylus. You have my word, and you know it.”
Half a smirk forms on Sylus’s face as the energy restraints around Xavier’s wrists and legs disintegrate. Teasing the legendary hunter is an extremely appealing indulgence he has just discovered but can’t afford to enjoy right now, not with you compromised. Xavier’s reactions do mirror the bristling quality you often show - like a provoked feline, when cornered mercilessly.
“I’ll bring in your anxious duo to see you, we need to discuss next steps for the Backtrackers as well given the situation. You are all at risk of being dragged into EVER’s plans around harnessing Philosian Evols… well,” he lets out a short dry laugh and looks at Xavier pointedly.
“At least the ones who aren’t working with EVER, yet.”
Xavier meets Sylus’s look. That statement is not a surprise, he and Jeremiah have been trying to track these said Backtrackers down for a while now. The same ones who recently targeted you and him during the world transplant attempt Soren made. There was progress, but it would take careful planning to weed them out and take them down.
“Let’s contact our other three… teammates, once I get everyone in here.” Sylus sighs more deeply this time, and leaves the room.
This was a failure, a situation he never quite expected would happen.
After Charon, he had taken more precautions knowing that Dimitri’s associates would be hunting for you one way or another, and likely more persistently. Seeing you fight alongside him, with the thrill of the battle singing in your veins as you stood side by side grew his adoration and confidence in you. The shared moments while on the move never saw him lowering his guard and only heightened his need to hoard and protect you with all that he possessed…but what…
His thoughts pause with an intake of breath, realisation dawning on him.
You. You are the variable outside of his calculations. You must have agreed to be a part of this in some way.
There was barely a percentage of possibility that a scuffle, or any kind of resistance from you would have not caught the attention of any one of the five of them. Else your acquaintances, teammates - their interference would have helped bring attention to the fact that you were in danger.
Help would have arrived quickly, knowing the men that circled your life.
Something, someone, some situation, must have convinced you to cooperate. Allowing for enough time for things to slip under the radar. Your last mission status, following what Jeremiah had shared was evident of that - it directed Xavier’s attention to him and the N109 Zone, didn’t raise any alarm bells internally earlier, and would have been seen as something routine to everyone else in your circle and beyond.
He clenches his fist tightly in anger and resolve before continuing down the corridor to get the two Philosians who are now arguing in his living room. He wasn’t going to allow the Universe’s cruelty to get in the way again. If approaching this situation in a way he had never done before - involving everyone who cared enough for you to put themselves on the line to get you back was the way forward, he was going to make it happen.
He wasn’t going to let you go or leave you vulnerable, not after your shared childhood in the cosmic arena, he had promised.
_______________
Xavier closes his eyes for a respite the moment Sylus steps out. He rotates his wrists, stretching them out with practised ease from training and muscle memory. He does the same for his legs and flexes to test his range.
Scenes replay vividly in his mind as he plows through the memory of the past day - the assembly of the remaining Backtrackers, the update on the protocol, the ambush by Soren, the confrontation - how the wrist cuffs had snapped into place when he got distracted by the Alterum guards and ensuring the safety of the Traceback II crew.
He had found an opening to teleport folks out to Jeremiah’s van where they could launch a short distance warp to get the group away from the location. He had just needed to distract Soren for a few moments, keep him moving, talking. He had already sent word over their comms for Jeremiah to get things ready for the retreat.
But the Alterum guards had launched an attack without warning, and closed in on the small group present. Xavier and the rest who had assembled had been pushed forward, closer to Soren, who then slipped to the side just as the onslaught intensified.
It was chaos. Blows were exchanged, with Evols flying to intercept attacks, weapons out and clashing with the ominous Wanderer mutations.
Some equipment that had laid at the corners of the dome had sunk into the ground via automated machinery, immediately closing off to any damage that might be incurred. They hadn’t gotten a chance to note what type of lab equipment it had been.
He had caught Isaiah’s glance as the two of them threw up towering walls of light to block the Alterum from advancing. An added measure.
Someone had then fallen to the ground nearby - Xavier had rushed to his side to help, eyes still locked and focused on the wall of light to hold it steady. With a jerk of his head towards the open exit, he signalled for the rest of the Backtrackers present to leave.
The fallen Backtracker had then held onto Xavier’s arms firmly, seemingly to brace himself. Too firmly for comfort, but Xavier had brushed his actions off as a result of nerves in the heat of battle. His eyes were still fixed on the retreating figures of the Backtrackers, with their Vice Captain - Sullivan, leading the way.
Soren had then appeared behind Xavier with the help of an Alterum guard, it seemed to have teleportation powers. Soren controlled it with ease all the while - signals and voice commands were obeyed without hesitation. It followed all of it seamlessly.
The cuffs were snapped on before Xavier realised.
The moment it happened, Xavier’s head snapped sideways to look at the Backtracker, eyes narrowed. Disbelief and surprise clouded his focus briefly. But the now EVER operative had immediately lunged towards a beaming Soren and his Alterum guard, without a single glance back at the Philos Prince. In a breath, the three figures had teleported away, fading from Xavier’s sight.
Triumphant.
That was the look that shone in Soren’s eyes as he faded from view. Xavier was the goal, a hazard to target, but the operation had been a success. Soren’s retreat was uncharacteristically quick after getting the cuffs on Xavier. His motives were unclear then, but now painfully obvious.
Xavier’s hunter watch had lit up just as he turned to quickly follow the rest of the Backtrackers out to Jeremiah’s van. A mix of gunfire and Evol exchanges roared overhead and across to keep the Alterum guards back. He would have to deal with the cuffs later. Getting everyone out was of top priority and they couldn’t risk the chance of another ambush or risk lives by going on a full offense to clear out all the Alterum.
But he turned his attention to the update from his watch as soon as he heard the alert sound of a search and rescue being called. He saw your name and face briefly flick past the hologram, followed by your mission report and status.
A chill of dread swept through him. His heart dropped like lead.
No it can’t be. Not you. No, please…
Everything else from then had gone by like a blur.
Yelling voices from Isaiah and Jeremiah - as they gathered everyone onboard and plotted out the path to the outskirts of Linkon. Sullivan was already at the controls. Xavier had glanced at both of them and raised his hand with his hunters watch, mouthing your name. Their eyes widened, matching frowns sketched across their foreheads, trying to take in all that was happening.
What was Xavier doing in the middle of a retreat from hostiles?
Xavier stepped out of the van and closed the doors behind him, unleashing a blast of light to push the remaining Alterum back by a few more paces. Two pairs of eyes widened further as they caught sight of twin rings of red lighting up around Xavier’s wrists.
Shit. Xavier had been compromised.
