Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sylus

***

You’re on another mission?

Call me back later.

I visited Linkon today.

Your territory is boring without you

Mephisto yanked off two leaves from the plant you left at my place.

Hes been restless since no ones here to argue with him.

Arent you going to come back and check in on him?

***

Sylus growls at his phone screen, willing it to change. At least to show that the messages have been read.

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Kieran and Luke look at each other, then back down at their work without meeting his eyes.

He refuses to name the feeling rising in his chest for the past month and it is only getting worse. He thought he had reached a new level of understanding with Eliwyn after helping each other overseas. The fear lingering in her eyes since he rescued her from the false Onychinus had finally disappeared. Of course, she would make him work for it, Sylus was sure they were that much closer to being able to resonate which would further his plans. Although, it would be like Eliwen to take a step back. To second guess his intentions. He had hated the manner of finally meeting her after so many years of searching and setting everything up. To have all his plans thrown out the window when she allowed herself to be captured in the Nest. The absolute fear that had rushed through him when he discovered what was going down while he was halfway around the world was something he would never forget. He almost hadn’t made it in time.

“Still no response, Boss?” From the timbre of the voice, Sylus can tell without looking it’s Kieran asking.

“Have either of you heard from her?” At the underlying threat in his voice, they quickly shake their heads in unison. When he first learned she kept regular contact with Luke and Kieran, Sylus had been upset. Then he realized it was another way to keep track of her. He trusts the twins to let him know if they feel she is in any danger.

“Not since we returned from taking care of the General, Boss,” Luke responds. Sylus scrutinizes the twins. There is concern in their eyes that adds fuel to the unease in his gut. He has highly honed instincts and has learned to trust them. Right now they are telling him if he doesn’t find out what is going on soon, it will be too late and he may lose her forever.

At first, he had thought she was ignoring his messages because they had gotten too close and it frightened her. Then he realized they weren’t even being read. After a week of no response, he attempted to use normal channels to locate her. No reason to upset Eliwyn by invading her privacy if it wasn’t warranted. When he called the Hunter’s Association told him she was on a mission out of town.

“Enough is enough.” Sylus pulls out a brand-new phone from his desk and sets it aside while he pulls up his holoscreens. One screen is cycling every second through all the cameras throughout Linkon. The videos are all timestamped with the current date and time. The program has been running for the last four weeks with no hits.

Swiping that screen to the side, Sylus opens a new holographic window. His deft fingers dance across the screen. Most people would be surprised to discover that he is as adept with technology as he is with violence. To Sylus these skills are simply different tools and each needs to be applied properly to achieve his desired results.

It takes no time at all to hack into Eliwyn’s phone service provider and tell it to mirror her phone information onto the new phone in his hands. As soon as the data has been downloaded he checks her text conversations. A weight hits him in the pit of his stomach. None of her conversations have been responded to or read since the night he and Eliwyn returned from overseas. After she walked out his door, Eliwyn appears to have disappeared into thin air.

Without stopping to think Sylus opens another screen, this one also flashes between camera footage every second but the cameras all show what appears to be an eerie red nightscape. He changes the search parameters to include a 48-hour time window starting the moment she leaves his base and moves the window up next to the previous one. Then he alters the search parameters of his Linkon search to the same period and lets them run while he returns his attention to the information on Eliwyn’s phone.

Eliwyn’s vivacious personality shines through in her messages and Sylus feels a strange tightening of his chest as he imagines her expressive face as she writes them.

A frown creases Sylus’ brow as he begins to read the text conversations. He knows everyone who is in Eliwyn’s life. He runs a background check on anyone she comes into contact with regularly to determine if they are a threat to her and by extension, his plans.

There is the cardiac surgeon in charge of her medical care, the inept Deepspace hunter she is partnered with at the association, and the entitled artist she occasionally works for as a bodyguard. Of course, Sylus knows that these three men are not exactly what they appear. He can hardly blame them, neither is he.

Since they seem determined to keep Eliwyn in ignorance of their true motives and they have no contact with Ever, Xander Sciences, or any of the other criminal organizations Sylus keeps an eye on he judged their current impact as minimal but has alerts set up in case that changes. As far as he can tell it hasn’t. No, it is the tone of their conversations that gives him pause. These men are interested in more than just Eliwyn’s welfare as a patient, partner, or employee.

Perhaps he has made a mistake by allowing them to remain in her life. Without even thinking about it, Sylus begins a much more in-depth search into the three men's habits, backgrounds, allies, and associates. Plans already brewing for how to remove them from her life permanently should that become necessary. Then he moves those searches off to the side while they run.

Looking at the more recent messages he pauses. Each of the men has grown increasingly concerned over the last four weeks at the lack of response from Eliwen.

Opening his desk, Sylus enters a special code into a hidden panel built into the drawer. A sound rings and Sylus can feel a change in the air around him. He is now completely insulated and hidden. He doesn’t even need to re-route his hack through different servers. As far as his target is concerned it will look like he appeared and disappeared out of nowhere. Most people were used to only seeing the facade they show the world, but Sylus has never been that trusting. There is much more to the Hunter’s Association than meets the eye so it requires a level of caution he normally reserves for the likes of Ever.

His search doesn’t take long since he had already broken in and stolen any files related to Eliwyn. He does a quick search. There are a couple of new files so he grabs those while he is there. Then he pulls the record of her current mission and his blood runs cold. There is no record . There is an alert on the file that if anyone calls, they are to be advised that Eliwyn is on a mission. Her current status, however, is listed as: whereabouts unknown.

On a hunch, Sylus pulls her historical mission data and downloads it before closing his link and turning off the device that hides his intrusion. It doesn’t take long to compare that data to Eliwyn’s phone data and find a pattern. The constricted feeling in his chest grows. Leaning back in his leather chair and pinching the area between his brows, willing the feeling to go away.

“Everything okay, Boss?”

“Yeah, what did you find?”

“I thought she was just ignoring me.” He sees the twins look at each other out of the corner of his eye.

“Every time my messages have gone unanswered, I thought she was purposefully ignoring me. But she was gone.”

“Gone where?” They ask in unison.

“Nowhere.”

Before he can explain an alert sounds from one of his holoscreens and Sylus wastes no time pulling it back to the center. It’s the Linkon search from the day they returned. Sylus immediately recognizes the location as Eliwyn walks up the street, opens the door to the Destiny Cafe off Silverbay, and enters. Sylus speeds up the recording to see what time she leaves. A few minutes later a certain doctor leaves on his own but Eliwyn never emerges. Sylus does a targeted search of all the other cameras in the vicinity and miraculously manages to find 360 degrees of coverage but she never exits the building.

Sylus stands and heads out of the room.

“Where are you going, Boss?” asks Luke. “Did you find her?”

“No. I think I need to see a doctor.”

Elinor

***

“You sure you don’t want a ride?” Mike, the site foreman asks Elinor as he gathers the rest of his equipment.

“Thanks, but it’s nice out tonight. I feel like taking a walk.” She shrugs off the offer and grabs her purse. “Have a good night!” Elinor calls as she quickly walks up the street, evading any more attempts at conversation. Mike means well but he can talk for hours and she can’t afford to be late again.

Weariness drags at her, but Elly speeds up until she is almost jogging to bring a little energy back into her body. She is going to need it. Luckily, she doesn’t have far to go. She runs up the rickety stairs to her tiny apartment, locking the door behind her. Her stomach growls but she ignores it and shucks off the layers of clothes, leaving them on the faded carpet, on her way to the bathroom. Once there she turns on the shower and flinches as the icy water hits her skin. Unfortunately, she doesn’t have time for the water to heat up. She quickly washes the dirt and grime of the construction site from her body but skips washing her hair. There isn’t time to dry it.

Shivering she emerges from the shower and dries off quickly, dressing in the clean clothes she set out that morning. As she leaves, she stops by the pantry and grabs the lone granola bar off the otherwise empty shelf before picking up her purse from where she dropped it on the way in, making sure to bolt the door behind her. She is back out the door no more than 10 minutes from when she entered. Once she reaches the bottom of her stairs she breaks into a jog, quickly running the six blocks to the convenience store.

“Hey, Elly.” A pretty brunette, several years younger than Elinor, calls to her from behind the front counter as Elly enters.

“Hey Jenn, slow night?” Elly asks, turning her lips up into the fake smile she has mastered over the last couple of years.

“Don’t jinx yourself!” Elly says as she heads to the back to hang up her coat and scarf, making sure to put the hat and gloves in one of the pockets. Glancing at the clock she realizes she has a couple of minutes and takes the opportunity to pull her phone out of her pocket. No messages. Not surprising really. Most of her friends are halfway across the country and are probably either partying or on a date. If she were honest with herself, it has been several weeks since any of them tried to reach out.

Without thinking she hits the icon for Love and Deepspace. To most people, it is just a silly mobile game but it has helped distract her during the worst time of her life. It’s the only thing keeping her sane.

“No, wait! Shoot!” She tries to close the app immediately but her phone has already frozen.

She wistfully considers trying to try again but shakes her head. There isn’t enough time, even if she could get it to start without freezing. Her phone has been acting up ever since it got dropped. Or to be more accurate, since it was knocked out of her hand. Something must have broken or knocked loose internally because now she can’t do anything but send and receive text messages and calls. Even trying to use the internet makes it freeze.

“Alright, you can count out,” Elly says as she walks behind the counter to join Jenn. It only takes them a couple of minutes to count and verify the money in the drawer. At this point, they have the switchover down to a science. A camera above them records the whole procedure. There are cameras all over the interior of the store and much of the exterior. At first, it had creeped Elly out. It felt like someone was always watching over her shoulder. Not the best when you already have chronic anxiety. Now she wishes the exterior had better coverage. She discovered the hard way that there’s a blind spot.

“I am glad my shift is over.” Jenn groans, rubbing her shoulder.

“Thanks for rubbing it in,” Elly tries to smirk but isn't sure it lands.

“Hey, I stayed up most of the night studying!” Jenn protests.

“I know how you feel. Who needs sleep anyway.” Elly shrugs and rearranges the counter the way she likes. “Take the garbage out on your way out?”

“You always ask me that!” Jenn complains.

“Come on, it’s still a little light outside.”

“Fine, but you owe me.” Jenn grabs the garbage from the can.

“Add it to my tab.”

Grateful she won’t have to leave the store until her shift is over, Elly sits on the stool behind the counter. The night passes slowly with hardly anyone coming into the small convenience store. Elly ends up walking the aisles to stay awake and alert. Luckily tomorrow is Saturday and the construction company doesn’t work weekends unless they are behind so she can sleep in a little.

Ethan, the owner arrives at five a.m. on the dot.

“Good morning.” Elly manages not to yawn. Ethan grunts in response. From the unkempt state of his clothes Elly figures he must not have gone home last night after partying with his friends. At least he kept them busy so none of them came into the store. Ethan doesn’t say two words to her as they cash out the drawer and Elly clocks out. Like normal she leaves through the front instead of the back, staying in full view of the cameras at all times.

In her exhaustion, the walk home takes twice as long as normal, but Elly finally arrives. Remembering to grab the mail she forgot earlier she drags herself the final steps to her apartment. Double-checking the locks, she turns to face the room that serves as the kitchen, dining room, and living area. Fighting back a yawn she drops everything on the tiny counter she uses for everything from food prep to dining space then heads to the bedroom. Barely able to keep her eyes open long enough to slip into an old sleep shirt, she is asleep as soon as her head hits the pillow.

Chapter Text

Zayne

Did you put your phone on Silent Mode?

Be careful when you’re out on a mission.

I saw a hunter wearing their uniform at the airport                                                 

during my last trip.

For a moment I thought it was you.

I check my messages and emails every day.

But I still feel like I’m missing messages from one person.

***

It is past midnight as Zayne thumbs the lock mechanism and walks into his apartment. He slumps tiredly against the door. Memories of when his apartment was filled with life and warmth flood his mind. A stark contrast to the dark empty space before him. It has been a month. Without a reason to get off work on time, it is too easy to fall back into old habits, staying later and later at the hospital, unwilling to face his lonely apartment except to sleep, and sometimes not even then.

“When are you coming home, Elly?” he whispers, pushing away from the door and turning toward his bedroom.

“That is what I would like to know.” A deep mocking voice comes out of nowhere. Then suddenly a figure materializes out of the darkness. Battle reflexes he didn’t know he still had kick in and Zayne immediately calls his Evol while cataloging details. The figure is male. Tall with white hair.

“Tsk, tsk. I’m not here to kill you, it’s hard to get information from a corpse.”

“Sylus, I take it?” Zayne asks stiffly, on high alert for the smallest move from the other man. If what Elly told him is true, he won’t get a second chance if Sylus changes his mind about killing him.

“I see my reputation proceeds me. That should make this conversation go a little faster.” Although he remains mostly obscured by the darkness of the room Zayne can hear the mockery in his voice and it sets his teeth on edge.

“What do you want?” Zayne’s tone is flat and expressionless, belying the tension in his body as he surreptitiously shapes his Evol into a sharp knife ready to throw in an instant.

“I want to know where she is.”

“Then you need to talk to her partner at the Hunter’s Association,” Zayne replies.

“Don’t play coy, Doctor. I know she isn’t on a mission. What did you do to her?” Sylus’ tone deepens as he speaks until the final word is practically a growl and he takes a few steps closer.

“What do you mean she isn’t on a mission? Then where is she?”

“Now we are catching up.” Zayne ignores the mockery in Sylus’ voice. “You were the last person to see her, so what did you do to her?” Sylus’s voice deepens further until he sounds more like a wild animal than a human. A chill goes down Zayne’s spine at Sylus’ words. Alarm bells ringing in his head. But not because of Sylus.

“What do you mean I am the last person to see her? She’s supposed to be out of town on a mission with her partner.”

“Her partner isn’t out of town. Eliwyn was last seen going into Destiny Cafe one month ago. She never left, but guess who did only a couple minutes later?”

While not letting down his guard, Zayne frowns thinking back to the last time he saw Elly.

“First of all, if it was only a couple of minutes later, I wouldn’t have had a chance to do anything, even if I had nefarious intent. Secondly, how do you know she never left?”

 “Let’s just say I have irrefutable proof.” Zayne grits his teeth at the condescension but answers honestly.

“I offered her a ride home but she declined. Said she had been traveling all day and wanted to stretch her legs.”

“She had been traveling. With me. Did she say anything else?” Sylus’ tone turned thoughtful.

Thinking back to the conversation, Zayne tries to remember if anything else stands out but it was a short conversation. Self-recrimination fills him. He should have insisted on giving her a ride. He ought to have tried to find her instead of believing the Hunter’s Association that she was out of town on a mission.

“Say I believe you. That she isn’t on a mission. Where else could she possibly be?”

“That is the million-dollar question.” Frustration in Sylus’ voice and tension around his eyes give Zayne more information than Sylus probably realizes. Sylus is truly concerned. Whether that concern is for Elly or what he can get from her doesn’t matter right now. Elly is the only thing that matters. When she returned from the N109 zone Elly had confided in Zayne everything that happened. She admitted to being worried about why Sylus wanted to resonate with her. Afraid it would be for some corrupt purpose. This train of thought reminds Zayne of something else Elly told him about her trip to the N109 zone.

“I know how we can find her. We need to speak with Xavier.” They immediately left, locking the apartment behind them.

Silence settles over the room. After several minutes a shadow detaches itself from the farthest corner, resolving into a dark hooded form. They are careful to remain out of view of any of the windows.

“Now we’re getting somewhere.” Making sure no one can see him he quickly leaves the apartment. Xavier isn’t at home. That is where he was before coming here. No matter, he knows where they are going to be heading.

***

Elinor

Groaning, Elly is catapulted from sleep by the shrill sound of her digital alarm clock, reminding her there is no rest for the weary. She wakes up almost more tired than she was when she went to sleep. She never remembers her dreams upon waking other than knowing that they are exhausting and last all night. She snuggles into her covers, enjoying the warmth of her bed for a few more minutes as she reaches over and checks her phone. Only a single message has come through. The first in a week. It’s from her bestie, Liz.

Liz: could have used you @ Karaoke last night El! miss you so much!  when u comin to stay?

Elly: miss you too. once I can afford the bus fare I will try to get time off to visit.

Liz: From which job? LOL! I meant when r you coming home for good?

Elly: meet any 1 interesting lately? I need to live vicariously through you.

Liz: No 1! I may have 2 break down and download that game ur addicted to. whats it called again?

Elly: Love and Deepspace haven’t played in a while.  can’t wait for a new phone!  if you play, tel me your fav  or if you can’t choose like me!

 Liz:  don’t think I didn’t notice you  change the subject  breaks over, talk this weekend?

Elly: It’s a date!

With a bittersweet smile, Elly drags herself out of bed shivering in the cool morning air. She isn’t scheduled at the bookstore until noon which gives her just enough time to wash and dry her hair. At least the water has warmed up to lukewarm by the time she rinses the conditioner out of her hair and turns off the tap.

It is worth the sacrifice of a cold shower for the extra fifteen minutes of sleep. In the summer she could get an additional thirty minutes by letting her hair air dry. Right now, she can’t take the chance of getting sick.

Dressing in her nicest work outfit, Elly checks the time. For once she is on schedule and with a sigh of relief, gathers her stuff. Ignoring the empty space that used to hold her expensive monitor and gaming computer she drops the mail on the already over-flowing pile of bills that now fills its spot on the desk and heads out the door.

A short bus ride later Elly is walking into her favorite place in the world, Escape Fantasy Books. She avoids the other employees and heads directly to the back to put her stuff in her locker and clock in. There is a note on her locker telling her where to focus for the day so she quickly heads to the floor.

She is lucky to have this job. A case of the right time, and right place. Because the weekends are so busy the manager hired Elly to help with the mid-day rush. It is her favorite job by far and she wishes they had enough hours for her to quit the convenience store but there are already enough employees to cover the other shifts and she doesn’t want to put anyone out of a job.

It’s the smell that reminds Elly of home as she makes her way to the fantasy section with the cart of books to rearrange and display. There is something magical about the scent of paper, dust, and coffee that takes her back to her childhood and Three Muses, the bookstore back home, where she and her mom would spend hours digging through the maze-like aisles for their next treasure before settling down in one of the many reading nooks to immediately devour it.

At first, her mom read to her. Starting with classics like Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer but eventually branching out to other genres like Fantasy, science fiction, and even romance and non-fiction. Anything that caught her fancy. When Elly was old enough, they would sit in companionable silence as they each read their books.

Elly can describe her life in terms of the books and genres she was reading at any given time. That is probably why she is so obsessed with Love and Deepspace. Playing it is like reading a sci-fantasy book series with detailed and mysterious lore, intrigue, action, and four complex love interests with diverse backstories and motivations. It doesn’t hurt that the love interests are incredibly good-looking either.

Her eclectic reading habit serves her well as she helps customers. Originally hired as a cashier, it hadn’t taken the manager long to realize she was better suited to helping customers on the floor.

Staying active and moving helps Elly when she has a particularly tiring week. It also keeps her from getting too sore on her days off from the construction site. An unfortunate side effect is that she is constantly adding books to her TBR list. It grows longer every day. Lately, of course, it had been nothing more than a mental exercise since her real list isn’t accessible, but it helps to have something to look forward to.

Until then she has to content herself with the old paperbacks, she has read a dozen times. Or, when she rarely has a whole day off, she can make the trek to the library across town. Lately, she is too tired to make the trip. It doesn’t feel worth the effort. Hardly anything feels worth the effort these days. At least she can still daydream. She launches into her current favorite, featuring one of the love interests from the game. She loses herself in the daydream, humming to herself as she organizes the section according to the instructions she was given.

“Excuse me miss, can you help me? I am trying to find the third book in a series about a mouse for my nephew.”

“Sure, are we talking manga, novel, middle-grade chapter book, or kids picture book?” Distracted from her thoughts Elly turns toward the harried-looking man staring around in bewilderment at the large section of new and used books.

“I… I don’t know, he’s turning twelve?”

After a process of elimination, Elly locates the book in question. The happy uncle heads to the register in triumph and she smiles as she returns to her cart.

“Nice work, newbie.” Justin comes over and puts his arm around Elly.

“Thanks,” she mumbles, shrugging off his arm. The smile was gone from her face.

“Want to grab a drink with me after work?” Justin asks with a diffident air. He is a decent-looking guy with brown hair and a medium build and appears to be a normal nice guy.

“Can’t.” Elly ducks her head and puts the cart between them.

“Come on, I just want to welcome you to the store.” He smiles but Elly doesn’t smile back.

“I’ve been working here for two months.” And he still hasn’t taken the hint. It takes Elly a little while to warm up to people, but with Justin, it just isn’t happening. She doesn’t know why, but she always feels on edge around him. Her social anxiety is bad enough that she always makes sure she only goes out with people she is very comfortable with. Although she still has her baseline level of anxiety sending jittery tingling through her body, work is normally okay because she isn’t herself. She’s a cashier, stock person, or construction worker. People don’t see “her” they see the job. For reasons she doesn’t understand the distinction makes a difference to her anxiety. Since she hasn’t warmed up to Justin in a work setting after two months, Elly knows she won’t be able to keep her anxiety in check in a social setting.

“How about a coffee in the shop here?” He continues to push moving like he is going to step around the cart towards her again. Elly blurts the first excuse that comes to mind.

“I have a boyfriend!” Elly freezes for a moment. She can’t believe she said that.

“Really? What’s his name?” There is a sly note in his voice.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but his name is Sylus.” And Zayne. And Xavier. And Rafayel.

“Okay, sorry.” He must believe her because he finally returns to his assigned section.

It’s not as though I lied. She tells herself. I have been seeing them. At least until my phone broke. Hopefully, I will see them again soon. She feels a swell of longing in her chest.

Is it sad I miss them more than most of my friends? It probably says something negative about my mental health or state of mind. She shakes her head, pushing the thought aside. After the last two years, she deserves to lose herself in a harmless love affair with digital men. There are a lot of more destructive things she could be doing instead.

The rest of her shift passes quickly as Elly assists customers and attempts to restock the shelves in between. Before she knows it, it’s time to clock out and head to her next job. She picks up her belongings and heads to the bus stop.

Red streaks of sunset dissolve into the darkening sky and a freezing wind arrives with the evening. The cold blows straight through her light jacket and seeps all the way to her bones. She tells herself that is the reason for the chill going up her spine and gratefully climbs into the shelter of the bus. On her way to her least favorite shift at the convenience store. Maybe she will get lucky and it will be busy.

Chapter Text

Xavier

Why R U so quiet

R U hiding from me or is something bothering U

Well its my turn to find U now

I was lost in the desert a few days ago. Thats why I havent messaged U

No luck finding what I wanted this time. U wouldnt visit such a desolate place either

***

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Xavier can hear the anxiety in Jeremiah’s voice. An anxiety he shares to a greater degree. He sits at a workbench in the greenhouse of Jeremiah’s flower shop, Philo, working on a complex piece of technology he scavenged from the Traceback II.

“It has to. Without her, we are lost.” I’m lost. Xavier pushes down the growing panic that has been building since he realized Elly was missing almost two weeks ago. He has a lot of practice ignoring this feeling. He knows from experience that he can’t dwell on that feeling or it will overwhelm him. He can’t afford to allow that to happen. Elly is out there somewhere.

It took Xavier a couple of weeks before he started to question the official line at the Association that Elly was just on an extended overseas mission, even though she hadn’t responded to or even read any of his messages, and she had never done that before. He just figured she was in a no-hunt zone without service.

After two weeks though he knew something else was going on. Even on extended missions in no-hunt zones they never spend that long out of touch. He started reaching out to contacts on other teams across the globe but they have all returned with nothing. Even using his top clearance level didn’t get him anywhere with the Association’s computer. That was when he knew there was something wrong.

He immediately tried a biotrace using the sample he had taken before letting Elly enter the N109 zone alone. Having been traveling to the N109 for decades by that point, he knows signals won’t get through, but a biotrace is beyond the technology of this timeline and can’t be stopped or tracked. There was no trace. Even after using the Traceback II to boost the feed. Which means only one thing.

“The biotrace only works on living subjects,” Jeremiah hesitates. “Is it possible she’s dead?”

“No.” Xavier has to believe that. Anything else is impossible to contemplate.

“The only other option is that she isn’t on earth. How is that even possible.”

“I don’t know, but it is the only possible explanation. Our arrival on Earth shows anything is possible. I can find her, but I still need a starting point. We know she or whoever took her didn’t use any of the available conventional methods. That removes 95% of the current players from being involved.”

“Can Ever have a special compound or lab that blocks the biotrace?”

“No, the other backtrackers didn’t know enough about the biotrace or that locking onto the wrong trace is part of what threw us off course.”

 “There has to be something we are missing.”

“We have a starting point.” Xavier looks up as a deep and melodic voice interrupts—a familiar voice. Looking up at the tall white-haired man, Xavier is instantly on his feet, sword in hand, but he pauses in confusion when he sees who accompanies him.

“Dr. Zayne, what are you doing with a criminal?”

“Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows,” Sylus replies with a smirk. Zayne frowns at him and then turns to Xavier.

“Sylus arrived at my place looking for Elly. He tells me I am the last person to see her before disappearing.” Although the doctor is very reserved, Xavier picks up a note of guilt in his voice.

“Where?” Adrenaline floods his veins as Xavier grabs the equipment off the bench. Zayne opens his mouth but before he can speak a curl of black and red mist wraps around his mouth.

“Oh, no doctor. You don’t know who we’re dealing with. If we tell him he will disappear. And leave us in the dark.” Sylus raises his eyebrow as though daring Xavier to deny it.

“Then what do you suggest?” Xavier grits his teeth.

“We do this together. I’m driving.” Xavier wants to wipe the smug expression off Sylus’ face but finding Elly is more important.

“Jeremiah, can you activate the Traceback II? We are going to need the boost.” He doesn’t wait for Jeremiah’s response before following Sylus outside.

An unremarkable black SUV is parked at the curb in front of Philo. Xavier climbs into the back behind the driver, letting Zayne have the front passenger seat. It puts him in a better position to disable Sylus if necessary. Zayne knows where they are going so if Sylus makes any suspicious moves Xavier won’t hesitate to take him out.

“Jeremiah will be in place in twenty minutes,” Xavier says as they head down Linkon’s streets. “Will this place still be open?” It was already past two in the morning.

“Yes, it has been taken care of.”

The drive is short but tense. Xavier’s eyes widen when he recognizes where they are.

“This is the last place she was seen?”

“She walked in but never walked out.” There is a frown on Sylus’ face and his voice has lost the mocking quality it had at Philo.

“How is it you were the last one to see her?” Xavier looks at Zayne as they exit the SUV.

“I was leaving when she arrived. We spoke for a couple of minutes. She declined my offer of a ride.” There is a hidden guilt in his voice that Xavier picks up on.

Despite the late hour, the Destiny Cafe’s Silverbay location is brightly lit. There is a sign on the door indicating the cafe is closed for a private party.

“Hey Boss, everything is as you requested. The cafe is yours for the night.” The door is opened by a man whose features are completely obscured by a crow mask and hood.

“Yeah, they were happy to accept your proposal.” Another man with the same mask and a similar height and build steps into view.

“Did you find any other exits?” Sylus is all business. The twins shake their heads. “Is it empty?”

“Yes, Boss,” they reply in unison.

“Check again, then keep watch. Make sure we aren’t disturbed.” The twins split up, one heading outside presumably to check the exterior while the other heads into the darkened hallway that leads to the restrooms and the kitchen area. A few minutes later he returns, nods once at Sylus, and then exits to assist his cohort with patrolling the exterior.

Xavier uses the time to call Jeremiah.

“Are you there yet?”

“Just got here, one sec.” There is a short silence. “Ready when you are.”

“Starting the trace now.” Xavier turns on his device. It has already been calibrated for Elly’s biotrace and emits a high pitch tone. Beginning at the front door, Xavier makes his way around the perimeter of the room. Zayne stands stiffly to the side but moves out of the way as he draws near. Sylus watches Xavier with narrowed eyes. Xavier could do without the audience but knows neither man is willing to leave. Xavier wouldn’t either if he were in their shoes.

Strangely, there is no indication by any of the windows or the exit that she left that way. Methodically Xavier begins to spiral inward, wondering if she was taken through a duct or hidden exit. Without being asked Zayne and Sylus move any chairs or tables out of the way and then back once he has moved on.

When he reaches a spot, directly in front of his preferred chair, and between the potted plant and the chair where Elly usually sits the high-pitched whine changes frequency and then cuts off completely. Xavier freezes where he is.

“What is it?” Sylus immediately steps closer while Zayne remains where he is, his face expressionless.

Xavier ignores them and makes some adjustments to the diagnostics on his device then frowns. He steps away from that spot and the information on the device changes and the tone returns. He does this in every direction with the same result.

“Don’t keep us in suspense. What have you found?” There is a gruffness to Sylus’ voice that Xavier hasn’t heard before.

“It says she is right here, or at least this is where her trace disappears. It is calibrated to locate the latest living trace of the subject. Hers is here. At this exact spot.”

“There’s nothing there.”

“There has to be. The biotrace doesn’t fail. That means she is alive and that she left from this location. Therefore, the way to reach her is here. Why can’t I see anything?” Xavier can’t keep the panic from edging into his voice at being so close but unable to reach her.

“I can see it.” A new voice comes from the dark hallway leading to the restrooms. Years of training have Xavier calling his light blade before his conscious mind has time to make a decision. A hooded and masked figure steps out of the darkness. For a moment Xavier thinks it is one of Sylus’s henchmen until the figure moves closer and Xavier realizes the mask is only a half mask covering the mouth and nose and the clothes and hood are shades of deep purple shading to black.

“Looks like you need my help, yeah?”

***

Elinor

“Miss Elly, it’s your stop.” The bus driver’s voice wakes Elly from her light doze as they pull into the stop only a block from the convenience store.

“Thanks, Joe. See you tomorrow?”

“Nah, It’s my son’s birthday. You’ll have to stay awake.” Joe chuckles to himself as I wave and step off the bus. At a fast walk, she reaches the store in just a few minutes.

“Great, you’re here. I have to leave.” Jenn is shifting her weight impatiently from one leg to the other.

“Okay. I’ll hurry.” Elly chuckles as she rushes to the back to drop off her stuff.

“Got a hot date?” A pretty blush rises in Jenn’s cheeks as Elly joins her behind the counter to count out.

“You do! Who is the lucky girl?”

“Her name’s Lorna. She’s in my trig class.” Jenn smiles shyly.

“This is the girl from your study group, right?” Elly asks while also counting, able to do both after so much practice.

“I really like her.” Jenn nods. Elly smiles and signs off on the drawer.

“Well, you are all set. Have fun tonight. You can tell me all about it tomorrow.” Jenn hurries to the back to drop off the paperwork and the majority of the money in the safe then grabs her stuff and is quickly out the door.

Luckily there is a steady stream of customers to keep Elly awake and occupied as people come in to pick up drinks or snacks and in one notable case, diapers. Just after two a.m. Elly gets up and fills the rolling bucket with hot water and soap. It has slowed down enough that she can do the weekly mopping.

Placing the caution cones at either end of the first aisle she begins meticulously cleaning the floor, humming softly to herself as she works. When Ethan offered to pay extra to have Elly clean the floors on Saturday instead of hiring an outside company she jumped at the chance. She is always very thorough so he doesn’t regret his decision and hires out again.

She is almost done when the chime rings to indicate a customer has arrived. Glancing up Elly immediately recognizes the hulking figure of the man walking through the door. Her heart speeds with adrenaline and a weight settles in the pit of her stomach. She immediately moves the bucket so he can’t easily reach her without knocking it over then continues her work. He looks around then zeros in on her.

“Hello, Elly.” His voice slithers up her spine making her shudder. She wants to hunch her shoulders and duck her head but she forces herself not to. Making herself smaller will only give him what he wants.