That thought echoed between the two crew mates who never got along, as they turned to look at each other. Determination though was locked in their expressions as they continued the evacuation plan and blinked out of the location shortly after. The Philos van disappeared quickly after a surge of energy.
Xavier had felt the pull of his Evol draining away again as he teleported directly to the outskirts of the N109 Zone just as the Philos van warped. He had then immediately made his way to Sylus’s alternate base - coordinates and path marked in his mind from a long time ago.
So, they had been lured into one of Soren’s labs. He’s obviously done with that location though - Xavier concluded.
The rendezvous point had been proposed by one of the Backtrackers. Details had been encrypted, with legitimate information provided on the location, its background and a risk assessment. Thorough, details aligned, all according to standard protocol. An agreement was made, and they had all arrived at the set timing and date. Only to have things escalate in their faces after the initial verbal update on shifting to Protocol 3…their last resort.
Soren waltzed in then, expectantly, surveying the room.
He knew the terrain well, and had the Alterum guards placed beforehand, ready, with instructions given. Xavier had noticed as well that two other Backtrackers had slipped away in the flurry of the conflict, in addition to the one that had gone with Soren.
Had he been too hasty and careless even with the meet-up? He was losing his edge - maybe the 200 over years on earth was truly catching up to him, Xavier thought sarcastically.
Then the draining of his Evol started intensifying, but he had pushed on, spurred by the need to save you. And everything else then unfolded as dramatically as his day had already been.
_______________
“Any other Philosian casualty would have sufficed, temporarily. You were the prize, apparently, and they got you. Not like you didn’t literally hand yourself over on a platter!” scoffed Isaiah.
“You’re getting soft and weak, Xavier.”
He glares daggers at Xavier’s now inclined form on the bed.
The silver-haired hunter had just tried to fully sit up to talk to the group gathered in his temporary bedroom, but had failed, miserably. Swinging his legs over to the side of the bed with all the energy he could master, in an attempt to use the momentum to get upright, only launched a new wave of dizziness and exhaustion. His vision spun and though he had extended his right hand out to support himself, he had miscalculated the placement, and had instead, fallen unceremoniously back onto the bed with a resounding poof.
An annoyingly plush, comfortable and inviting bed, by Xavier’s standards. Very unexpected for the Onychinus base.
Luke and Keiran clear their throats, stifling a laugh at Isaiah’s outrage and the whole scene with Xavier. Mephisto lets out three sharp disapproving caws, mechanical eye homing in on Xavier’s fallen form on the sheets.
Jeremiah sighs. “Aside from all of us here and Sullivan, we have to be wary of the rest of the Backtrackers. For the ones who wish to stay out of this, they’ll need to be remotely informed of the danger. We’ll do it by encrypted broadcast. EVER could still get to them, but we can’t risk ourselves either, they’ll have to fend for themselves. Three have clearly shown their alliance with Soren and who knows how many more might have been convinced by his delusions.”
Sylus listens silently, deep in thought, all the while observing Xavier.
Could there be a pattern to the drain of his Evol? It might have something to do with the state you are in and could provide information on how to best navigate the situation.
“Oh great. So Soren has a new occupation now? Farmer of Philosian Evols? What’s this mad scientist going to do now? Try to get to all of us and lock us in an agriculture lab to….” Isaiah rants as he rolls his eyes.
“Broadcast the encrypted warning to the Backtrackers, Jeremiah. We’ll cut contact from here to manage the risk. Anyway, the protocol update has been provided, those who are still aligned with us know what to do,” Xavier calmly interjects.
Xavier looks down at his wrists. Reconciling with a reality that had returned so soon with additional stakes is a tough pill to swallow. He knows too that he can’t help in the way he usually does, not in this depleted state, and for who knows how long. It was stifling.
“If we’re done bantering, I'll call the Artist,” Sylus says.
He picks up his phone, flicks through his contacts and selects one before pressing the dial button.
The dial tone rings once, twice. Someone picks up.
“Looking for me?” Rafayel drawls.
“Yes. Pleasantly surprised you picked up so quickly, Mr Rafayel,” Sylus returns casually.
“Had a hunch this unknown number would hail from an excellent acquaintance to have. I might need to think about changing my number though, it seems like you got it too easily.”
“Did you get anything of interest from The Nest?” Sylus asks.
“Word that a very valuable asset - one that has been pursued for a while now, has been acquired. EVER agents have refocused their efforts on Aether Core fragments and strong Protocores. Information is annoyingly scarce, I’ve had to use some force so far across the night and my hands are tired. I’m sure our Boss of Onychinus has better news to share?”
“It’s light on my end, but we have a link through Xavier, the Backtrackers and the Hunter’s Association.”
“Let me up into the base then, aren’t we having a group huddle?”
Rafayel’s face appears on Sylus’s phone as live footage from the security cameras covering the entrance of the Onychinus base gets sent over. He gives a small wave towards the main frontal camera, long fingers and palm barely moving. His lilac strands of hair peek out from a grey hoodie, and a black leather jacket covers his frame above it. His crisp suit from earlier is nowhere to be seen.
Sylus’s mouth tilts upwards in a challenging smirk. “I might need to think about changing the Onychinus bases, it seems like they have turned into a casual community club circuit everyone knows of.”
He lets Rafayel in, disarming the defences temporarily to allow Rafayel into the elevator, before switching things back on. The Lemurian is soon walking down the dark corridor of the base and enters the room, guided by Keiran.
On stepping in, Rafayel takes in the crowded bedroom and fights a laugh that threatens to punch through his lungs despite the situation. He looks from left to right, a finger tapping his forehead in mock assessment.
“One Mafia Boss, a pair of masked twins, one smart mechanical crow, two aliens and Lumiere. Perfect. Who else have we got in this recruitment drive?”
“Make that three aliens - one has yet to be brought here. Add the Doctor and Colonel too, once we get to them, and assuming their consent. Additional trusted persons to be confirmed,“ reports Luke.
“So what are we waiting for?”
Rafayel picks a spot on the couch facing the bed and sits, leaning back causally. His black turtleneck rides further up as he stretches his neck from left to right. With fingerless gloves on, ripped jeans and boots, he looks barely recognisable from his public persona, aside from his face and hair.
“I’ll call Zayne, he’s done some work with the Hunter’s Association before and should remember me.”
Xavier reaches over to pick up his phone that’s laid by the bedside table, His right hand trembles violently with the effort, but he forces it to still, and clears his throat. His face is a neutral mask, but seems to have gone paler over the past few minutes. Rafayel notices and so does Sylus. Xavier looks through a message and presses on a string of numbers before placing the mobile over his ear, waiting.