“Paul.” He frowns when he sees the bucket between them. He turns and walks around the other aisle. Elly quickly pulls the bucket behind her. She steps behind the counter before he can navigate to where she is. His face turns thunderous and he looks like he’s going to try to get behind the counter.

“Don’t forget the cameras.” She says quietly. He stops in his tracks.

 “Ethan sent me to get snacks.” The frustration is evident in his voice but Elly knows he can’t afford to do anything where there are cameras. He already has a record and another strike could land him back in prison.

“Let me make a list of what you are taking.” His expression turns stubborn. “If you don’t, he will have to watch the security footage.” Elly reminds him, knowing Ethan has already had to talk with Paul about leaving her alone after what happened outside the night he broke her phone. With a glare, Paul turns around and grabs what he wants from the shelves and dumps them on the counter. He ignores Elly as she quickly tallies the items so she can give the list to Ethan later.

Once he is gone Elly begins to shake and tears spring to her eyes. She wipes them angrily. She hates that everything makes her cry, even when she is mad, she cries. Before she can completely pull herself together Paul walks back into the store and starts traversing every aisle.

“Did you forget something?” Elly asks, wiping the last of her tears before he can see her. She pulls the list back out, ready to add any new items, and hopes he doesn’t notice her shaking, but he ignores her and walks back out. This time she makes sure his car leaves the parking lot before letting down her guard and closing her eyes to focus on her breathing to lower her anxiety.

On nights like this, she wishes she could find another job. Every night. She has been looking but there isn’t anything else close enough to walk that has working hours this late. After her heart rate returns to normal and her anxiety has abated somewhat, she leaves the area behind the counter and stops in her tracks.

Black boot prints decorate every aisle of the store. With a sinking heart, she examines them. From the smell and viscosity, it must be some sort of motor oil. That means the bucket of soapy water will be useless. She heads to the back for the industrial de-greaser then moves the caution cones to the front where she pours it over the prints at the door. They are the darkest. She begins the arduous process of removing the prints from the previously clean floor.

Knowing as difficult as this is, she got off lightly helps her make it through the next two hours of scrubbing. Her back is screaming and her arms feel like jelly by the time the floor is spotless. Realizing it is after four in the morning and Ethan will be here soon, she puts away all the equipment she used to clean the floor and spots the overflowing garbage. Fear lances through her.

No! I forgot to ask Jenn to take it. Ethan will be upset if it isn’t emptied by the time he arrives and Elly can’t give him a reason to fire her or even take away the extra money she makes cleaning the floor. Looking toward the back door with dread, she quickly checks the parking lot at the front to make sure it is empty.

Elly takes the garbage bag from the canister and replaces it with a new one. Unable to put off the inevitable any longer she heads to the back, careful not to let the garbage bag touch her clean floor.

Taking a deep breath, she pushes open the door and steps outside, the single tiny bulb above the door does very little to light the area. She runs to the dumpster as fast as she can. It takes only a few moments to lift the lid, and despite her exhaustion and shaking muscles, she levers the heavy bag into the dumpster.

She turns to run back to the store when a form rises from the shadows next to the dumpster. With a scream, she sprints toward the door. As she reaches for the handle she is dragged backward as two meaty arms grab her around her waist.

Adrenaline in overdrive she freezes for a moment before remembering the self-defense videos she looked up at the library after the phone incident. She starts screaming at the top of her lungs, grabs the attacker’s wrists, and then drops into a squat to lower her center of gravity. From this position, she tries unsuccessfully to stomp her foot onto his. At first, she thinks it is working and believes she might escape, but when he fails to lift her, he instead shoves her forward.

Elly’s forehead takes most of the impact with the metal door. Stunned and dizzy, she is momentarily unable to fight back. Before she can recover, her attacker turns her around and drags her to him, lifting her off the ground.

It’s Paul, breath wreaking of alcohol, and eyes wild. He has her by her upper arms. Fear swamps her but she fights past it and the dizziness and starts clawing, kicking, and screaming. Anything she can to try to escape or draw attention.

“Shut up!” Paul slams her back against the building.

Terrible pain shoots up her spine and explodes in her head as it cracks against the metal of the door. Unable to scream or move Elly’s blurry vision begins to darken. She fights to remain conscious, knowing if she doesn’t, she is dead.

“Payback is a bitch.” Holding her up with one hand Paul pulls something from a pocket and Elly sees a glint of metal.

She manages to whisper “Help me” as searing pain lances into her and she is pulled into the darkness.

Chapter Text

Rafayel

do you know what the most heartbreaking thing in the world is

withered flowers beached fish

and me when I can’t see you

its been a week and still cant paint anything

i think my inspiration left with something

Dun even remember what day it is today

The sea outside looks blue but also gray

a gray sea sounds pretty cool? maybe the entire world was gray from the start

***

“How the fuck did he get in here?” Before the words leave Sylus’ mouth, red and black tendrils of mist are reaching toward Rafayel, but he is already moving. Using his Evol chains he drags Sylus and Zayne into a tangled heap causing Sylus’ mist to dissipate momentarily.

“Now, now. I thought you wanted to find Elly?”

“What do you know about Elly?” Xavier hasn’t moved from his spot with his light blade pointed at the masked newcomer.

“I have my reasons for wanting to find her.”

“I should have known.” Sylus chuckles coldly as he disentangles himself and stands in one smooth movement. “Looks like the gang is all here.”

“What are you talking about?” Zayne’s voice is stiff as he glares at Sylus.

“There are only five males our Eliwyn regularly messages and one of them is dead.”

“How do you know who she messages?” Rafayel’s voice deepens at the thought that the head of Onychinus is that familiar with Elly. How close are they? Sylus continues as though he hasn’t heard the question.

“We have the Partner, the Doctor, and the Criminal.” Sylus points at Xavier, Zayne, and then himself respectively. “You must be the artist? Although judging from your current attire I would guess that is only your day job.” Rafayel sees the calculation in Sylus’s eyes as he puts together the pieces of the puzzle he has. Rafayel knows revealing this side of himself to someone as frightfully intelligent and ruthless as Sylus is a calculated risk. He is willing to risk almost anything for Elly.

“Rafayel?” Zayne asks in surprise. 

“Since introductions have been made, I suppose the mask is no longer necessary.” Rafayel removes and stows it in one of the many pockets secreted in his clothing.

“What did you mean you can see it?” Xavier asks, redirecting the conversation back to Elly as he dismisses his light blade. Rafayel appreciates his focus but hesitates to explain. If he tells them what he sees that they cannot, they may be able to figure out where he is from. If it were just himself at risk he wouldn’t hesitate, but it could doom what remains of his people.

“Before I can tell you that, I need something in return.”

“And what would that be exactly?” Sylus’s eyes narrow at Rafayel suspiciously.

“I need each of your oaths that you will never reveal the information, nor use it in any way to harm me and mine.”

“We swear,” Xavier responds immediately. Zayne nods. Sylus continues to look at Rafayel suspiciously.

“If you aren’t willing to do this, you will wait outside while the rest of us go get her.” Sylus gives it a moment of thought before also nodding his assent.

“It needs to be binding. Everyone, gather in a circle by Xavier.” With obvious confusion and no small amount of wariness, the other three men do as they are bid.

“Hold your hands out like this.” Rafayel demonstrates holding his hands to either side with his right hand cupped with the palm facing upward and the left cupped palm downward.

“Is all of this really necessary?” Sylus sighs with impatience.

“Yes, and Elly would agree.” Rafayel leaves no room for argument in his voice. He meets and holds Sylus’s gaze. Not in a display of dominance or anything so juvenile, but to show how serious this is.

“Eliwyn knows what you are about to tell us?”

“Yes, she knows. Now link up.” Rafayel places his right hand under Xavier’s left and motions Zayne to place his right under Rafayel’s left. Sylus stands there a moment more.

“Fine.” Sylus reluctantly joins the men and gets into a position between Zayne and Xavier.

“Now, close your eyes.” Rafayel is the last to close his eyes, ensuring the others take it seriously. “Repeat after me: Rafayel, I swear I will never reveal the information I learn here, nor use it in any way to harm you and yours.” The other men do as they are asked, repeating the oath. Rafayel exhales in relief when he opens his eyes to see three blue glowing fish swimming around the other men. The oath was accepted by the sea for all of them. The reactions of the other men vary from confusion to calculation.

“Thank you. Now to answer your question. The light is refracting differently where the device indicates Elly or the path to reach her is located. It’s a barely discernible square about Elly’s height.”

“How can you see it when the rest of us can’t?” Xavier asks.

“I can see more of the light spectrum than a human can.” Rafayel smirks and watches as the final puzzle pieces click into place for Sylus and then Xavier. Zayne however continues to look puzzled.

“This is similar to a portal I have used in Lemuria. We need to find a way to activate this one.

“How do you suggest we do that?”

“Since Lemurian portals are activated by a water Evol and they are in the water, I imagine this one must work on the same principles. Except with light.”

“So, if I can alter the light to the correct wavelength, we should be able to activate the portal.” Xavier looks to Rafayel for confirmation.

“That is my theory.”

“Since I can’t see it, you will have to be my eyes.” Xavier looks skeptically at Rafayel.

“You may not trust me, but if you want to find her this is the only way.”

“If this is a trick you won’t live long enough to regret it.” Xavier’s eyes darken and a predator looks at Rafayel.

After an hour they are still trying to activate the portal. Sylus is pacing the area in front of the counter. Zayne is watching Xavier and Rafayel with a thoughtful expression. Only the tightness around his eyes and clenching of his hands betrays any impatience.

“Almost there. Just shorten the wavelengths a little more.” Rafayel guides Xavier whose face is set with concentration, beads of sweat dripping down his forehead.

Rafayel can see the refraction on the portal growing brighter the closer Xavier gets to matching wavelengths. An imperceptible change in air pressure brushes Rafayel’s sensitive skin.

“Stop!” Everyone freezes at Rafayel’s command as the inert portal flashes and solidifies into a glowing square portal.

Before anyone else can move, Xavier steps forward through it but just appears on the other side as though it isn’t there.

“Let me try.” Zayne attempts to use it to no avail. Sylus and Rafayel also take turns but fail as well.

“We must be missing something.”

“Oh really? You don’t say.”

“Sylus, your sarcasm isn’t helping.” Rafayel snaps at the criminal mastermind.

“We have all resonated with Elly, right?” Zayne’s question stops the conflict as everyone turns to look at him.

“Go on.” Rafayel urges.

“For a defibrillator to work electricity flows from one electrode to the other passing through the heart. Maybe to activate the portal we need to connect with Elly on the other side. I have noticed that my Evol feels different with her than when I use it alone. What if we try to replicate that feeling? Use our bond with her to activate the portal.” They take turns trying to resonate the way they do with Elly but that doesn’t work.

Frustrated and exhausted they begin discussing options. Sylus suggests he buy the cafe building so they can continue to experiment. Everyone is on board with that plan. Rafayel stops to think while they are discussing options. Soundwaves give off a specific vibrational frequency. Rafayel’s siren song uses a similar mechanism. There is a specific vibration that Rafayel can feel on his sensitive Lemurian skin whenever he is near Elly. Instead of trying to change his Evol, Rafayel uses his innate siren song to emanate that vibrational frequency. Rafayel feels a warming sensation above his heart that quickly grows into a searing agony. He knows without looking the bond mark is glowing and is overwhelmed by pain and terror that are not his own.

“Elly’s in trouble.” Without stopping to think about what he is doing or if it will work, Rafayel calls his knives and sprints through the portal, letting the bond guide him.

He comes out the other side to a scene from one of his nightmares. A hulking figure holds a battered and bleeding Elly against a door with one hand, the other is withdrawing a knife from her stomach. As the attacker pulls back to stab again, Rafayel can feel the bond stretched toward Elly screaming at him to help her.

All warmth and humanity disappear and Rafayel becomes death incarnate. He is utterly silent as he makes three precise strikes against her attacker. The man looks down in confusion, releasing his hold on Elly.

Banishing his weapons, Rafayel catches her as she falls, carefully cradling Elly’s broken body in his arms, and sprints back toward the portal. Her attacker falls to his knees, hands holding his intestines and futilely trying to cry for help as the air in his lungs escapes through twin punctures from Rafayel’s knives.

Once again letting the bond and his need to get Elly to Zayne and Akso hospital guide him, Rafayel passes through the portal, arriving back in the Destiny Cafe.

“She’s been stabbed.” Rafayel’s voice is calm despite the panic coursing through his body. He can’t have gotten her back, only to lose her now.

“We need to get her to Akso Hospital. Sylus is getting the car and will meet us out front.” Zayne is already holding the front door open for him. Sylus pulls up just as they get outside. Without pausing Rafayel climbs into the SUV with Elly in his arms, holding her in his lap as they screech away from the curb.

“Xavier, hand me the towels.” Zayne is wedged in the floorboard in front of the seat. He grabs the towel from Xavier and holds pressure on the wound. “Hold her steady.” He calmly directs Rafayel as they careen around corners going far above the legal speed limit.

“How did you know?” Rafayel asks, not sure how to articulate what he is trying to ask.

“We didn’t,” Xavier replies, voice tight. “When we discovered we couldn’t follow you we decided to plan for a worst-case scenario.”

Thanks to Sylus’s insane driving they arrive at the hospital in a third of the time it would normally take and Zayne directs Sylus to drive right up to the front door. Sylus jumps out first, rushing into the hospital for a gurney, and calls to the nurse on duty to have Greyson paged at Dr. Zayne’s request.

While he does that Rafayel carefully exits the vehicle without jostling Elly while Zayne continues to apply pressure to the wound. Once the gurney arrives Rafayel almost reluctantly puts Elly down, as though he can anchor her to this world if she stays in his arms. He follows the gurney as far as he can and watches as she disappears behind the surgical unit’s doors.

Looking around he realizes Xavier and Sylus have followed and they meet Rafayel’s eyes with similar expressions of fear. Sylus quickly hides behind his aloof mask and steps away to contact Luke and Kieran to take care of the SUV while Rafayel sinks into a seat, completely oblivious to the blood on the floor and chair around him.

She has to live.

The words repeat in his mind like a mantra. He wants to do something, anything to help, but he has no healing ability and there is no one else to pray to when you are the god of the sea.

***

Elinor

Falling. Fleeing. Fear. Pain. Grief. Isolation. Nothingness.

Nothingness….

A haunting melody, barely audible. Gentle waves of sound that pull like the tide. Swept along the notes into a growing swell. Crescendoing into a keening lament of loss and heartache. A cathartic release. The sad refrain ebbing into hopeful harmony.

An ambient hum resolves into whispers. Soft and soothing. A tether of words wending through the emptiness. Awakening stars in the darkness. Filling the void with a galaxy of light.

The deep rumble of the earth. Icy roots delving into the depths and branching upward, enveloping in strength. Shielding and supporting. Growing and blossoming outward. A floral scent that awakens awareness.

Thunder growling and drawing near. Deep and resonant, it seeps into her very soul. Calling her back to herself. A tingling sensation. A crack of sound and a jolt of electricity. The sensation of self. Of embodied consciousness. A memory of crisp evenings and sweltering days. Beneath it all a sense of belonging. Of hope and caring.

Someone is calling her name. A deep voice ragged with emotion. Bone-deep weariness pulls on her mind, trying to drag her back to oblivion, but Elly resists. There is a sense of familiarity and comfort, but it’s the pain and fear she hears in the voice that tugs at something within her, urging her out of the darkness.

***

“I think she’s waking up. Go page the doctor.” The voice sounds tinny and far away. Like an old radio. Elly slowly comes to awareness feeling groggy and fuzzy-headed. As she begins to connect to her body she whimpers and longs to retreat into oblivion. Her head feels like someone is taking a hammer to it. Her back is one long aching bruise and a searing pain burns in her stomach. Where is she? What happened? Scenes come to her in bits and pieces. She sees the store… then the mop… the attack… the knife…

“No… help...” She tries to shout but the sound that escapes her dry throat is a broken whisper. She lashes out trying to escape but her body seizes up as pain radiates from her back into her head and stomach.

“Shhh. It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re safe.” It’s a deep resonant voice that doesn’t belong to her attacker so she relaxes. It sounds familiar but Elly can’t place it. Opening her dry eyes there is a lance of pain from the brightness of the space forcing her to close them again.