The dial tone drones on, as the room grows quiet. It goes on for a little while longer. Then someone finally picks up the line.
“Doctor Zayne? It’s Xavier, from the Hunter’s Association.”
“Xavier… Did you get my number from Akso Hospital? This is a contact number only for emergencies. I’m no longer a presiding doctor there…but what can I do for you?”
“She’s gone, Doctor Zayne, EVER has her…We are in a bit of a situation and need you back in…..” Xavier’s voice becomes lighter as his breath thins, his phone slips from his grasp and his eyes close. He drops into a dead faint.
Faint streaks of red glimmer around his wrists and disappear quickly. Everyone sees it.
Jeremiah’s eyes widen in alarm as Isaiah and him move forward quickly to check Xavier’s pulse. It’s shallow and faint. With a look from Sylus, Luke and Keiran move immediately out of the room to get some medical supplies, items, water and towels.
Sylus picks up Xavier’s phone from the bed and puts the receiver to his ear.
“Xavier is highly compromised at the moment Doctor Zayne, he just passed out again. He is vital to our dear Miss Hunter’s wellbeing while she’s in EVER’s hands. We need your help now, can you come out of that library? We need to move fast on things before we lose Xavier and by extension, her safety.”
“The name is Sylus. If you don’t know who I am, I can be a friendly fruit vendor responsible for your dessert order, kindly sent by Akso Hospital and your former colleagues.”
The joke however, doesn’t land.
On the other end of the line, Zayne goes quiet. His hands are paused on an open page of one of the Fractal Library’s many books - he’s been researching about the timelines, worlds, his power, legacy and duty. Countless scenarios play across his mind as he decides on the next course of action.
“I know who you are, Sylus. I’ll come to you, send me the details. I’ll need an alibi for planned work in the Arctic next week that involves connections we might find interesting, we’ll need to deal with that to throw EVER off our tail.”
Zayne hesitates for a brief moment before adding, “I’ll try to reach Caleb. I have his contact via the Sky Haven hospital, during a fleet-related assignment. He might still be in the Deepspace Tunnel on fleet business. Things might be…unpredictable, with him too, for us.”
“Thank you. See you Doctor Zayne, the information is already in your phone,” Sylus ends the call and hangs up. He sets Xavier’s phone by the bedside table once more. Looking at the Philos Prince’s unconscious form, worry starts to lump thickly in him -
Why did EVER have to drain Xavier so much and at such a high frequency? What were they doing to you?
Rafayel observes this all, brows knitted together in concentration, taking every detail in even as questions swarm in his mind. He gets up from his seat and moves to stand beside Sylus, dropping his voice low just enough for Sylus to hear as he turns to face the taller man, holding his gaze.
“She called for me. I felt her. But then she was… gone, but not entirely," Rafeyel says quietly.
You had called for him. His bond mark had shone and ached, when you were still here in this timeline before going into the pod.
“I know, my soul is still tethered to hers, even now. She’s here, somewhere. We will find her.”
Amethyst gradient eyes tinged with pink and menacing ocean blue specks at the edges, meet fiery red ones. A quiet note of understanding and recognition passes between them through a gaze that’s all challenge and vulnerability, like two halves of a whole. They know they carry bonds with you, ones that traverse across lifetimes, painful and beautiful.
They hear Xavier’s breath shift more deeply, evening out gradually.
Jeremiah heaves a sigh of relief. “Looks like the draining has stopped for now, he’s asleep. I’m not even sure what we can do to save him if this keeps up.”
Sylus’s phone lights up with a message from Zayne, stating that he’ll arrive in an hour.
“Our doctor is on the way. Let’s hope for the best,” Sylus states.
Keiran steps forward and hands a pair of small black ear cuffs to Rafayel, before providing a different colored set of silver ones each to Jeremiah and Isaiah, and a third for them to hand to Sullivan. He places another black pair for Xavier by the bedside table. He shifts his mask slightly and taps his now partially exposed right ear to show the matte steel cuff fastened securely.
“For comms. Programmed by channels and for different groups. Instructions will be sent to your phone.”
Luke pops up on Rafayel’s other side, handing him a light coral colored tablet.
“Data and information on Miss Hunter. We’ll pull all updates into a shared repository accessible through these. Access is by facial recognition only.”
Rafayel takes the device into his palm, turning it around to examine it thoughtfully. Murky gradient eyes light up and glance back towards Sylus. Purple hair falls slightly to the right as Rafayel tilts his head mockingly.
“Ohhhhh, welcome gifts? Are we all now new members of Onychinus? Is this part of the package?” Rafayel quips. But his tone doesn’t quite align with the jest. It bears the undercurrent of impatience and anger - how much closer were they to finding you? Barely, barely any closer.
_______________
An impatient gloved finger taps a phone screen, playing back a voice message.
A heavy military coat lies thrown over a black swivel chair that’s parked in front of multiple screens. The tall imposing figure takes off his cap, discarding it in a corner. He is irritated, incensed. He knows something has happened. Dr Lucius has been silent for a while, his decreased levels of activity were always suspicious. Is there a new subject of interest?
“It’s Zayne. Caleb, she’s missing.”
The moment the words land, Caleb stills. Realisation dawning on him in horror. He catches the slip in Zayne’s voice in the playback, tone evident of his worry.
“I’m not sure if you’re back yet from the Deepspace Tunnel. But she…I, we need you. We’ve all gathered. I’m sure you know who I'm talking about. An encrypted message has been sent to your phone with details of the meet-up location. Come when you can, we’ll be expecting you.”
Gloved hands clench into fists and slam down on the side of the control panel in frustration.
Damn it. How did they get to you so quickly? Didn’t he divert their attention? What changed?
Caleb’s eyes narrow as he checks through his logs, eyes flicking across numerous images and videos systematically as he scans for signs of you in all the relevant footage taken while he was gone. Key locations, your regular routine paths, notable places.
He spots a van leaving the Hunter’s Association on the start date of your mission. It departs with a couple of other vehicles, seemingly blending in with routine mission dispatches. But the van later makes a sharp turn for another expressway. It doesn’t head to a No-Hunt Zone or any recently confirmed areas that need hunter assistance - after cross-checking with records. He sets a trace on the van using the visual details and car plate number and lets the command run.
He stalks to his room and changes out of his uniform hastily, grabbing a laptop and stuffing a few items into a bag before heading out as he glances at his phone, reading the location sent by Zayne. The door slams shut as Caleb exits his apartment.
The next few hours race by.
Zayne sets up a monitoring system for Xavier in the brief time after arriving. He gives strict orders for bedrest and sleep - as much as possible, to recover whatever reserves Xavier has available while the drains continue periodically and unpredictably. Zayne had gained access to some of the Gaia Research Center records through his work with Carter before they cut ties, and recalled reading up on the Backtrackers and Philosians. The same principles he read about then must still apply now, surely.
Sylus supplies him with all the Gaia Research Center archives as well - handing over a powder blue tablet pre-loaded with all the information available. He drops it off with a pair of black ear cuffs - matching comms devices already on Rafayel’s ears and his own.
“Tap once to switch it on to just the five of us. Twice for the broadcast channel including the twins, Xavier’s lackeys, Mephisto. Thrice to power it off, or you can just take it off.”
Zayne lands on two areas to work off.
First, increasing Xavier’s Evol recovery rate through sharply elevated nutrition intake that can match the levels on Philos. Through Sylus’s and Zayne’s combined network, they pull together an amped up nutrition drip medical set-up for the silver-haired hunter, and get him going on a drastically increased food consumption schedule. Not that Xavier would ever complain about the latter under normal circumstances, but being unable to go sack the EVER affiliate locations with Sylus and Rafayel and actively look for you, leaves him unable to muster the usual appetite he has.
His restlessness sets in almost immediately on waking. He had to do something. So Zayne assigns him reading and research on Evols, two pairs of eyes will work faster to uncover how the siphoning is working and if there were ways to mitigate the flow and intensity. Sylus asks him to vet through the new batch of Protocores from his bed. They need backups for you if their hunch is right on needing power sources to keep you going, depending on what EVER is doing.
Second - finding a way to use the Onychinus stash of Protocores to help the silver-haired hunter. Was there a way to route the drain from the wrist cuffs to a Protocore instead? It wasn’t a medical task. Zayne floats the idea with Sylus and Xavier, who both agree it’s a viable direction to take, and ropes in Jeremiah to help.
“Caleb might know more about what we’re trying to do with this, if he cooperates,” the doctor muses.
The encounter with the Colonel goes less smoothly than desired.
Caleb had come storming into the rendezvous point - a building just a stone’s throw away from the towering penthouse that quietly holds the Onychinus main N109 base. Sylus didn’t want to risk exposing Xavier and his base to the potentially unstable Colonel on a rampage. Sylus, Rafayel and Zayne had gone to meet him after he had returned Zayne’s voice message.
It was a simple text, “3 hours.”
The four of them had stood stiffly in the private room, seats and water untouched. Rafayel was leaning on a wall, arms crossed, listening passively and deep in thought while Zayne stood on the opposite end. Sylus drove the conversation, but things were not going as planned.
“You’re taking my willingness to accommodate your actions for granted, Colonel. We’re prioritising her, but are you?” Sylus’s voice is tinged with annoyance.
That triggers Caleb further.
A wave of gravitational force rams through violently to pin Sylus down, but he pushes back easily with a surge of red energy. Caleb's eyes narrow to slits and he tenses further, holding his jaw tight and increasing the torrent of the gravity push towards the Onychinus Leader.
“Caleb.”
Zayne’s voice cuts in just as tensions intensify by another degree.
“She wouldn’t want to see you like this.”
Caleb falters at that statement.
“We are not going to make much progress individually, or be quick enough. Working together is a necessity if we want what’s best for her. You’ve heard Sylus’s explanation. We have no incentive to deceive you, and you know her connection to all of us.”
Sylus places the last pair of black ear cuffs and a light orange tablet in front of Caleb.
“Optional comms - use it as you will. Instructions have been sent to your phone. The tablet is for ease of sharing information and security. We’re making a move on the EVER affiliates soon.”
Caleb eyes the devices. He releases his Evol completely, and takes a deep breath.
“I’m due back at the Farspace Fleet in a few hours. I have a lead - the vehicle she likely got on. I’ll upload the details. I should have more updates in a few hours, there are a couple of things I need to check on.”
“And, I’m not just complying with your grand plan, Sylus,” Caleb hisses.
“I wouldn’t expect you to, not so easily. But I only accept actions that add value. I’m not interested in butting heads with you and setting us all back on progress.”
Caleb shoots a glare at him, sweeps the devices into his bag and heads out of the location, brushing past Rafayel who barely offers a glance. Caleb’s mind is already recalibrating the areas he needs to look into for more information after all that he has heard. He needs to get to the bottom of the new subject or subjects of interest on Lucius’s end too. That seemed highly suspect.
“Great team dynamics established. So, can we get going?” Rafayel looks at Sylus, then glances towards Zayne.
“I’ll return back to the base to check on Xavier first,” Zayne says.
“Stay with him Doctor Zayne. We’ll need to know if his condition changes and if we should adapt plans accordingly,” Sylus replies.
The twins and Mephisto are hanging out by a cluster of tall trees outside the meet-up location, camouflaged by the swaying leafy branches and high enough to be out of direct sight. A car is parked below where they are at, sleek and discreet. Morning had already emerged fully over the horizon, giving a dull glow to the quiet street in the depths of the N109 Zone.
“This is turning into a family trip with our numbers and transport choice,” Rafayel laments as he crosses over and slides into the passenger seat. His hair catches the light as a few sun rays sneak through the window to cast a warm glow and shadow over his face, his hood still drawn up.
Sylus glances over.
“Would you rather bike to the location? That can be arranged,” Sylus replies dryly as he takes the wheel. The twins pile into the backseat as Mephisto perches on the center arm rest. A nearly comical scene, if not for the solemnness of the task at hand.
“It’s fineee, this works. Let’s get going, Boss S. Time is ticking."
Sylus shakes his head as he wakes the car engine up and speeds off, entourage in tow.
Levels below the sea within an EVER lab, your physical form lays deathly still, but your chest rises and falls evenly. A monitor beeps a warning. Hands scramble and fly across screens, checking your vitals and stats.
“Do we activate the cuffs again? He might be highly compromised, beyond possible recovery levels if we continue draining at such a frequency.”
“Lower the amount and route two of the new Protocores from No-Hunt Zone 15 to her.”
Kallaia frowns as Dr Lucius arrives beside her, strolling in from the opposite entrance of the lab.
“Trouble with the treasure?” he asks, as he smiles and looks on at your unconscious form within the pod from a distance. His eyes alight with cold inhuman interest.
Kallaia doesn’t reply. Brows knitted together, she updates the team on a change of plans.
“Lengthen the time between jumps and bring her back after each. Shorten the duration she’s in the parallel time flow so it doesn’t further drain her and our resources. We’ll keep to the planned number of jumps before the stasis attempt, but extend her expected time in the pod. Also, get our agents out there to acquire more Protocores.”
She brushes past Dr Lucius and exits the lab, ignoring him completely.