“Where am I?” The words come out cracked and hoarse. She tries to swallow but there is a desert in her mouth.

“We had to bring you to the hospital so they could treat your wounds. You almost didn’t make it.” The weight of more expensive hospital bills on top of the others she is still trying to pay off added to everything and everyone she has lost in the last year and it is too much.

“Might have been better,” she whispers.

“Don’t say that!” The voice is rough with emotion. Elly feels a painful squeeze on her right hand and only then becomes aware it’s being held in someone’s grasp. “Don’t even think that. Promise me you will fight to live, no matter what happens.”

Shame fills her. Before this year she never thought of herself as a quitter. She had thought she was strong. Confident. Mostly anyway. She wishes she could be that person again. A tear gathers in the corner of her eye and spills over followed by more.

“Promise me.” Although she doesn’t want to make any such promise, a small part of her still hanging on to hope rises within her.

“I promise,” she whispers. Something brushes away the tears making her flinch slightly but finding the touch soothing she nuzzles into the warm dry hand, the thumb softly circling her temple.

“I’m sorry. I know it hurts. Hang on a little longer. The doctor is on his way.” Elly nods carefully so she doesn’t exacerbate her headache, grateful when the hand doesn’t stop its ministrations. They stay like that for several minutes until Elly hears the sound of a door opening and footsteps approaching. The hand caressing her face makes a final slow circle of her temple and then retreats completely. She feels cold where his warmth had been and it somehow makes her feel lonely but she pushes that thought down.

The beeping of machines and shuffling of feet along with the murmur of voices can be heard. They appear to be discussing her current chart notes and she longs to open her eyes but doesn’t think she can tolerate the pain.

“Vital’s look good. Do we have the results of her latest CT and MRI?” Presumably, this is the doctor. His voice holds a quiet authority. As a female responds to the question, Elly cringes. She remembers how expensive those tests are. Her hand is gently squeezed as though in empathy and she tries to push the thought to the back of her mind. There will be plenty of time to stress over even more medical bills once she is alone. Which will probably be soon. Whoever is sitting with her he likely to leave once the doctor completes their review.

“Elly, can you hear me?” There is a familiarity in the low tone and confidence in the doctor’s voice and the comfort his voice brings makes Elly feel as though she knows him. Has he taken care of her mother before? That doesn’t sound right, though. She knows he isn’t one of her doctors.

“Elly?” What was she supposed to be doing? Her thoughts feel scattered but she manages to remember the question.

“Yes,” She cannot do more than whisper with her dry throat. “Can I have some water?”

“One moment.” The sound of water pouring into a cup makes her throat feel worse and when a straw is pressed to her lips, she gratefully takes a small sip and then another before it is taken away.

“We need to be cautious. Your injuries were worse than we initially thought and it will take you a while to fully recover.” Although clipped and professional his tone has an underlying warmth that continues to tug at her memory and it is all she can focus on. It doesn’t belong to anyone from her hometown and would be too far away anyway. She doesn’t think it is from anyone she has met since moving to Ohio, but she feels like she is intimately familiar with the voice and it is driving her crazy that she can’t figure out why. Deciding to brave the pain, Elly opens her eyes once more but only gets the impression of dark hair and broad shoulders before she squeezes them closed with a cry.

“Possible Photophobia. Yvonne, please lower the lights a little. We will need an ophthalmologist to run tests, preferably Dr. Cameron since she’s the foremost Retina specialist in the city. Elly, I need your eyes to remain closed.” At first, the pain distracts her but her heart begins to pound as more expensive tests and doctors are discussed.

“When can I go home?” She croaks. Her voice, though stronger, is still hoarse.

“I don’t want you to worry about that right now. We just need you to concentrate on getting better.”

“No, I need to go home. I can’t afford to stay.” Elly fights to keep her voice from rising.

“It’s alright, we’ve already notified your work.” Soothes the man to her right, running his left hand from the top of her hand up her arm to her elbow and back. “They understand.”

“No, it’s not just that.” Urgency colors her voice as she pushes past the shame burning in her gut trying to make them understand that they need to release her. “Even if I don’t get fired. I can’t afford to pay for the hospital and if I don’t go back to work, I will lose my apartment too.” Elly’s voice cracks and she swallows back a sob. What will she do if she loses what little she still has? She can’t ask her friends back home for money and even if she can scrape together enough to return to her hometown, there aren’t enough jobs for her to live off and pay the mountain of medical bills.

“Everything is already taken care of. I am paying for the hospital bills and rent, kitten.” That nickname. With a gasp, Elly remembers why that voice is so familiar. Ignoring the shooting pain, she opens her eyes and turns to look at him. He sits hunched over the hospital bed, both hands gingerly holding hers. The chiseled features she is so familiar with look tired and worn. There are faint circles under his crimson eyes and his white hair is disheveled, but it is unmistakable.

“Sylus?” Elly is unable to keep the incredulity out of her voice. Blinking as her eyes begin to water and her vision blurs. A strange out-of-body feeling comes over her and she mechanically turns to her left where the doctor is standing, knowing who it has to be and why his voice had also sounded familiar. Sure enough, her eyes meet his beautiful green and gold gaze. Zayne. Dizziness swamps her and her stomach clenches making her heave which sends razors of pain through her back and stomach.

“Elly, close your eyes.” Zayne places his hand over her eyes but she fights him.

“Am I dead? How is this possible?” Gasping for breath and heart rate skyrocketing Elly’s vision begins to tunnel and she lashes out in fear. Her thoughts are an incoherent maelstrom.

“Calm down, Eliwyn. It’s all right.” Sylus holds her right arm immobile and Zayne manages to grapple the left, despite her thrashing. After a minute she is hit with a wave of relaxation and slumps back, no longer fighting. It feels like her thoughts are flying out of her head one by one and she groggily notices the nurse disposing of an empty syringe. Sylus’s words penetrate the fog and she turns her head toward him.

“I’m not Eliwyn.” She mumbles as sleep pulls her into its comforting embrace.

Chapter Text

Sylus

“Is it possible her head injury is worse than you thought?” Sylus, having stood up to restrain Eliwyn, turns to Zayne with a neutral look. He ignores the feeling that’s clawing at his insides. Zayne is frantically writing something on the electronic tablet in his hand and ignores the question.

“Yvonne, get these tests set up stat. I don’t want to keep her sedated any longer than necessary. Also, I need you to contact Dr. Hadley and request he come in immediately to consult.” Yvonne nods and practically runs from the room. Judging by the look on her face, Sylus realizes she must know Eliwyn pretty well. She may even be a friend. He supposes that makes sense. His Eliwyn spends a lot of time here due to her heart condition and on-the-job injuries.

Zayne places his hand on Eliwyn’s forehead and continues writing for another minute. Sylus swallows back a growl. Finally, the doctor turns to him.

“Sorry, I don’t have long. Unfortunately, I don’t know yet. The pressure on her brain has abated so we thought she was out of the woods. She appears to be suffering from a condition called photophobia which can happen after traumatic brain injury but doesn’t explain why she recognizes you and me but not herself. I will let you know more once I consult with a neurologist.”

“What strain is this putting on her heart?”

“After the surgery, I ran extensive tests on her heart and her Evol. They came back with minimal change from her results last month. Her heart is stable.” The door to the room opens and a young-looking man pokes his head in.

“Dr. Zayne, Dr. Hadley is on his way.” Zayne nods and heads to the door as the young man ducks back out.

“You will keep me informed.” Sylus’s voice is hard and unyielding. Zayne nods stiffly before leaving the room.

“Kitten, what is going on in that head of yours?” Unwilling to let her right hand go, Sylus reaches his left hand to brush a stray lock of hair. He leans down to kiss her cheek and inhales the scent he has grown to know so well. It grounds him and he feels his muscles relax a fraction.

“I’ll make you a deal.” He whispers in her ear. “Whatever you need, I will take care of. Just come back to me.”

Sylus’s keen hearing picks up the sound of voices getting closer and sits back down next to the bed but doesn’t relinquish Eliwyn’s hand. Yvonne and the young man, who popped in earlier, enter the room.

“Taking her for some tests.” Yvonne gives him a sympathetic look as she readies the IV and disconnects Eliwyn from the other equipment.

“How long do you think they will take?”

“Last count about three hours.” Responds the young man. “But they are likely to add more depending on her results. You can wait in here or in the waiting room.”

Sylus stands up abruptly as his phone chimes and wrinkles his nose but answers anyway.

“Can’t get enough of me?” Despite the seriousness of the situation, Sylus can’t help the teasing tone. With Eliwyn in a coma for the past week while they waited for the pressure on her brain to go down, tweaking the other men’s tails, especially the fish’s, is the only entertainment he has.

“You wish,” Sylus smirks at Rafayel’s aggrieved tone. “I was calling for an update since my shift doesn’t start for like six hours.” Once the initial emergency was over, they agreed on a truce so they could take turns sitting with Eliwyn. Sylus stays with her from ten pm until six am, Rafayel from six until two pm, and Xavier from two pm until ten pm. Zayne is the only one not included because he has been at the hospital pretty much 24/7 since they brought her back, sleeping on the couch in his office in case she takes another turn for the worse.

“I was about to send a message. She woke up.”

“What? Why didn’t you message me immediately?” Rafayel says in a more serious tone. “I’m on my way.”

“That isn’t necessary. She…” Rafayel hangs up. Sylus sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. Hoping to forestall a similar response from the hunter, Sylus quickly messages that Eliwyn had woken up temporarily but had to be sedated for more testing and he will send any updates.

I’m on my way.

So much for that idea. While waiting Sylus reviews the reports he received from Luke and Kieran who are watching things in the N109 zone while he is occupied in Linkon and working on a project for him today. Nothing needs his immediate attention so he brings up the files he has begun gathering on the other three men. Now that he has had more time to dig, he is starting to find some interesting information. There is more going on with all of them than he knew.

“Where is she?” Rafayel immediately asks as he walks into the room.

“If you had stayed on the line, you would already know. She has been taken for more tests. I will explain everything once the hunter gets here.” Sylus refuses to call Xavier her partner.

“What happened?” Asks the silver-haired hunter as he walks in five minutes later and flops into one of the chairs. The mild, almost sleepy look on his face doesn’t fool Sylus. From the moment he met each of the three other men in Eliwyn’s life, Sylus’s instincts recognized them as predators.

“We still aren’t sure. She woke up and could speak a little but couldn’t open her eyes because the light was too painful. When the doctor ordered more tests and mentioned calling in another specialist she got upset.”

“Why would that upset her?” The look of confusion on the painter’s face would be comical if not for the situation.

“I think it’s the medical costs she is worried about.” Seeing the other two open their mouths to speak, probably to offer to cover the medical costs, Sylus holds up his hands to stop them. “I told her I have already taken care of the hospital and her apartment until she is recovered. That is when she got a strange look on her face and opened her eyes, even though Zayne told her not to. She recognizes both Zayne and I but became so upset we had to hold her down so she didn’t hurt herself while the nurse sedated her.”

“I could understand being upset that you’re here, but why Zayne? They’ve known each other since they were kids.” Sylus refuses to react to the hunter’s dig.

“I don’t know but just as she was drifting off, she said she wasn’t Eliwyn.”

It feels as if all the air has been sucked from the room.

“What does she mean she isn’t Eliwyn?” Xavier asks.

“You have as much information as I do now. Zayne has called in a neurologist and is running tests. Hopefully, we will know more soon. They estimate three hours for the testing.”

“The circumstances of saving her were unique, to say the least, but we all agree it isn’t possible we brought back the wrong person, right?” Xavier’s quiet voice asks. How can it not be his Eliwen? She looks, sounds, smells, and even feels like Eliwen. That doesn’t dispel the feeling of dread that has been eating at him since she spoke.

“She is Elly.” Rafayel looks at them with unshakable confidence.

“How can you be sure?” Sylus asks, knowing in his soul that she is the correct person but wants to know why the painter is also certain. Rafayel’s expression rapidly flashes through several emotions before settling on wariness.

“Because we are bonded.” The artist admits with a grimace.

Sylus freezes. Lumerian bonds have existed for centuries, but Sylus has only seen a handful of them in all that time.

“How?” The word comes out as a snarl and before Sylus realizes it, he has the Lumerian by the throat up against the wall.

“That is none of your business, criminal.” The painter’s eyes have gone dark and flash with something ominous. “And, it’s a good thing we are because she would have died without the bond.”

“Explain.” Sylus grits out, fighting to get himself back under control.

“When changing our Evol’s didn’t work, I attempted to change my frequency to match hers. It created enough of a connection that when she activated the bond, probably out of desperation, it activated the portal. That’s how I knew she was in trouble. I also think it’s why you couldn’t use the portal. The instant I stepped through I could feel the pull of the bond directly to her and only her. If I had arrived even a few moments later it would have been too late.” Sylus abruptly releases Rafayel and steps back, immediately schooling his face to his typical sardonic mask.

“Does Elly know about the bond?” he asks, trying to use his normal mocking tone but it falls flat.

“No, and she’s not going to.” A grim look in Rafayel’s eyes tells Sylus what will happen if they divulge that information. Sylus has no interest in telling Elly. If he has his way she will never find out about it.

For the first time, Sylus looks over to the hunter and notices that although he hasn’t moved, he has gone pale and is practically vibrating, hands clenched and knuckles white. Somehow seeing the other man upset makes Sylus feel slightly better.

“I take it you took care of her attacker?” Sylus asks.

“He will never bother anyone again.” The look of grim satisfaction on the painter's face only somewhat mollifies Sylus since he didn’t deliver the killing blow himself.

That effectively ends all conversation but no one is willing to leave the room in case Eliwen is brought back from testing so they sit in silence, pouting, smirking, or feigning sleep according to their temperament. Sylus sends a request to the twins and waits for a response. He tells himself the bond doesn’t matter. All that matters is that she is alive. That doesn’t stop the burning sensation in the pit of his stomach. His thoughts turn dark. If the artist were to have an unfortunate accident, Sylus would no longer have to worry about the bond.

Zayne steps into the room pulling Sylus from his thoughts.

“Elly’s results have all come back normal. Even the cerebral angiogram.” As the room seems to take a collective breath of relief he continues, “That being said, she is likely suffering from dissociative amnesia which doesn’t always show up on tests and could cause her to forget aspects of her life, identity, or both. To prevent a repeat of earlier we will bring her out of heavy sedation but keep her medicated to prevent anxiety until we can confirm the extent of her memory loss. I would prefer if we could clear the room until we have had a chance to assess her fully.”

Xavier and Rafayel immediately protest, arguing that they should be here when she wakes up.

“I am not leaving,” Sylus says, looking the doctor square in the eye with an implacable expression. Zayne’s eyes narrow slightly in response but he nods.

“I will need you all to stay clear of the bed and remain silent or I will have you removed from the room.” Zayne’s voice brooks no argument as he leaves the room.

Feeling alternatively too hot and then too cold, Sylus looks toward the door, a tightness in his chest. The memory of Eliwyn opening her eyes and her expression turning from recognition to fear and horror playing on repeat in his head.

***

Elinor

Elly doesn’t think she has ever felt so good as she slowly comes back to wakefulness. Her bed has miraculously become pillowy soft. She feels all warm and cozy. Although she can’t recall the details, she knows she must have been having an amazing dream. Her body feels as light and relaxed as a feather and all her worries seem to have floated away on a candy-flavored cloud. Do feathers relax? Laughing at herself, she genuinely smiles for the first time in almost a year and drifts in comfort and warmth while she can. Soon her alarm will go off and force her to face the world. She frowns at the thought. A warm hand massages the area between her brows and her frown disappears as she hums in contentment leaning into the soothing touch.

“Elly, can you hear me?” She recognizes Zayne’s voice immediately. She must still be dreaming. No wonder she feels so good.

“No, you’re not dreaming. Are you in any pain?”

How can she be in pain when she’s made of stardust and moonlight?

“Doctor, I think we can lower the dosage a little more,” Zayne says. “Elly, do you know where you are?”

 Love and Deepspace. She giggles to herself at the thought. Maybe she’s going through withdrawals since her phone broke. If this is Zayne, then she must be at Akso Hospital. For a dream, it is very different. Although she never remembers them, they feel exhausting and this feels amazing. She hopes she remembers this one. She much prefers this dream. If only she could see him. Why can’t she see? This is the first dream that she can’t see anything.

“It’s dark to protect your eyes.” Too bad, she would like to be able to see him. She’d like to see all her lads. She wonders what they are all doing right now in her dream.

“Who are you talking about?” Zayne’s voice sounds stiff like it did in the first few chapters, but she knows there’s another side to him. Like there is to the other lads.

“Who are the lads?” Zayne, Sylus, Xavier, & Rafayel. The community told her to pick one but she couldn’t. They were mean about it so she stopped participating in the community. There is supposed to be another one released soon. The community thinks it will be Caleb, but she isn’t sure if she believes that theory.

“Elly, do you remember what happened to Caleb?” Yeah, Caleb got blown up with MC’s grandma. It was so sad. Elly had cried. Of course, she was dealing with her own loss at the time so it hit pretty close to home. Elly starts to feel a little less floaty and more clear-headed. Pain is slowly intruding on her awareness.

“It hurts,” she whispers.

“Let me give you something for the pain.” She hears rustling next to her and Zayne saying quietly to hold the dose where it is. She waits and the pain begins to abate but unfortunately, the floaty feeling doesn’t return.

“Are you with us now?” Zayne asks and she hears a shift against the side of the bed she is lying on. Elly starts to nod but stops herself.

“Yes.” Her thoughts still feel disconnected but she realizes this doesn’t feel like any dream she has ever had. She feels strangely disconnected from her emotions. It feels like she knows she should be upset or frightened but can’t be bothered.

“Why do I feel so weird?” she asks.

“We are keeping you mildly sedated to prevent anxiety and help with the pain.” His voice still sounds a little stiff.

“I don’t like not being able to see.”

“We can turn down the light and see how you tolerate it after we ask you some questions.”

“Can, someone hold my hand at least?” Her voice sounds small and she is almost ashamed to ask but she feels so alone in the dark.

 There is more shuffling on her left and someone gently gathers her left hand into theirs at the same time a familiar hand takes her right.

“Sylus?” she asks, turning her head to the right even though she can’t see him.

“I’m here kitten.” He gently caresses her right cheek and she nuzzles against his hand before turning to the left at the indignant huff of breath she hears on that side.

“This must be Rafayel.” She smiles tremulously and a tear slips down as her breath hitches. “You feel so real.”

“Hey, why are you crying? I am right here, cutie.” His soft hand brushes the side of her face.

“I don’t understand how I got here.” She has to be dead or dreaming. That is the only possible explanation. But how can it feel so real?

“What is the last thing you remember before waking up?” Zayne asks stiffly. She can picture the severe look on his face.

“I remember waking up before. Sorry, I freaked out. Although, it may not be the last time. This just isn’t possible.”

“What about before that?” At Zayne’s question, she gets flashes of the attack making her gasp and her heart speed up.

“I was working my shift at the convenience store and was taking the garbage to the dumpster. Paul was lying in wait. I ran to the door so I could get back inside where the cameras were but he grabbed me and when I tried to fight him off, he slammed me into the building. I don’t know exactly what happened after that. I tried to call for help but there is never anyone around that time of night. I… I remember thinking I was dying.” Despite feeling disconnected mentally, Elly’s body reacts to the memory and her breath catches.

“Shhh. It’s all right. You’re safe. Take a deep breath in for me.” Zayne lays a hand on her forehead and she feels a cooling sensation that helps her take a ragged breath in. “Now out.” And she breathes out. They do this for a few moments before her breathing is under control.

“Do you feel up to some more questions?” She carefully nods and Zayne proceeds to ask basic questions about the story world of the game. What year it is? When did the Chronorift catastrophe occur? She answers to the best of her ability based on what she remembers from the game.

“Do you remember saying you weren’t Eliwyn earlier?” Elly nods cautiously. “What did you mean by that?”

By this time Elly can focus a little more and isn’t sure what it is safe to say.

“Who is in the room besides the three of you?” she asks instead.

“Dr. Hadley, Dr. Greyson, Yvonne, and Xavier.”

“Xavier’s here?” Distracted momentarily by this news she moves her head around like she’s looking for him and stops when she realizes how ridiculous that is. “Where are you, Xavier?” She hears footsteps come up the right side to the head of the bed and pressure as he leans over.

“I’m right here.” His soft voice tickles her ear and he presses a light kiss to her cheek. Something clicks into place knowing she has all four of them there. She doesn’t understand what is happening but even though they were just pixels on a phone screen until now, having the four men who helped her through the worst year of her life somehow makes her feel better. This thing she is facing feels so massive and unreal and she is still sure she’s either dead or in a coma somewhere, but she feels like she can face it as long as they are here. Granted, she isn’t sure how long they will be once she tells them where she’s from. It would be her luck to spend her dream in a psych ward instead of with the men of her dreams.

“I need everyone to leave the room except Zayne, Sylus, Rafayel, and Xavier before I answer any more questions.”

“Elly, why do you need them to leave?” Zayne asks over the indignant noises that must be coming from Dr. Hadley since they don’t sound anything like Greyson.

“I can’t explain until it is just the four of you.” There are more protests but Zayne manages to get Dr. Hadley to leave the room. Dr. Greyson and Yvonne leave without a protest.

“All right, they are gone.”

“Is it possible to make it so I can see while I explain this? It is a little scary and I think seeing you will help.” Although she isn’t lying, she also wants one final confirmation that this isn’t an elaborate hoax or trick someone is playing on her. Who would do such a thing she doesn’t know, but it’s better to make sure.

“If we are careful, we can try. Let me darken the room so we don’t cause you pain.” She hears him move around the room and the sounds of rustling fabric and blinds.

“I am going to remove the eye cover,” he warns before she feels his hands removing something from around her head. She closes her eyes just in case. “All done. You can open your eyes.” Slowly blinking her eyes open she is grateful when the stabbing pain from earlier doesn’t manifest.

The room is dimly lit and looks like a typical hospital room. Four handsome and imposing figures fill her vision and take her breath away even though they are shadowy and leached of color by the darkness. Although she can’t make out small details, she can still tell who they are. They fill the space around her in a way she isn’t expecting but that makes her feel safe rather than oppressed or overwhelmed. Sure, she knows how tall they are based on the community websites but knowing in her head and having them physically occupy the space in the room are two different experiences.

She takes a moment to look at each of them and tries not to linger too long but it is hard. They are each imposing and masculine in completely different ways. She could spend hours just soaking them in. She has a moment to wonder if she wants to wake up from this dream but pushes that thought down. It wouldn’t be fair to them. Realizing she is staring she averts her eyes and clears her throat. A telltale heat creeps up her neck and into her cheeks. She takes a deep breath and starts.

“This is going to sound crazy. Before you admit me to a psyche ward, please give me a chance to prove I am telling the truth.” Looking around the room she waits for each man to nod in agreement before continuing.

“My name is Elinor Wrede, not Eliwyn Read. She isn’t real. You don’t exist in the world I am from. I don’t know how I ended up in this dream or why it feels so real, but it can’t be real.”

“If we don’t exist, how did you recognize us?” Sylus asks, in a familiar mocking tone. Although she can’t see it in the dim light, she can imagine his typical bored look from the game. She wonders if she could see him, would she see beyond that to the subtle look of loneliness she always sees while playing the game?

“I created Eliwyn Read. I’ve always thought the name Eliwyn was prettier than Elinor and Read because it sounds like my last name but as a huge book lover, I loved the play on words. Eliwyn Read has been my gaming handle since I was a kid. In this case, Eliwyn Read is the main character I created in a video game I have been playing called Love and Deepspace.” Her eyes must be adjusting to the dim light because she can see the looks of incredulity they share. It’s hardly unsurprising given what is happening. Zayne, Rafayel, and Xavier open their mouths but she holds up her hand.

“You said you would let me prove it to you,” she reminds them.

“All right,” Zayne replies. “Prove it to us.” The look of concern and disbelief on his face is clear as day despite the dim lighting, but Elly is grateful, he is at least going to give her a chance before deciding she’s crazy.

Chapter Text

Zayne

Lips pressed together Zayne nods at Elly to continue, already running through potential diagnoses in his head. She is exhibiting signs of dissociative amnesia but there are several other potential diagnoses he will need to rule out.

“That explains why you said Love and Deepspace earlier,” says Xavier. “I was wondering why you said the name of a song.”

“Wait. Did I say that out loud?” The flush on Elly’s face deepens and although he thinks it’s adorable Zayne frowns at Sylus’s smirk. Her reactions are exactly how he would expect his Elly to react. Another reason he is worried a mental health condition or brain trauma is causing her symptoms.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he says. “That is a normal side effect during emergence from anesthesia and is nothing to be ashamed of.” Despite his assurance, the embarrassment doesn’t leave Elly’s face so he prompts her. “Go on.”

“The only way I can think of to convince you will be to tell you something that your Elly, Eliwyn, couldn’t know. Am I right in assuming you all don’t really know each other? I don’t remember any of you interacting in the game. You only ever interact with MC.” Elly nods at the strained silence, picking up on their mutual animosity.

“What do you mean by MC?” Xavier’s voice is soft. Zayne clenches his teeth as Xavier gently lays his hand on Elly’s arm, crossing his arms to keep from removing Xavier’s hand.

“Let’s stop interrupting Elly and let her speak.” Zayne frowns at Xavier who returns the look with an inscrutable one of his own.

“Sorry, I forget. MC is what the Love and Deepspace community calls the game’s main character, in this case, I am referring to your Eliwyn. To keep from giving away information you wouldn’t want anyone else to have, I am going to be a little vague. To be honest. I don’t know how comfortable you will be with me having the information once you realize I am not your Elly. To start with, you are all keeping secrets from her and outright lying to her almost constantly.” Although there is no accusation in her voice as she looks at him, Zayne immediately thinks of when her grandmother came to him and feels the need to look away but forces himself to maintain eye contact. Out of the corner of his eyes, he notices a slight shift in the stance of the others and realizes she is correct.

“I can also say without revealing too much that all four of you have ties to Philos.” Zayne frowns. He knows Philos is the Greek word for love but doesn’t think that is how it is being used here. Especially seeing the looks of surprise and speculation on the other men’s faces.

“Zayne, since I don’t think you know about Philos yet, I will just say that I know about the Grim Reaper.” Jerking back as though slapped, chills wash over Zayne, the cold lingering in his core. Zayne draws himself up, pushing his emotions down into the center of his being in the container he has built up over the years to remain objective and calm.

“That’s not possible.” His voice is flat. His expression is stern as he meets her eyes like she is a misbehaving child. He expects her to look guilty but sees only the same openness he always sees in her bright eyes, until she speaks again.

“He isn’t who you fear he is.” It feels as though a weight has dropped into the pit of his stomach at the knowing look she gives him. It’s the compassion on her face, however, that sends a chill down his spine. Eliwen may be many things, mischievous, caring, and bold, but he doesn’t think she has ever looked at him with the empathy and compassion the person before him is currently displaying.

“That’s it. Everyone out.” Zayne says but Sylus, a sardonic smile on his face, interrupts him.

“From everyone’s reaction, it would appear Eliwyn is telling the truth about knowing more than we think. Although, I suppose I should call you Elinor? I think it would be counterproductive to leave now. Don’t you agree gentlemen?” He glances at the other men in the room, his mocking tone grates on Zayne but Zayne pushes that feeling down as well.

“You can call me Elly. I’m sorry, Zayne.” Elly’s voice holds a softness he isn’t used to hearing and it wraps around his heart like a balm. She reaches for him in apology and he instinctively grabs it, reaching out with his other hand to caress the side of her face.

“None of this is real and I will probably wake up in my world at any minute, but I want you all to know that if not for the bond I have felt with you for the last six months through the game, I don’t think I would have made it. I truly wish I was your Elly.” Tears spill over at this last statement and Zayne wipes them away making soothing sounds to try to calm her as she begins sobbing. His heart yearns to take her in his arms but she is still healing and he doesn’t want to hurt her so he holds back.

“I don’t know why I am crying. I don’t normally cry this much.” Elly manages to say around sobs.

“I’ve got you, cutie.” Rafayel ignores Zayne, carefully climbs onto the bed next to her, and somehow manages to wrap his left arm around her shoulders without putting any pressure on her while simultaneously balancing on the edge of the bed so as not to jostle her. It is a feat of dexterity that Zayne could not duplicate.

As much as he wants to protest, he can’t deny her comfort as she grabs Rafayel’s arm with her free hand, turning her head into his shoulder to muffle her sobs. Zayne’s hand is pressed against Rafayel but he refuses to move it or let her go. She stays this way for several minutes until she sniffs and raises her head, tears no longer streaming from her eyes.

“I am sorry.”

“It’s a perfectly natural side effect of the sedative we had you under. Alright, it is time to give Elly some space and for Dr. Hadley to do some cognitive tests. I will let him know. The rest of you will need to wait outside.” Zayne’s tone indicates he will not budge so begrudgingly the other men leave the room. As he leaves the room, he sees fear cross her face for just a moment.

“Don’t worry, I will be back and I will stay with you. Just don’t tell him about the different world thing and you should be fine.” The relief in her eyes is immediate and Zayne feels a small piece of satisfaction that his presence brings her comfort. He doesn’t know if he believes her but he can’t argue that she has knowledge she shouldn’t have. He has never told another person about his nightmares of the Grim Reaper, not even his parents. And that look that she gave him. He didn’t realize how much he needed to see that acceptance and empathy directed at him, until now. How does this Elly, if indeed she is not his Eliwyn, know that he did?

Quickly locating Dr. Hadley, Zayne apologizes for asking him to leave, explaining that due to the nature of her position at Hunter’s Association and the sensitive nature of her work, she has to be cautious. He explains that as long as they stick to standard cognitive function tests and questions, they can do a complete evaluation. This mollifies the miffed doctor who returns to the room with him. True to his word Zayne stays with her.

 The evaluation takes almost thirty minutes. There are a couple of times when Zayne isn’t sure how she is going to answer but she manages to sidestep any problematic aspects of the neurologist’s questions but still provide a coherent response. When Dr. Hadley asks a question from the past that she doesn’t know she chuckles and explains that she doesn’t have many memories of her life or education before the Chronorift catastrophe because she had been attacked. After checking her medical history Dr. Hadley nods and accepts this explanation. Zayne is both relieved and proud of her.

“Final question. You said you weren’t Eliwyn Read, you were Elinor Wrede, yet your medical records clearly show your name as Eliwyn Read. How do you explain that?” Zayne’s eyes widen and he holds his breath. There is a strange glint to Dr. Hadley’s eyes and sharpness to his gaze that bothers Zayne but he isn’t sure why. Although he doesn’t know Dr. Hadley well, he hasn’t heard anything negative about him from the other doctors and nurses.

“I’m adopted.” Elly takes a shuddering breath before continuing. “The woman I call my grandmother took me in after the Chronorift catastrophe but she is not related to me by blood and didn’t know me before that. I think the name she gave me, Eliwyn Read, was as close to my real name as I could remember at the time. As I have gotten older, I have occasionally remembered snippets of memories and my real name was one of them. I haven’t told anyone that before.” She sounds so sincere that Zayne finds himself believing her, even though he knows the real reason she thinks her name is Elinor. Disappointment flashes across the doctor’s face but is quickly masked, again giving Zayne a moment of unease.

“Thank you, Doctor. If you can send me a copy of your assessment and results as soon as you have completed your notes, I would appreciate it.” Zayne ushers the other man out, making a mental note to look into his history a little deeper. This is the only time they have both consulted on the same patient since Dr. Hadley moved to Akso Hospital six months before so Zayne knows very little about him.

“Nice work,” Zayne says once the other doctor is gone. “Let me get you some more pain medication so you can rest.”

“When can I leave, Zayne?” Elly slumps back into the bed, the lines in her face showing pain and exhaustion.