He looks on, unaffected, and scans the readings littered across the screens. He heads out shortly after. With some new acquisitions to program and an update to make to the new version of his Toring Chip, an interesting day laid ahead.
_______________
Your heart jumps in apprehension as the trailing golden lights disperse. Attempting to blink a few times, you hope to achieve clarity faster, but slight exhaustion clings to your eyelids. You feel like you are submerged in liquid, heavy - each movement dragging and lengthening out as you reach for the next. Every action drains you, but you press on.
You give yourself time to catch up, and finally recognise the figure in front of you.
It’s Zayne.
You still don’t really know how to feel or digest your emotions about him.
Too many things had become complicated after he resigned from Akso Hospital and decided to keep his distance. In part - there was the fear of a possible future with Dawnbreaker intervening. In another part, avoidance - what was he to do with a possible deterioration of your condition, but with no way to stop it? If he had no solution at present, what use was he by your side?
He had to seek answers too.
You had seen the strain on his face, his clear want as well to go find answers no one was providing. His painful need to do something, anything to get them. You know the feeling, and you understood, even if it hurt you in the process. He mirrored your own want and inner demons.
So he had left. Put distance between you both again, for what he had deemed was for your own good.
It had again been one other connection that you had thought you could hold on to. To keep you steady. Instead, it drifted away, becoming a destabalising force that ate away at your heart. Another situation you had to steel yourself to process and overcome. The exhaustion of it all continued its drain on you mentally, emotionally.
You refocus your attention on the scene in front of you, bracing for when you will assume the role you play in this memory with him. You are here for answers, anyway, not to brood.
Zayne comes back into his home and you are there in bed, his bed - yours too. He takes off his coat, and closes the door softly, looks at you and decides to kiss you gently, endearingly, on the cheek.
“My apologies. Did I wake you up?”
Hearing him utter those words, voice just above a whisper, filled with tenderness and a hint of a smile, instantly brings a sting to your eyes. You hadn’t heard his voice in a while.
“Yes, it's been hectic at the hospital as of late. Every night I had to return home in the middle of the night…”
“You were sleeping so peacefully. I couldn’t resist the urge to kiss you.”
And in the next moment, you find yourself in his arms, consciousness filling out across this new form as his body envelopes yours. Awareness tingles and vibrates alongside sensation. You hear him take a long deep breath in, seeking comfort in your scent. He rests his head on your left shoulder, voice a shaky whisper by your ear, exhaustion and relief evident.
“Let me hold you for a bit. This helps me chase away my exhaustion.”
His warmth seeps into yours, melting together like a soothing balm. You sigh in satisfaction, and whisper into his ear. He lets out a soft chuckle at your remark.
“We should relax more? But how exactly… will you help me relax?” he asks inquisitively, a hint of amusement and expectation lying over that question.
With a glint in your eye, you shift and reposition yourself - throwing a leg over to straddle him as you push him to sit on the bed. He takes in a breath, words form mid-gasp, in slight surprise.
You pull off his clothes systematically, undoing buttons, zips and unhooking edges to get access to his bare back and shoulders. His black tailored trousers follow next, but just slightly loosened so you can properly reach his lower back. He lets out a shuddering sigh to compose himself, and catches himself at the beginning of a moan.
You shift again, now moving behind him, and start on a slow massage with your hands.
The surprise lands.
He thought you had other intentions with such a start on the topic of relaxation and him. He reels himself back with a short laugh, brushing things off mid-sentence, deciding instead to hold back on his thoughts and let you continue your plan for stress relief.
Your hands go over his shoulders, neck, head and delicate area around the eyes and forehead repeatedly. You knead firmly but carefully, strokes easing the knots and tension across his frame. Soft sighs escape his lips.
He tells you that he feels so much better.
You continue kneeling behind him, determined to continue your work, spurred by the positive outcome. He catches your hand and turns to whisper in your right ear.
“Just sit on me. It’ll be easier for you.” Your cheeks warm at that.
He lifts you gently and places you on his lap, moving your legs to straddle his thighs, facing him. You change up the movement of your hands but continue earnestly with your task.
“Mmngh… I feel much better already.”
“It’s more effective than the strongest, most soothing medicine in the world,” he whispers on your right, sending goosebumps down your arm.
He opens his eyes to study your face, gaze flicking to your lips then back up to meet your eyes.
“Your lips are dry, do you want some water?”
You nod and gesture for him to feed you, unleashing a pout. Surely you can now demand for a reward after your painstaking efforts to help him relax. He relents, despite first making a teasing comment.
He gets some water for you from the jug in the room and brings the now filled glass over. He tips it gently and brushes the edge of the glass against the seam of your now parted lips. You drink quickly, and water runs down from the side of your mouth.
He laughs softly again, having told you not to rush. He sets the glass down and moves to kiss your lips twice, catching the residue water that drips from your pout before it can slide down your jaw and chin. He savors it and you see the enjoyment on his face.
Your control snaps.
You push him back down on the bed and straddle him again, your mouth descending on his passionately. He grins and huffs a laugh between the tangle of lips, tongues and teeth.
“I knew it… you want to do this to me again……”
You press yourself closer, leaning in to capture his lips in a passionate dance. Setting a rhythm of lips meeting, parting and coming back together. His hands start to wander - across your chest, thighs, hips and behind. His palms take generous squeezes of you where it lands for longer than a moment. He strokes his finger down your back, and you shudder. You whisper a remark.
“What do you mean I’m taking advantage of the situation?”
His words come out haltingly between kisses. You aren’t sure who is bullying who, or who is leading. You take turns. You gladly resume your attack on his lips, swallowing his gasps.
He continues and can’t help but chuckle. His voice drops down to a whisper as he presses his forehead to yours, eyes meeting your gaze straight on before slyly moving his mouth to your right ear. He’s keeping up with your narrative.
“Aren’t we just… helping each other relax?”
The kisses turn slow and languid. He takes his time, hands moving appreciatively over your body in a gentle caress.
“Well, it’s clean now.” He parts from you with a single chaste kiss.
He considers his next move, and you notice when he loses grip on his restraint, and suddenly grinds into you harshly, taking advantage of the fact that your bodies are still close. Breath turning ragged as he seeks more friction. You squeeze your eyes shut, desperately exercising your own restraint not to grind back and ride his clothed length.
He sees your expression change and pauses.
“...Sorry. Did I hurt you? It’s been a long time since we last saw each other... I missed you.”
You shake your head, and in that same moment decide to tease him. You slip your hands slowly into his pants, reaching and coaxing his pleasure out before you.
“Does this also need to relax?” He asks breathlessly.
He follows your gaze and where your hands are wrapped around him. You tell him you’re being thorough and professional.
“Of course. I understand you only want to help me feel less fatigued…”
He watches your hands move, a deep flush forming across his cheeks and reaching the tip of his ears.
“Different muscle groups call for specific massage techniques... Sometimes... Being skillful is what really makes a difference.”
His voice vacillates but remains a breathy whisper as he tries to maintain his composure. Underlying amusement traces in his words, he is humouring you. You continue your work on him and he sighs, letting out a broken groan he doesn’t quite complete.
He’s fraying at the edges. Two wet kisses land on your shoulder.
“I think it’s getting more tense now.”
The thick outline of him becomes clearer from your relentless affection. He tries to steady his breath but when you glance up at his face, you see his eyes half-lidded, overflowing with want.
“Perhaps… you could add a little more pressure?
You grin. A challenge? You grip him harder and pick up the pace, you push his clothes aside and relish in hearing his breaths quicken. You meet his lips hungrily and his breath shudders.
Then he moves to change your positions, depositing you softly on the bed before leaning in.
“I wonder... How long were you planning to pull this stunt on me?
You reach forward and pull him in, circling your wrists around his neck to hold his gaze to yours. You know he isn’t going to leave you to your whims for much longer. You tell him how much you’ve missed him in between your kisses.
“Mmngh... Yes, of course. I missed you, too.”
“How much?” He laughs at your question, and makes his move. He shifts up your nightgown and in a single tug pulls your soaked underwear off. He notices the ruined state of your garment, and smirks.
“From another perspective, I suppose I’m also your dose of special medicine.”
You listen to him, entranced, and notice him shifting clothing aside as he brings you closer to him, arms coming around you.
“Rest in my embrace. Just like this. Now…” He places a soothing kiss on your lips.
“Let me tell you... how much I missed you when we couldn’t see each other.”
He lifts and shifts you forward, closer towards him in a single movement, and brings you down hard on the evidence of his desire. You flinch at the overwhelming stretch of him and still your body, breathing hard, adjusting. Zayne notices, and traces his fingers down soothingly across your back, as his left hand braces your hips firmly. You follow his voice, willing your body to relax, and he checks in on whether the sudden stretch is still uncomfortable.
He shifts slightly, and starts moving slowly, teasing out your pleasure. You tilt your head down, forehead resting lightly on his shoulder, all while clenching him tightly, sighs escaping your lips. His questions continue, and you whisper a reply to him… a request - to stop asking questions.
His voice is all satisfaction and coyness as he continues talking.
You wrap your arms around his neck then as he continues his leisurely pace, your head tilting at a larger angle to rest on his broad shoulders more comfortably. You close your eyes, soaking in the feeling of being one with him, all while your cheeks burn at the wet noises coming from where you are joined. But Zayne isn’t about to allow you to rest.
He picks up the pace, hands moving to grip your hips tightly, holding you in place as he chases both your finishes. He isn’t done, and according to him, the night is still young. He is going to thoroughly enjoy relearning the feeling of you, in detail.
You try to muffle your moans and cries of his name as your pleasure mounts, but he’s having none of it. His hands reach for yours, pinning them to your back as he trusts up deeply again and again, driving a relentless pace. You scream his name as he asks, unable to hold back.
Pleasure blooms hot and white as you tremble in his embrace. He trusts a few more times harshly before stilling, and places slow kisses down your neck and shoulder as he comes down from his high. Your heavy breaths mingle, and your lips meet lightly, endearingly.
You never want this moment to end.
But the void comes back to claim you shortly after.
Just like that, you float in the negative space one more, catching up on the missing context from the memory with Zayne. You steep in the afterglow even on your own, mind playing back the aftermath of lying in bed, cuddling close with him and feeling safe.
An every day experience with Zayne like this hits close to home. The normalcy you had always yearned for, for so long. The ability to have the confidence to be yourself, to have confidence in the comfort you know you will receive willingly from a partner… and to have a shelter to run to in the form of someone when the world gets too big for you to manage.
The intimacy - with three of them now, and likely the two others, and for more memories to come with how things were progressing…You don’t lie to yourself, easily admitting honestly how much you enjoyed it. It all made your heart swell uncontrollably with joy, even if in passing, even if for just a fleeting scene.
These memories were now also yours to carry and hold dear.
You had never pursued intimacy to this extent…with anyone else before, because it never felt right, and there was never space for it in your life. As you navigated the daily battle for survival and attempting normalcy in the spaces in between, even thinking about it never stuck around for long. Your heart remained empty, even if you had been curious before to learn more about others and your desires.
But with them, the chemistry had been hard to deny. Intrusive thoughts had snuck in on multiple occasions, and you had found yourself thinking about what it would be like to be close, one too many times. The torrid side of your humour takes over.
What are the chances that you pursued a path like this with each of them separately? It might have been hard to imagine before all this, but that has now all changed.
_______________
You’re not left long to just your thoughts before the swirl of golden lights return. But this time, you feel the pull not as a smooth tug. It’s different from the three other rounds before. It jerks and pauses, like something fractures during the shift to bring you in.
You have trouble focusing.
A fog shrouds your mind and it spreads to hover and weigh your eyelids down. You’re tired, and can feel a continuous, more obvious drain now of your Evol and energy. A substance akin to heavy liquid metal slides thickly over you with every drag and shift, hampering your movement and dulling your senses further. It mutes sound as well and blocks sensation. Clarity takes even longer to arrive than the last time.
But once it does, you’re already embedded deeply in the memory.
There’s no spectating this time.
You sit in a corner, looking out the window. You’re not at home, but you’re familiar with the place. Your eyes take a while to register it’s falling rain that you’re looking at from the inside.
The deep oak hues of hard parquet flooring takes time to register - it takes you multiple glances down to properly recognise what it is. Sensation of the flooring against your thighs, calves and behind, also takes time to fully set in. The slight chill of contact with your skin is something you can barely feel at first. But you know exactly why you are there - you’re waiting for him.
The knob turns and the main door opens in the living room. Someone walks in. The heavy click of leather shoes treading across the polished floor gets louder. The sound of rain increases in volume as well.
He’s back.
Long legs lift you up effortlessly, and you look towards the door of the bedroom. Instead of heading out to the corridor immediately, you open and leave the door slightly ajar and wait in the dark, a small distance away.
You wait a few moments, pausing to gauge if he’s making his way towards you. When you confirm that he is, you break into a short sprint to ambush your willing target who has just returned to the Onychinus base.
Sylus.
You knock the air out of him briefly in your eagerness to capture him in your arms as part of your greeting. He lets out a sharp exhale, not expecting the force that you hit him with upon colliding with his chest.
“...I thought a nocturnal animal was lurking in the dark so it could ambush me.”