“Luckily your back was only severely bruised and the swelling in your brain has gone down, but you need to recover from the knife wound and strain on your heart. I am also concerned about Photophobia. I would prefer to keep you for at least a couple more days for observation.”

“I used to get so mad at MC for not following doctors’ orders or pushing herself too hard because I have always tried my best to, but I think I understand now.” She laughs without amusement.

Zayne frowns before remembering that MC means Elly. The other Elly. Is it possible she is his Elly with a bizarre manifestation of dissociative amnesia? If that is the case, how does she know about his nightmares?

He still feels a desperate yearning for this Elly. If anything, the feeling has been growing since almost losing her. How can he still feel that way if she isn’t his Elly? She should feel like a stranger to him, but she doesn’t. She feels like home and the pain in his chest at knowing there are other men in her life with whom she might feel a deeper connection than him is just as real. As always Elly picks up on even the most subtle of his emotions and reaches for his hand.

“If it makes you feel better, I don’t think this was all supposed to be the same timeline. I think the game was set up so that it was four parallel timelines like alternate universes. One for each of you where you have her whole heart. For your sake, I hope I wake up soon so you can have that again.”

“What about you?” he asks softly, thumb gently drawing circles on the back of her hand. “Who will you have if you wake up in your other life?” The grief and loneliness that is reflected in her eyes momentarily before she closes them tells him everything he needs to know. His heart squeezes remembering a time not too long ago when he had felt the same.

“I’ll have the nurse send in some pain medication. Do you want me to send the others away or let them back in?”

“Do whatever you think is best.” She doesn’t look at him, and Zayne can feel her mentally pulling away. He tells himself that it is her choice if she wants to pull away from him, but that doesn’t stop the deep ache in his chest.

Perhaps it will be best for her not to be alone right now. Since he will need to review her medical history to confirm if there are any differences, no matter how minute, between her latest results and the last tests run on Eliwyn he reluctantly decides to have the others keep her company.

He wants to lean down and kiss her cheek but restrains himself. Instead, he heads to the waiting room where he advises the others, that they may return then heads to his office. He continues to mull over everything that has happened. Although the idea of going back to a time when it was just, he and Elly and their budding relationship without competition from the other men sounds appealing, he keeps seeing the look on her face after he asks her who she would be going back to. Try as he might he can’t dispel that look from his mind.

Even once he has settled at his desk to review her medical records, he finds himself unable to concentrate and instead finds his mind drifting back to thoughts of this Elly and what will happen to her if she is indeed telling the truth. He shakes his head and tries to focus.

Since the rescue Zayne has hardly gotten any rest. Instead finding himself checking on her at all hours and grabbing an occasional nap on the couch in his office. Despite knowing she has the best round-the-clock care he hasn’t been able to pry himself away to return home for more than a quick shower and change of clothes. Knowing there are three men unwilling to leave her bedside contributes to his uneasiness and lack of focus.

The coffee on his desk is cold, but he takes a large swallow in an attempt to wake up, grimacing at the unexpected bitterness. They must not have put in the extra syrup he requested. Ignoring the taste, he downs what is left. Unfortunately, it doesn’t appear to work. The paper in front of him starts to go in and out of focus, and after reading the same line three times, he decides it would be better to take a quick nap.

Zayne stands so he can move to the couch, catching himself on his desk as he gets a little light-headed. A message comes through on the group thread he shares with the other men so he changes direction and heads to the waiting area. The nap will have a wait a little longer.

***

Elinor

After Zayne leaves, Elly temporarily considers trying to get up but the moment she tries to move her head it starts pounding and a bolt of pain shoots up her spine. To say nothing of the burning in her stomach. She decides to wait until the medication from the nurse kicks in. The water she used to take them has already helped her parched throat.

Laying back, she wonders when she will wake up. For her sanity, she both hopes and fears that it will be soon. Although she has hardly interacted with the four love interests from the game, she already feels more connected to them than anyone in Ohio. If she has to admit it, she feels a stronger tie even than she does to anyone in her hometown, except Liz. This could prove catastrophic to her mental health once she wakes up. Especially since making the move with her mom over a year ago to be closer to Cleveland Clinic’s cardiac care ward. Her other friends all moved on with their lives and she doesn’t have any remaining family now that her mom is gone.

It is torturous knowing she is going to end up back in her barren existence after having been here with people who care about her. Even though “here” is either a dream or hallucination.

“They don’t care about you, Elly. It’s MC they care about, not you.” She tells herself. “That’s why you need to hurry and wake up so they can have her back.” Thinking of waking up back in her old life sends a stab of pain to her heart and makes her eyes tear up. “Maybe I should ask them to leave. I am already too attached and it will only get harder the more time I spend with them.” A light knock on the door interrupts her train of thought.

“Come in.” She calls. Xavier enters yawning and rubbing his eyes. Elly’s smile is watery but real. It is cute to see him in sleepy bunny mode live and in person... or in a dream or whatever this is. He smiles back at her reaching for her hand but stops just short of touching her. He looks at her questioningly. She nods her head and grasps his hand in hers. He pulls it to him and cradles it against his chest. There are calluses on his fingers and palm but they aren’t rough like she would have expected.

“Are you okay, honey?” His soft voice washes over her and she closes her eyes as it soothes something inside her.

“Just waiting for the pain meds to kick in. It’s not too bad, right now though.” He appears relieved.

“I wanted to come in and say goodbye before taking off. It’s still Sylus’s shift and I need to be at the Association soon. I’ll be back this afternoon if that’s okay with you?”

“Shift?” Elly looks at him in confusion. Sylus is the leader of Onychinus and Rafayel is an artist. they don’t have shifts.

“After we almost lost you during the surgery we decided it would be best to have someone on site in case you took a turn for the worse. Sylus takes the night shift. Rafayel days and I am here in the afternoon and evening.” Elly nods thoughtfully.

“That makes sense given each of your work hours and sleeping habits.” Xavier frowns at this as his eyes harden fractionally and Elly wonders what she has said to put that look on his face.

“How do you know their sleeping habits?” Xavier’s voice loses its softness and gains a dangerous edge. Despite the dimness she sees his blue eyes darken. Elly can’t deny the thrill of arousal that runs through her at the change in his demeanor. She closes her eyes for a minute trying to get her reaction under control before responding. She meets his intense gaze and instantly regrets that choice as her body flushes with heat.

“From the game.” She stammers. “The way it is set up there are side stories that give more information about the different characters from other points of view than the MC’s. That is how I know you can fall asleep at the drop of a hat or even standing up. You used to be Evol Police before faking your death and you spend days and nights at a time killing wanderers that not even Unicorns is aware of.” She rambles to cover her embarrassment at her body's reaction but is careful not to include information about the other love interests from the game. Partially so she doesn’t upset Xavier further and partly because she could feel the tension in the room earlier and doesn’t want to reveal any vulnerabilities that can be exploited. Care for them as she does, Elly has no illusions about their dark sides and knows they would not hesitate to exploit a weakness in the others that would further their own goals or protect MC. Her explanation seems to mollify him because he nods and the softness returns to his voice and eyes.

“We’ll have to discuss these side stories more when I return this afternoon. If you need me at all before then, call me. Please?” Elly’s heart squeezes at the sadness and longing in his eyes. His story is so full of loneliness and tragedy. She knows what that is like. That is part of what won her over to him, to begin with. She had sobbed at the end of his anecdote about his first time meeting MC.

“I will, I promise.” She nods, but snorts internally, knowing the likelihood of him being willing to speak about his history is slim to none. In the game, he is a master at evading questions about his past. Or the present to be honest.

“Goodbye, honey. I promise I will be back soon.” Xavier leans toward her, giving Elly plenty of time to stop him. She smiles a yes. Thinking he is aiming for her cheek she tilts her head to give him better access but he takes her chin in one hand, turns it, then presses his warm plaint lips to hers in a chaste kiss then turns and leaves. Elly is frozen and can’t seem to take a breath as a feeling of warmth spreads out from her lips to her whole body. In wonder, she raises her hand and tenderly touches her lips. She can still feel his lips on hers.

Calm down, Elly. It is just a little peck on the lips. I am sure it means nothing to him. Get control of yourself before someone else comes in.

Chapter Text

Xavier

Closing the door to Elly’s private hospital room, which Sylus insists on picking up the tab for, Xavier heads back to the waiting room, messaging Zayne on the way to meet him there. As Xavier enters, Rafayel gets up to go say his goodbyes, but Xavier waves him back down next to Sylus.

“Everything’s alright, yeah?” Rafayel asks with a concerned pout, sitting back in his chair.

“One minute, we are waiting for Zayne.” Xavier, though outwardly calm, waits impatiently for the other man to arrive. Luckily it doesn’t take very long. He must not have been with a patient when he received the text.

“Yes?” As always, the doctor is coldly polite and succinct.

“I don’t think we should tell her how we brought her here yet,” Xavier says without preamble.

“I thought we agreed it’s best to be as forthcoming as possible. About that, at least,” Sylus asks flatly, his normal mocking tone noticeably lacking.

“I still think we should tell her. Just not yet. I overheard her say something about going back to her world so we could have our MC back.” Rafayel audibly protests this and Sylus’s eyes widen. Zayne is the only one who doesn’t react to this information.

“Yes, she said something similar to me.” As three glares turn in his direction Zayne quickly explains. “She just said she hopes she wakes up so we get “our” MC back. It never occurred to me that she might try to return to her world. Especially in her condition.” The doctor pauses, looking like he’s trying to stifle a yawn before he continues, “I still haven’t completely decided that she isn’t suffering from a cognitive distortion or memory impairment like dissociative amnesia. She did, however, manage to pass all of Dr. Hadley’s tests with minimal prevarication on her part.” Zayne seems like he might say more but closes his mouth. Xavier’s eyes narrow but he lets it go for the moment. He needs to make his point.

“Exactly, we still don’t know for sure how we were able to get to the world we found her in and therefore how to get her back, assuming that is something she decides she wants to do. There is no guarantee that even if she finds and successfully uses the portal she will go back to the correct world. She could end up anywhere. Rafayel’s bond notwithstanding, we don’t even know if Elly leaving would bring Eliwyn back. It’s just not safe to tell her yet.”

Xavier knows in his soul that regardless of whether she is the Eliwyn he has lived above these last few months or not, Elinore Wrede is the reincarnation of his love. He always knows it’s her. No matter what world they are in, as soon as he meets her. There is a light that surrounds her and her alone. Just as it does now. Unfortunately, that means she is likely to sacrifice herself in a heartbeat if she thinks it will help the ones she loves. That is not something he can allow. Not after so many failures. Regardless of how she got here, she is here now and he will not fail her again.

Thankfully the other men begin to nod in agreement after thinking it through.

“Alright, we will wait to tell her until we have more information, but no later than that,” Sylus says. Zayne nods curtly and turns to leave but Xavier holds up a hand to stop him, motioning him a few steps away while Rafayel turns to Sylus with a worried look on his face and says a few words.

“Zayne,” Xavier notices that his face is drawn with exhaustion and he is stifling another yawn. When was the last time he slept? “There’s something else she said isn’t there?” He can see the indecision on Zayne’s face and pushes.

“Right now, anything could prove to be crucial. We just don’t have enough information.” Zayne nods thoughtfully.

“It’s something she said about the game. She said that we were each supposed to be on separate timelines, like parallel worlds, and that there should have been an ‘MC’ for each of us. That is when she said she hopes she wakes up soon so we can have that again.”

“Thanks.” Xavier nods to Zayne as he leaves.

Sylus hands something to Rafayel, who without waiting for a response, turns and almost runs toward the garage exit.

“Let her know I’ll be back, yeah?” he calls over his shoulder on his way out.

Ignoring Sylus now that he has his way, Xavier turns to leave.

“I will protect her. Even from herself.” Sylus’s voice stops him. Xavier turns back.

“As will I.” An understanding passes between them before they both leave the room. Xavier heads out of the hospital and Sylus presumably to Elly’s room to finish his shift. Xavier is surprised to find an ally in Sylus and wonders what the other man wants from Elly which makes him willing to draw the same line in the sand for her that Xavier is. Whatever it is, Xavier will need to be cautious and not let his guard down. Especially given what he knows about Sylus’s business dealings. Although they may agree now, Sylus had better not get in his way.

Needing to change and get ready for work, Xavier leaves the hospital and heads to an empty alleyway where he can’t be seen. He then activates his Evol and arrives instantaneously on his balcony, entering through the door he purposefully keeps unlocked.

Only once he is in the shower does he allow himself to think about the kiss. Just the thought of it sends a pulse of need through him. The warmth of her breath on his face. Her surprised gasp when he pressed his lips to hers instead of her cheek as she expected. How her scent had washed over him, driving away the antiseptic smell of the hospital until all he could smell was the delicate fragrance that was slightly fruity and slightly floral, but all her.

He imagines being able to take his time. To tease and coax her until she opens her lips to him. His body begins to stir at the mere thought of it but, he ignores his body's response and instead quickly finishes his shower. He needs to focus and has ample experience pushing down his desires. It is too soon for these thoughts anyway.

Although he has kissed his guiding starlight before, he hasn’t kissed Elly. It won’t be fair to her if he tries to push it more than he already has. Truthfully, he shouldn’t have kissed her at all. It had taken all his willpower to keep it innocent. But, after the tide of jealousy had swamped him at her knowing so much about the other men and then seeing her eyes dilate and skin flush in reaction to him, he couldn’t help himself. He had to show her how he feels. Going forward he will be more cautious so he doesn’t scare her away. Especially given that he has three rivals who feel more than just friendly affection toward her.

Xavier dresses quickly in his uniform and despite the early hour heads to the Hunter’s Association headquarters. Once there he heads to the captain’s office. Jenna is sitting at her desk reading something on the holoscreen before her.

“Ah, Xavier. Do you have anything new to report?” Her voice is a rich alto that although authoritative isn’t at all domineering. She exudes competence and confidence. Given her history it is understandable. Not only did she help save Linkon during the Chronorift Catastrophe, but she was also a founding member of Hunter’s association and was their top-performing Hunter before being made captain. She now heads the most successful and elite team in the association.

“She woke up. They are still monitoring her and she will need to stay for observation for several more days, at minimum. She passed the cognitive tests and they are cautiously optimistic. It will take time to heal and they don’t yet know how long.”

“That is understandable. Poor girl hasn’t had an easy run of things. First her family and now this.” The captain shakes her head. The story he and the other men had agreed to tell the authorities and the Association is that Elly was being held somewhere unknown and managed to get free but was injured in the escape. So far only he and the three other men plus Jeremiah know she was rescued from another world. He is glad they did that now. Especially considering she thinks everything that happened is part of a dream about a video game in that world.

“Have there been any updates on the investigation into the attack or her whereabouts before that?” Or why did the Association have her listed as on a mission when she wasn’t?

“Nothing new. All the video footage that might have given us more information has been corrupted somehow. Whoever is behind this knows how to cover their tracks. Are you sure we don’t need to assign someone from the Association to protect her in case they try again?” Jenna’s voice holds a note of uncertainty.

“For now, she has someone with her around the clock. I will let you know if that changes or if she needs additional security.”

“Fair enough. I want her safety to be your number one priority. Any other investigations you are working on can be reassigned. Dismissed.” Xavier nods and leaves her office, heading to his desk. There is no one else around this early, but he only grabs a couple of things before heading out again. Once he is out of sight, he activates his Evol and arrives on a back patio. Through the glass in the door, he can see a slender dark-haired man as he sips a cup of coffee while his son eats eggs and toast and chatters at him. Xavier knocks on the glass door.

“Uncle Xavi!” Frank calls as his dad quickly opens the door admitting Xavier to his kitchen. Xavier grabs a piece of bread and starts chewing it thoughtfully.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Ulysses sits back down at the table indicating a chair to Xavier.

“I need to request a favor.” Xavier tries to keep his tone light as he sits down and does his best to ignore the weight in his stomach.

“Sure, anything.”

“I need all the data you’ve collected since we finished building it.” Ulysses frowns at Xavier.

“That is decades worth of information. What are you looking for exactly?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

“You realize it will be like looking for a needle in a needle stack if you don’t have a starting point? It would take years to sift through the data. Maybe decades.”