He chuckles as he holds you, arms easily lifting you up to meet him at eye level.
“You’ve gotten better at choosing hiding spots, kitten.”
“But first, let me give you some advice. Shouldn’t you check to see if I’m your prey for tonight?”
Arms locked securely over his shoulders, you cling onto him, refusing to let go. Ignoring the fact that he’s drenched, and that the water from his hair and clothes get onto you - sliding from your neck down to your chest and to your nightgown, making your clothes stick to you and outline your body.
He briefly ruffles his hair to show you the water gathered on the crown on his head. A kiss also lands in greeting.
Despite his request to you - to come down and out of his arms so that he can dry himself first, you refuse and cling onto him tighter, breathing in his scent deeply - it’s now mixed with the essence of rain and greenery from the outdoors. It brings you comfort.
He gives up on his request and lets you do as you please, but not without teasing you. His soft rumbling voice fills your right ear, his breath warm against the shell of it and down your neck.
It makes you shiver, and not from the cold.
With you still in his arms, he shifts slightly to get a better look over your form from head to toe, eyes raking through every detail from your hair to your cold bare feet. He starts to make his way to the fireplace in the living room, telling you that it’s warmer there and to grab a blanket.
As he opens the door, you hear the faint crackling noise of burning firewood.
He settles you in front of the fireplace, spilling you over the top of the cozy floor rug and plush cushions you had both assembled earlier that day. You grab the only blanket from beside the sofa and with a flourish, open it dramatically and invitingly in a single movement.
He looks at you, a question in his expression and on his lips.
You pause, partially retracting your decision then, not moving just yet to cover him with the blanket. You flip it around and hang it over your shoulders instead, languishing in the warmth it provides. Half a smirk sits on your face as you look at him, eyes glancing sideways.
With a pout and frown, and he laments at the possibility of falling sick if you don’t share your blanket. You concede, and move to drape the blanket over both of you. It lands over his frame and yours in a slow glide. He thanks you animatedly, then settles, and moves to bring you closer to him, wrapping his arms tightly around you.
He tells you he prefers your warmth.
Delighted, you start placing a trail of kisses slowly across his neck and to his jaw. All while his hands move lazily to map the outline of you that he knows well. He growls faintly in satisfaction, and nuzzles you as he goes, comfortable and sated.
Hearing his throaty rumble of satisfaction does you in. Your face flushes scarlett and you raise your side of the blanket up to cover your head, disappearing under it. In a small voice, you ask if he’s ok with this, you being insistent, wanting to do whatever pleases you.
The questions that come from you hint at your intentions.
It’s dark, and he comments at that, his voice that’s a husky whisper urges you on subtly. You know your desires match his, but prefer that the darkness masks your movements and boldness. The warm thrum of his chuckle that follows as he sees your actions sends shivers down your spine.
You adore it, you adore him, and this feeling.
Your hand moves to touch him below his navel, pushing past the gathers of his trousers, reaching lower. His fingers follow a similar path downwards on your body, dipping underneath the seam of your nightgown to then trace a line up to your inner thigh, moving closer to his desired destination.
He tells you that he’s fine with how things are going, that he doesn’t need to see.
“Darkness…makes a person more sensitive.”
Enjoying the slow work of your hands to build his pleasure, his lips continue their path along your neck, tracing the contours down to your collarbone before coming back up to your lips. Light leisurely kisses grace your lips.
While he distracts you with his mouth, his fingers map patterns across your inner thighs, feeling the heat that radiates from you, heat that becomes more intense as your desire mounts. He reaches in between your folds, and sharp satisfied breaths from before turn into a pleased chuckle that sits low in his throat.
Dark delight echoes off him because of what he finds - you’re soaked, ready for him, eager.
“Your body is hotter than your lips. You don’t have a fever, right?”
Warm laughter rolls off him as he slips a finger into the hottest part of your body. You grip him tighter, cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of burgundy as you feel yourself drip onto the rest of his curled fingers and palm.
“...And just like that, you’re wet because of me.”
Despite the overwhelming sensation, you raise your head to look at him, a knowing look in your eyes.
“I’m not proud. I’m just stating a fact…”
Fingers move to tease you further, in and around, brushing lightly. It’s barely enough. You grow impatient and shift to grind yourself harder onto his fingers, hand and body.
“...Is this how you “hunt,” kitten? You press yourself against your prey?”
“It’s a tender, loving trap... I haven’t experienced this sort of hunting technique before.”
“All right, I’m more than happy to be your prey.”
He continues, adding another finger to the slow intentional drag upwards and downwards. The teasing continues. He draws himself closer to you, mouth drifting closer to your ear. Sharp and deep pushes into you punctuate his words.
“And I’m happy to experience everything you have to offer.”
Listening to him nearly makes you lose it. Impatience and embarrassment growing, you pinch him to get his attention, he has yet to understand what you truly want from him or resolve the unease that sits in your heart. You hadn’t yet gotten a chance to express it either. In bewilderment, he asks you why you land the vicious move on him and if it’s punishment for getting caught in the rain.
He’s feigning ignorance, and being distracting.
Your eyes narrow as you stare him down, even with his fingers still buried deep in you. It’s awkward but you’re not about to back down. The dynamic with him is always an interesting one, with your wits and wills put to the test.
You decide to be straightforward, and share with him what’s been on your mind - your need to be physically close stemming from your insecurity, your worries. How it doesn’t seem like he misses you while he is away, how you are always seemingly more eager to reunite, more keen to get close.
How he always seems so composed. The complete opposite of you.
Sensing the shift in your emotions, he slowly removes his occupied hand and takes one of yours with his other. He places a kiss on the back of your palm in an attempt to soothe and reassure. A soft chuckle rolls off his chest and washes over you.
“I was mostly worried about someone forgetting me when I wasn’t with her.”
“That’s why I was in a hurry to go home…”
He lifts you and brings your body down flat on the carpet, making sure that your head rests on a pile of pillows. Hovering over you, he studies your face, both hands holding you firmly from the sides.
“And I just walked into her trap….”
The crackling sound of burning firewood grows louder as your vision centers to just him, he blocks out the view of the rest of the room, presence alone engulfing all your senses. You ask how you can get him to stay, like this, with you, always.
“Hmm? Are you asking how to make your prey stay with you willingly after he walked into your trap?”
“Kitten, you already know the answer... Aren’t you an expert in this?”
Demanding lips move to capture yours at intervals as he answers you honestly. One of his hands moves down the side of your body and returns to where you want him, while he holds you close with the other. Your eyes close in ecstasy.
“To have a firm grasp on your prey, you should first…”
“Make him lower his guard and get used to your intrusions.” His voice drops to a whisper as his fingers work harder, pushing deeper. You struggle to stifle your moans.