“Just get it for me. Please.” Although his voice is soft there is an intensity to Xavier's request and his friend nods.

“It will take me a little while to gather.” Xavier nods, understanding how much work this is going to be, and appreciates his friend being willing to do so. A thought occurs to him.

“What do you know about quantum entanglement?” he asks.

"Spooky action at a distance?" The professor laughs, quoting Einstein.

“Theoretically if two particles that are entangled at a distance suddenly find themselves in the same location it doesn’t affect them because they are individual particles and can coexist. What happens if two multi-celled organisms become entangled but in different parallel worlds then enter the same location?” The knot in his stomach grows.

“Many Worlds theory combined with entanglement? That could be a different story. Although entanglement of anything, even a particle, between realities is improbable to the point of being ridiculous.”

“Like the Deepspace Tunnel?”

“Point taken. When do you need this by?”

“Yesterday.”

An alert on his phone indicates he has received a message. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he reads the message and shoots off a quick response to the group chat.

“I have to go.” Xavier stands, nodding to Ulysses before leaving the way he entered. Luckily, he has been to his destination recently and in a flash of light is gone.

***

Elinor

Fifteen minutes after Xavier leaves, Elly is still thinking about the kiss. Get yourself together, Elly. It meant nothing to him. He and MC probably give each other a peck on the lips all the time and it is just habit. Luckily a knock interrupts her thoughts and she takes a second to compose herself as much as she can, feeling her cheeks to make sure they are no longer burning.

“Come on in, Rafayel.” Her voice sounds weary even to her ears. The pain medication is taking a while to kick in.

“Sorry, Kitten. I can get fish-boy if you would rather.” Sylus’s voice is teasing as he opens the door, but she thinks she hears a note of vulnerability in his voice. He pauses on the threshold and in the light from the hall it looks like his nostrils flare for a moment. Then he continues into the room.

“No, don’t. Sorry, Sylus. Since Xavier came to say goodbye, I thought Rafayel was next to say his goodbyes. Something about shifts, I believe? If you are here to say goodbye instead, I understand. I’m sure you have a lot of work to do in the N109 zone. You don’t need to stay. I will be fine on my own. I am getting pretty sleepy from the medication anyway.” Elly doesn’t want to be a bother. Sylus chuckles a little. He pulls the chair back to the spot next to her bed on her right. Then he gingerly takes her small hand in his large one.

“He has a few things to take care of before his shift so he took off but he will unfortunately be back. As for the N109 zone, Luke and Kieran are handling everything at the moment. I don’t have anywhere else I need to be.” Elly smiles at him. Another real smile despite her weariness. Wow, if this keeps up giving real smiles might become a habit.

“That is one of the things I love about you,” she pauses when his grip tightens almost painfully for a moment before relaxing back to normal.

“What do you mean.” His voice is almost a whisper and has none of the teasing or mocking tone she has heard so often in the game.

“Just how you always prioritize spending time with MC. Always offering to pick her up, inviting her to the base, or even just checking in on her. I know she never said so, but I notice and appreciate it. I know from experience how quickly someone can be ripped from your life when you least expect it.”

“What do you know about MC,” Sylus asks, a slight teasing note back in his voice. Elly shrugs.

“You probably know more than I do. I just created her avatar. She’s fun to play. Especially at first because she started a new job at the Association and was meeting new people. The battle mechanics were fun and challenging since I wasn’t used to playing on mobile. She was also carefree, despite her history. That changed of course, but I was already hooked by the time I got to the explosion. If I hadn’t been, I don’t know if I could have kept playing.”

“Why?” Sylus’s voice sounds curious and warm. For the first time since it happened, she finds that she doesn’t mind talking to someone about her mom. At least she doesn’t mind talking to Sylus. And although exhaustion weighs on her, she’s still in too much pain to succumb to sleep. Besides, what if she wakes up back to her normal life if she sleeps? As much as she wants them to have their MC back, she also wants her idyll here to last just a little longer. This might be her last chance to see Sylus. Sylus is still looking at her expectantly, even though her mind wanders a bit so she tries to focus.

“Because I lost my mom to heart disease a couple of days before I read that part of the story. When MC lost her grandma and Caleb it felt like losing mom all over again.” She closes her eyes and breathes through the grief that always threatens to overwhelm her when she thinks about her mom. Mama was the only person who was truly in her corner. Both as a parent and a best friend.

“That must have been hard.” Sylus squeezes her hand gently. “I have a question. If this is a game in your world, why did you disappear for over a month?”

“Oh no! I forgot about that aspect of the game! I only ever saw videos about it on TikTok. The game has a messaging function, just like a normal cell phone. I think it’s a way to encourage engagement or something. Anyway, if someone doesn’t log into the game, they receive text messages from the characters asking if she is okay and for her to text them as soon as she returns. It didn’t even occur to me that by not logging in MC wouldn’t be here for you.”

“Why weren’t you logging in, kitten?”

“My phone was bro…ken.” Elly’s breath catches in her throat and her heart starts to speed up at the memory of that night.

“Kitten, what’s wrong? Do I need to get the doctor?” The concern in his voice almost undoes Elly but she wants to be strong so she closes her eyes and takes a couple of deep breaths, shaking her head slightly.

“It happened the first time Paul attacked me.” Sylus stiffens at this new information but he doesn’t interrupt her.

“I was working the graveyard shift at the store. On my break, I went outside for some air and was playing the game. It was late and I needed to grind through a couple of battles before the server reset. Paul showed up. He hit on me and I tried to turn him down. I am not comfortable around most people until I get to know them well.” Elly tries to smile self-deprecatingly despite her embarrassment at admitting this flaw and glances at Sylus.

“Sorry,” he says releasing her hand immediately and pushing back the chair to give her space.

“No, please… that’s not...” She stumbles over her words in her haste to explain, feeling the loss of his warmth immediately. Why does she always mess things up? She can feel her anxiety starting to build at the misunderstanding. She forces herself to stop and take a deep breath.

“I didn’t mean you. Please come back. You’re different. You make me feel less anxious, not more.” She reaches out her hand to him and he reluctantly moves the chair back to where it was but that isn’t enough. Elly feels bereft without the connection of their hands.

“Please, Sylus?” she reaches out to him. “I want to get the rest out, but I need your help.” Her throat is thick with shame at her weakness and her hands start to shake slightly. His eyes widen and he quickly enfolds her hand in both of his.

“Sorry, kitten.” She can hear the empathy in his voice and a hint of something else that she can’t name. She shakes her head at him.

“It’s not your fault. You are always very respectful of personal space and boundaries. Well, other than the first four days that MC met you. I never held that against you.” Elly takes a few steading breaths and continues.

“Anyway, I don’t know what I said but when I tried to go back inside, he decided to stop me and knocked me to the ground. I screamed and luckily that distracted him. The next thing I knew I was back in the building and locked all the doors. I still don’t know how. My memory is a little choppy. Probably PTSD or something. I got very lucky but once inside I realized I didn’t have my phone anymore.”

“When Ethan, the owner, came in for his morning shift I told him what had happened. He said it was my word against Paul’s and it would be better if I forgot the whole incident. When I said we could take the security recording to the police he told me that the camera was broken. When I finally felt safe enough to search for my phone, I discovered that most of my apps, including the game, would no longer run. I’ve been trying to save up for another one.”

A thought suddenly occurred to Elly.

“Can you tell me how far along we are in the story? Since I am not in the N109 Zone, you must have already rescued MC and the auction has happened but I don’t know how far beyond that we are.”

“Since I don’t know the story, I don’t know where we are supposed to be in it. Why don’t you tell me what you remember and I will tell you if it has happened?” Although his expression hasn’t changed, Elly picks up a sly undertone to his words that makes her smile.

“Nice try. I won’t give you spoilers. How about I give you a hint and you can expand on it if it has happened?” After seeing him nod Elly continues. “Dove?”

“Yes, I looked after a dove while Eliwyn was on a mission.”

“Has Misty Invasion happened?”

“We haven’t had an invasion at the base, no.”

“Sorry, I forgot you wouldn’t know what they called the events they hold when they release new memories. This memory was supposed to come out a couple of days after my phone broke, so I never got it.” She thinks hard for a moment, trying to remember what she can from the trailer for the banner.

“I think it was something about an Oasis?” Sylus frowns and shakes his head. Elly wracks her brain. Her cheeks heat slightly. She remembers the Misty invasion trailer looked like the memories would be a little spicy and tries to recall any details not related to the infamous shower scene, but can’t.

“What about “shower scene?” she says hesitantly face heating. Sylus’s face goes completely blank and she can’t make out the expression in his eyes due to the dim lighting.

“Yes, sneaking into the bathroom while I was in the shower was quite a surprise, kitten. I’ll admit I had not thought Eliwyn would be willing to go that far to get the brooch.” He finally responds in his mocking and sarcastic tone. It is the first time she has heard it and finds that she doesn’t like it directed at her. Although she thought it was funny in the game, she now recognizes it for the defense mechanism it is and doesn’t like that he is distancing himself by using it. Then the meaning of his words finally hits her and she looks up at him in confusion. Was there a brooch in the Misty Invasion memory? The only memory she can recall from the game that has a brooch was the bond memory… Midnight Stealth. Then the implications hit her and a chill runs down her spine as the color drains from her face.

“The crow brooch?” She croaks. “When did this happen?”

“Yes, kitten. The crow brooch. Before the auction. It was a move I had not anticipated which is rare. I suppose she can take that as a compliment.” The mocking tone sounds off somehow. Elly shakes her head trying to wrap her mind around what he is saying.

“Sylus, that’s not possible. That’s not what happens in the game.” Sylus pauses a beat, looking at Elly intently.

“Explain.”

“In the game, MC can’t get the brooch and is running out of time so Luke and Kieran trick her into thinking they give her Evol stealing handcuffs and a tranquilizer gun and she gets the brooch while you are sleeping in bed but you turn the tables on her. Despite that, you still allow her to keep it and take her to the auction.” Elly looks at Sylus hoping to see recognition on his face at the description of the actual memory from the game but he shakes his head and she gets a sinking feeling in her stomach. She doesn’t want to ask her next question, but she has to know.

“Sylus, what were you doing in the shower while MC was stealing the crow brooch? Besides taking a shower.” He looks at her intensely.

“Clearly, you already know what I was doing in the shower while Eliwyn was stealing the brooch.” He raises an eyebrow at her. “What I want to know is if that isn’t what happens in the game, how do you know what I was doing?” Elly feels herself flush with shame. She tries to pull her hand from Sylus’s grasp but he refuses to release it. Unable to meet his piercing ruby eyes she covers her face with her left hand.

“Kitten,” his voice has dropped lower with a husky quality and a dangerous edge. “How do you know what I was doing in that shower?” Every time in the game when his voice drops like this, she finds it rather arousing but right now all she feels is a deep embarrassment and shame. Elly turns away as much as she can with her hand still tethered by Sylus.

“Because.” Her voice is breathy, barely audible and she wishes she could sink into the floor. Suddenly this strange dream feels like the nightmares her friends would tell her about in high school when they go to class and are suddenly completely naked. Only this is infinitely worse because it feels real. Covering her face as much as she can with only one hand, she swallows hard and tries again.

“Because I wrote it.” It comes out in a whisper but she knows Sylus hears by his sharp intake of breath. He is silent for a moment.

“Kitten, look at me.” Sylus tugs gently at her hand trying to get her to turn back toward him but she can’t. She is frozen in mortification. It was supposed to be short lighthearted smut inspired by a beautiful drawing done by someone in the community of Sylus’s head and upper torso while in the shower combined with her dissatisfaction with how the MC handled the whole brooch heist in the game narrative. Elly thought that MC should have been smarter and more strategic, especially since she completed training at the Hunter’s Association. The original drawing hadn’t even been explicit. Something happened while writing though. The scene had morphed into something else entirely and ended up being much more intense and angsty with no real smut. She had almost deleted it but couldn’t bring herself to.

“I never posted it. I couldn’t. I promise. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to write that. That wasn’t how it was supposed to go, but afterward, it didn’t feel right to change or delete it. It felt like if I did it would somehow invalidate and undermine what you were feeling or erase the terrible breach of trust by MC catching you in such a vulnerable moment.” Elly knows she’s rambling and manages to shut up. Tears are running down her face onto the bed and she hopes they are hidden behind her left hand so he doesn’t see.

“Please, can you leave? I’m so sorry. I think I need to be alone for a little while.” Her breath is coming in gasps and she feels like she is going to hyperventilate and her anxiety is a 10 out of 10. At that moment a phone buzzes and Sylus releases her right hand to check it. She quickly hides her face in both her hands.

“Alright kitten, I’ve got to check something. I promise I’ll be back in a little while. They have my number at the nurse’s station if you need anything and Zayne is here. I’ll have him check in on you in a little bit.” His voice is soft and soothing and somehow that only makes her feel worse. She manages to wait until the door closes behind him before breaking down into full-on sobbing.

She regrets writing that fan fic more than ever. She regrets telling Sylus about it. This is just a dream after all so it's not like it is important information. She should have kept it to herself. Now she has ruined what little time she has left with him. When she started it she hadn’t expected it to go like that or that she would be so overcome with secondhand embarrassment and shame that she couldn’t bring herself to post it anywhere. It is several minutes before she brings herself under control. She decides that if he returns, she will pretend to be asleep but he doesn’t return. Although her heart breaks a little at the rejection, she knows it is what she deserves. Thankfully the pain meds finally start to kick in and eventually drag her down into sleep where she can forget how badly she screwed up.

Chapter Text

Rafayel

The wind whips Rafayel’s hair as he smoothly maneuvers his sports car through the city streets. Most folks would have their windows up due to the chill early morning air. Thanks to his heritage the cold doesn’t bother Rafayel. He likes the feeling of the wind in his hair. Almost as much as the caress of the ocean tide against his skin. It calms and soothes him, helping him think more clearly. He needs that right now.

After holding Elly in the hospital tonight he is more certain than ever that she is his bride and however she came to be on that other earth, he isn’t going to let her go. Xavier’s warning doesn’t surprise him. Over his many lives, Rafayel has plenty of experience with her to know how strong her need to protect those she loves is and how far she is willing to go. Frequently to the detriment of her own life and well-being.

He will need all the tools in his arsenal to protect her. From the external forces that threaten her and possibly those within as well. Now, he will also need to find a way to convince her that staying in this world will be better for all of them. He won’t take away her decision. He doesn’t have that right. But that doesn’t mean he can’t stack the odds in his favor. Perhaps he will go with her if she still decides to return to her world. He refuses to live another lifetime without her.

First, however, he needs to make sure the portal has gone dormant again. Xavier is correct about how dangerous it could be if Elly tries to use it. It took a special set of circumstances to activate it to reach her. If she somehow manages to activate it again, he doesn’t know where, or even when it will lead her to. What if she ends up someplace even more dangerous and they can’t get her back? Rafayel shivers at the thought, his knuckles white where they clutch the steering wheel.

When looking for clues to her whereabouts Rafayel had been drawn back to the Destiny Cafe over and over but couldn’t figure out why. At first, he thought it was because he spent so much time with her there that it felt like he was near her. The afternoon before they rescued her, he was there nursing a coffee and planning his next steps when he glanced up. It was that odd twilit time of day when the sun had sunk behind the earth but it was still bright. There was a slight distortion in the air at the spot he would normally find Elly waiting for him.

 On land, Rafayel has to suppress certain instincts and awareness to function. His Lemurian senses are heightened compared to those of a human. He can differentiate between a vast variety of colors and see more of the light spectrum. His skin and scales are incredibly sensitive, allowing him to read the tides and currents of the seas. The slightest change in weather on the surface can be felt against his skin, no matter how deep he is.

As he drew nearer the portal it almost seemed to fade with the sunlight so he adjusted his eyes the way he does underwater which opens more of the light spectrum. Luckily it was growing dark enough that it didn’t blind him. That was when he saw the portal for the first time. It wasn’t his first interaction with one and although he tried to activate it but discovered it appeared to be inert. Since it was only visible under certain light, he figured that might be one key to activate it.