“Then you tell him your heart’s desire. And when he’s a good boy, you reward him….”
You hear the anticipation and desire in his voice, as he narrates to you exactly what he wants, and what you should want of him. He increases the pace, pushing harder and deeper. Your breaths are short and shallow, heart racing.
“For the last step... You reveal your vulnerable side to him. Do it in such a way that will make him think you’ll rely on him more…”
Feverish kisses drop on your lips.
“So when he leaves you, he’ll feel guilty… And do his best to make it up to you in every possible way.”
A sharp gasp escapes your lips as your pleasure peaks and wrecks your body. You tremble as he continues to work through your high, still insistent even as the sensation ebbs. You’ve both gotten your heart's desire.
“He’ll even give you everything you could ever want in this life….”
The blanket that covers you both is soaked from rainwater and you.
“I’m afraid we can’t use this blanket anymore. Should I get a new one?”
The false innocence in his statement ignites a need to challenge him in you. You move in an attempt to turn the tables - to reverse your positions and get him on his back and at your mercy instead. But your attempt fails.
“...?” He laughs.
“Do you need to be competitive… right now?”
“I won’t allow it. Not this time, at least….”
A large hand catches your wrists and pins them above your head, holding you down as he resumes his work on you again with his other hand. Your face flushes bright and hot as you hear the squelching coming from below - a direct result of his efforts.
“It’s practically pouring now…”
You’re still lost in sensation, eyes half-open and delirious when the frosty cold of emptiness slams into you as the memory ends. The transition gets more jarring with each experience.
The time you had just experienced with Sylus tells you volumes about him. It opens the window wide for you to see the possible progression of where things can lead to. And you had already seen sparks of this across occasions, and most recently in Charon.
And to have realised thereafter that he was the one who had gotten you out of the Gaia Research Lab and given you a new lease of life… that had brought things into a different light for you. There was still so much to unpack emotionally.
The rush of context and emotions from the memory with Sylus sets in as expected, but there isn’t much of a gap to fill. Your heart strains more than you expect but it already knows what it needs to.
Barely a few minutes pass before you sense a shift in the void, now on instinct.
The swirl of lights come to you completely differently this time.
Dark silver streaks line the vortex that pulls you in, there is no gold threading through the tunnel. The pull hits you harder too, the tug more insistent, almost violent. There is no easing into the memory.
You’re rammed straight into the scene, sensations flood instantly like a blinding flash. Pain starts to hover at the edge of your consciousness.
You hold a cake. You’re presenting it to Caleb.
It’s his birthday. You made the cake.
He takes it from you, hand brushing over yours tenderly in adoration, boyish grin widening as he moves forward.
You blink and next, he’s on top of you, dusting your lips with messy kisses. Unrestrained. Hands pulling at your clothes and at his - all that soon joins the birthday decorations already strewn across the floor in the aftermath of your celebration night at his apartment.
The cake lies half eaten on the coffee table.
Desperate groans flow across the tight space between your bodies and mouths, radiating a hunger that the cake you made can never satisfy.
The scene freezes and fades. He appears in front of you again, this time in his Colonel uniform, before it morphs into an outfit you’ve seen him wear casually a few times now in the present day.
“Coward.”
His voice echoes in your mind as you’re suddenly dragged back into the void. The word stabs deep. But you gather yourself, willing yourself to calm down.
A fifth memory now, you register. But the sequence is shorter, sliced, messy, and Caleb… in his uniform… that set of clothes, that was from when we reunited. It’s inconsistent, a blend.
You brace for the flood of information that you feel already hovering at the edges of your mind. It belongs to you, somehow, just not in the typical way you expect. You let yourself ease by a fraction, settling before the onslaught drags you into its current.
Right on cue, knowledge and context slams into you. It is complete and whole - emotions, touch, thoughts, before and after what you had experienced, and not lacking in clarity. His birthday and then the last snippet - a revisit to a memory you can call your own with certainty.
But before another thought enters your mind, an excruciating pain knocks into you.
It consumes and expands starting from the middle of your chest, where the pool of your resonance Evol sits. The blinding, searing agony continues. Shallow breaths flow through your nose and mouth in erratic turns.
Why is this happening?
Your mind fights to hold on to all the information you’ve gained and have been trying to process. For a few seconds, the pain climbs inch by inch to a fever pitch, and you feel your eyes and limbs burn. Then an icy wave of cold blankets over you, numbing all sensation. Tears spring to your eyes at the relief. But it barely lasts a few seconds.
A next wave of pain hits you, the heat erupting from your heart, coming from where you know the aether core fragment lies buried. Your breath resumes its quick and shallow pace as you struggle to calm down.
Then again, another icy wave of cold settles over you, more insistent this time, with a layer of weight covering it to reinforce its presence. A weight and pull you can only describe as gravity.
The pain leaves you trembling. But your vision clears just enough for you to see red and black streaks of energy fill the space in front of you, it stops something from reaching you. You don’t know what is trying to get to you.
You take deep grounding breaths, focusing on keeping the throbbing ache at the back of your head at bay as you steady your emotions and mentally compartmentalise the memories. As you gather yourself, you feel a warm glow of light accompanied by a luminescent flame float towards you. The flame steadies, merging with the light to form a glow that comes to rest over your heart and gradually expands - the warmth and comfort forming a cocoon over you.
It calms you marginally, you are still anxious. Your overstimulated mind continues to replay each memory with the five of them in detail, seeking assurance that everything you had just experienced with each of them was real and that you had lived through it. That you remembered all of it.
Something tells you that this is all far from over, but at least, the pain has ebbed for now.
A warm rose-gold glow envelops you slowly from the back.
You flinch at first in dread of what might lay ahead. The ordeal you had just gone through still weighs heavily on your mind and body. A firm but feminine voice drifts past your ears. You squint as you try to make out more details forming from the silhouette ahead of you.
“I have another chance again to thank you for choosing him. Your choices… have shaped the fate of the others as well,” she pauses, her voice trailing away. You finally catch sight again of her silver hair.
“I can only buy you and him some time. But he has met with the others, they’ll figure things out.”
The glow intensifies and you feel your resonance expand infinitely within you like a breath of fresh air. A tree appears before you, magnificent. It takes your breath away as you gaze up at it in wonder. It stands radiant and bright.
Hope surges within you from a place where it’s been buried for a while now.
The tree’s leaves fall around you like an ornate dance, sweeping you up in a refreshing energy filled with freedom and love.
Then the scene fades and the void returns. Silence fills the space.
But you no longer feel weak.
You wait quietly for the next swirl of lights.