To get a better look he got closer still and noticed when a very familiar vibration pulsed against his sensitive skin. It felt like Elly. She has a particular energy that emanates from her and has in every life they have been through together. Completely blindfolded, even without the bond, he can pick her out of a crowd.

He immediately left and sought out Xavier, Elly’s partner at the Hunter’s Association, since he has a light Evol only to find the hunter’s apartment empty. Rather than head home he checked in on Zayne’s place as he does every few days to see if there had been any new developments. Granted, Zayne doesn’t know that he does this but Rafayel has found some interesting information about Elly this way. Zayne likes to bring his medical notes home to review. It’s a good thing he had or he wouldn’t have overheard Zayne & Sylus’s conversation and they would have lost Elinore for good.

Shaking away the negative thoughts, Rafayel pulls up in front of the Destiny Cafe and parks his car illegally right in front of the entrance. There is a new sign on the door saying they are closed for renovations and all the windows have been covered. That certainly makes his life a little easier and he mutters a thank you under his breath to Sylus for thinking of it. Unlocking the door with the key he got from Sylus he quickly enters and locks it behind him, then stows it in his pocket. Maybe he will make a copy before returning it. Chances are good he will need access to the building again. Not that he would need a key but it does make things easier.

As he steps deeper into the darkened Cafe Rafayel freezes. Something is wrong. That’s when he realizes the main seating area is pitch black and stops short. The glowing portal is gone. In case he is mistaken he circles the area carefully first in the darkness and then with the lights on. No matter how he alters his vision there is no mistaking it. Not only is the glowing portal gone, but there is no longer any refraction in the air at all.

Closing his eyes and concentrating on the brush of the air currents against his sensitive Lemurian skin he steps through the space that held the portal. There is no change to the feel of the area either. All lingering vibration has dissipated too. Dumbfounded, Rafayel stares at the spot for a few moments. When had this happened? Was it still here after he brought her back through? He tries to remember but he was so focused on getting her help that he doesn’t remember. Hopefully, someone else will. Looks like it’s a day for revelations. First, they discover Elinore isn’t Eliwyn, and now this. He pulls out his phone and sends a group message to the other men. He immediately gets two replies saying they are on their way.

Elly might be upset once she learns she didn’t arrive through a dream but a portal that has since disappeared but at least this way she can’t up and disappear on him. Guilt rises in him but he stubbornly pushes it down. He had no choice. If he hadn’t brought her through the portal she would have died. He has many regrets in his life but he refuses to let this be one of them. If she decides she still wants to go home, he will just have to help her find a way. A way that includes him. In the meantime, he might as well see if there is a kettle and some tea while he waits for the others to arrive.

He has barely had time to boil water when he hears Xavier call from the dining area. How was the sterling-haired man able to arrive so quickly and how did he get through the locked door? Apparently, Rafayel isn’t the only one with secrets. Rafayel has always felt that something lurks behind the seemingly harmless hunter’s sleepy demeanor. Maybe it’s time to do a little more digging into the other man.

“I tried to change the light spectrum like we did last time and there’s no difference,” Xavier says as he walks into the kitchen area.

“That was fast.” Rafayel is referencing more than the other man’s attempt at changing the light spectrum.

“It’s easier now that I know what I am doing,” is all Xavier says in response, ignoring the implications of Rafayel’s remark. Rafayel hands Xavier a mug and the tea caddy before pouring hot water into his mug.

“Do you recall if the portal was still there after we came back through it?” Rafayel asks.

Xavier shakes his head. “I was busy grabbing towels in case they were needed.” Which they had been. Rafayel quakes internally at the memory of all the blood and how close they had come to losing Elinore.

Sylus enters the room a quarter of an hour later. Luckily the hospital is relatively close or they would have lost her. Rafayel quickly fills him in and asks his question.

“I was already getting the car.” Sylus reminds them. “However, I made sure that no one else has entered or exited this building since that night so whatever happened likely happened immediately.”

“Where’s Zayne, he was here when I arrived.”

“I asked him to check in on Elly. He looked exhausted so I figured he probably shouldn’t be driving.” For once Sylus’s tone is serious as he sends a message on his phone and Rafayel can practically see the gears turning in the leader of Onychinus's head. The man is too sharp for his own good. At least he normally channels it where it doesn’t hurt normal citizens. Or his own people. From what Rafayel has seen the few times his path has crossed Onychinus, Sylus is as protective of his people as Rafayel is of his own. It is the one thing he respects about the crime lord. Luckily that protection extends to Elly. As much as he hates to admit it, Rafayel is well aware that if Sylus hadn’t begun his search for Elly when he did, Rafayel wouldn’t have been able to put the pieces he had together in time to find her. At least not alive. That thought stirs a question.

“What if it happened when Elly died?” he asks the other two men who stop quietly debating the scientific implications of the portal and its disappearance and turn to look at him.

“What do you mean?” Sylus’s eyes narrow in thought.

“Zayne told us that she died on the table, right? That he had to bring her back?” Rafayel’s heart stutters at the thought of that. How close had they come to losing her because she lost her memories again? Rafayel, unbeknownst to Elly, has read through all the documents her grandmother left her and is well aware of what would have happened if they hadn’t been able to bring her back normally and the aether core had activated.

“That’s a possibility,” Xavier admits, the crease in his forehead deepening. “Sylus, can you get me the exact time she disappeared based on your surveillance videos of the cafe? We can ask Zayne for the time she coded on the table.”

“Would having the dates she was missing according to the Hunter’s Association database be helpful in your research?” Sylus asks with a sly tone.

“How do you have access to that information?” The silver-haired man's accusation comes out almost as a growl, but Sylus just returns the angry look with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes.” Xavier finally admits through gritted teeth. Although wondering the same thing, Rafayel can’t help feeling a little smug at the other man’s discomfiture. Something about the hunter's demeanor just sets Rafayel’s teeth on edge. He tells himself it has nothing to do with how Elly’s face lit up earlier when she discovered Xavier was in the room with them.

“I don’t have access here. It’s at the base but I’ll have Luke and Kieran gather the information for you.” Sylus glances at his phone again and loses the slightly teasing lift to his mouth.

“Something wrong?” Rafayel asks, the sudden change setting off alarm bells.

“It’s probably nothing, I just expected a response from Zayne by now. I am going to head back to the hospital to finish my shift. I’ll see you in a little while.” Sylus nods at Rafayel before heading to the door. Although he appears to be unhurried there is something off about the other man’s behavior. Rafayel debates his plan to make a copy of the key versus heading back to the hospital and leaving the key with Xavier. As much as he would like a copy of the key, it’s not strictly necessary and there was an undercurrent of worry in the tall man’s posture when he left that decides Rafayel.

“I have a bad feeling; I am going to head back to the hospital. Here’s the key.” He goes to pull it out but the other man waves him off.

“I’ve checked everything here that I can for the moment. I think I will head back as well. Do you mind if I catch a ride with you?”

“How did you get here so quickly if you are on foot?” Rafayel frowns at the other man questioningly.

“Oh, um. I was in the area already.” Comes the vague reply. Rafayel narrows his eyes but the other man returns his look with a bland innocence that Rafayel doesn’t believe for a second. Finally giving in, Rafayel motions for Xavier to follow him, being careful to lock the door behind him. At least now he might have an opportunity to make a copy of the key before he returns it.

***

Elinor

Elly is pulled from a light sleep, not sure what has woken her up but she immediately starts trembling in the cold. Her eyes are gummy from crying and she lifts her hands to wipe away the crud. Across the room, she hears the scuff of a shoe on the linoleum and freezes a moment before realizing she isn’t back in her own bed. She’s still in the hospital in Linkon. She’s surprised at the relief she feels when she realizes she hasn’t woken up in her world.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize anyone was in here.” She grumbles trying to wake herself up properly. Finally, having cleared her eyes she looks around but the room is completely dark. The only lights are on the machines monitoring her stats and vitals. There is no answer or movement that she can see. The curtains appear closed. Judging by the pale glow that is starting to show around the curtains it is drawing towards dawn. Another tremor shakes her body and with it comes a flare of pain. Carefully she fumbles around the bed until she finds the call button.

“Hello, Elly.” Yvonne enters a few moments later. “Goodness, it is so cold in here! What happened to the lights?” Yvonne turns the lights on a low setting and checks the thermostat.

“I don’t know, it was like that when I woke up. Can I get another blanket?” As her body trembles with cold Elly grits her teeth to keep from crying out as Yvonne turns on the dim lighting again.

“Of course! I’ll also grab some pain medicine. I was going to come give it to you in a couple of minutes anyway.” Elly lies in a pile of cold misery until Yvonne returns and lays a thick, blessedly warm, woolen blanket in forest green over her. Her body immediately stops shaking.

“Oh wow, that feels great. Thank you for warming it.” Yvonne smiles at her fondly and Elly smiles back surprised she recognizes her. All she could see of her in the game was a two-dimensional picture. Yvonne hasn’t been given a 3-D model but it is unmistakably her. And, even though this is the first time meeting her in person, Elly feels a sense of déjà vu. Strangely it feels like Yvonne is one of her close friends, like her friends back home feel, rather than someone she only had a few minor interactions with in the game. Pulling the blanket a little higher she realizes it doesn’t match the beige of the blanket below and is much thicker.

“Where did you get this blanket? It doesn’t look like the hospital blanket.”

“No, all the hospital blankets are pretty thin. Since we allow patients to bring blankets from home if they are going to be here for a while I snagged it from Dr. Li’s office. I didn’t think he would mind.”

It’s Zayne’s blanket. Somehow that knowledge makes Elly warmer still. When Yvonne hands her a cup with several pills she pours them awkwardly into her mouth from her prone position and swallows them with the water from the cup Yvonne hands her next. Luckily the cup has a bendy straw so she manages not to spill anything. Yvonne walks over to the thermostat on the wall.

“It looks like it’s on. I will have maintenance come take a look. I’ll be back to check on you in a little while, but call me if you need anything.” Yvonne smiles as she leaves the room. As the door shuts Elly catches movement out of the corner of her eye and turns to find the curtains swaying slightly. There shouldn’t have been a big enough change in pressure from just shutting the door unless...

“Yvonne!” Elly calls and Yvonne returns immediately.

“Yes?”

“Can you check the window for me?” Yvonne walks to the window and draws back the curtain.

“How did this get open?” Yvonne closes it firmly and locks it before turning around. Remembering the scuff, she thought she heard as she woke up Elly wonders if it wasn’t the cold that pulled her from sleep. She begins to tremble again and knows it has nothing to do with the temperature.

“Is Zayne or one of the others around?”

“No, he’s in his office asleep right now. Didn’t even make it all the way onto the couch, poor man. He should be up in an hour or two. I haven’t seen any of the other men for a while now.” Maybe she should call Xavier or Sylus? They both said to call them if she needed anything. She flushes at the thought of Xavier’s kiss and how she left things with Sylus. Although she knows she will have trouble looking either of them in the eye, it will make her feel better to have someone here with her.

Yvonne leans closer to Elly and whispers conspiratorially, “He may not show it but Zayne’s been very worried about you. I’ve never seen him spend this much time at the hospital and you know how much he overworks.” Yvonne winks as she asks, “The others have been by your side day and night too. Is there something I can get you?” Elly smiles wanly, guilt curdling in her stomach. Best not to bother anyone. It’s probably nothing.

“No. Thanks. I’ll call if I need anything. Can you leave the curtain pulled back for now?” Just to be safe.

“Sure thing.” After Yvonne leaves it takes Elly a while to stop shaking. Surely, she is imagining things that aren’t there. Why would someone sneak into her hospital room? She was still half asleep. It was probably nothing. An orderly probably turned off the light so she could sleep. MC might have people after her but by this point in the story, none of them had done anything overt after the explosion in the Bloomshore district. Besides, Elly isn’t Eliwyn. She doesn’t have an Aethercore and she can’t resonate. Surely that makes her safe, right?

It’s not long before the pain meds kick in and she finds herself beginning to relax. Despite her intention to remain awake, she drifts in and out of a semi-wakeful but dreamlike state. As she floats along a nurse she doesn’t recognize enters the room. He doesn’t acknowledge Elly. Instead grabbing the holoscreen that must hold her medical information and reads over it with his back to her. Elly frowns, coming down to earth a little.

The nurse turns back toward the bed but keeps his body shifted oddly away from her and pulls out a syringe.

“What’s that?” Elly tries to focus on what he is doing, something about the situation feels off to her but she can’t pull her thoughts together.

“Pain meds.” He mumbles, again not looking at her, keeping his face angled away.

“Yvonne already gave me my pain meds.” She tells him.

“My mistake, these are for the anxiety.” With that, he plunges the syringe directly into the tubing instead of the injection port and depresses the plunger. Alarm bells and adrenaline break through the fog in her brain. Elly spent enough time in hospitals with her mom to know that trained medical professionals don’t forget what they are administering and they always use the injection port to administer medication. She cries out but the man's hand immediately covers her mouth. She flails around and manages to grab the tubing and rips the IV out of her arm.

“Bitch!” He releases her mouth and backhands her. Elly tries to flinch out of the way but her back seizes up from the sudden movement. Dazzling pain erupts from Elly’s jaw and cheek and her vision goes dim as she fights to stay conscious.

When she comes back to awareness, she realizes the bed is moving and someone is speaking but she can hardly hear past the ringing in her ears.

“Yes, I am taking her for more tests. Dr. Hadley’s order should be in the system.”

“Let me just check.” Yvonne’s voice sounds tinny and strange. The bed doesn’t stop moving.

“Can’t wait. The doctor says he wants them done stat. She’ll just be in radiology.”

Elly can hear the typing getting farther away and tries to call out but only a quiet groan escapes. She lifts her hand but he grabs it holding it painfully against the metal of the bed frame and continues pushing.

“Help! Stop!” This time Elly manages to say the words but her voice is thin and thready in her ears and she doesn’t know if anyone can hear her.

“Shut up or I will kill you.” His voice is gruff and has the ring of truth but Elly is sure that if he manages to take her wherever he is planning she is as good as dead anyway.

“Yvonne, help!” Elly thinks she is louder that time but still isn’t sure if it is loud enough. She can’t let him take her wherever he’s trying to. She has no illusions about her ability to escape, especially in her current condition, but if she can stall long enough someone will come right? Refusing to believe anything else she reaches up and digs her nails as deep as she can into the hand of her abductor until he curses and releases her other hand.

Their progress slows and she rolls over toward the nearest wall, ignoring the pain shooting up her back and the burning in her abdomen. Glancing around wildly she sees they are nearing an exit but there are no doors on the side she is on, just the rails that are always attached to hospital corridors. Without stopping to think she throws herself toward the handrail.

Luckily her abductor hasn’t thought to put the sides up on the bed and she manages to grab it. He jerks the bed away from the wall so she uses its momentum to pull herself off the bed completely. Her scream of pain echoes down the corridor. She prays he will leave her there but he grabs her up by her hair, trying to get her into the exit. Far away she can hear footsteps running but she can’t tell if they are getting any closer.

Despite the searing pain she kicks and bites and tries to grab hold of something, but the handrails are too high now that she is on the floor and the walls are bare. Her attacker manages to get the exit open and calls to someone outside. In desperation, Elly wedges her body into the door frame. Four hands try to tug at her. The pain is a living blinding thing and she almost wishes for death but knows she can’t give up.

The hands tugging at her become more insistent and seem less concerned with getting her out in one piece. New pains from their blows blend into the agony of her stomach and back as they try harder to get her through the door. Her grip begins to loosen and she can feel the door frame slipping from her grasp.

Reaching deep inside for the last of her strength, she finds something steady and sure and pulls on it with all her might. She manages to hold on for another couple of seconds before a particularly vicious blow to her back breaks her concentration and makes her body spasm and go limp. As darkness creeps across her vision Elly can feel herself being pulled through the door into the parking area and can’t do anything to stop it.

Chapter Text

Sylus

Deciding to leave the artist and the hunter at the Cafe to work on the puzzle of the disappearing portal, Sylus heads back to the hospital. Zayne hasn’t responded to his messages so he wants to check in on Elly himself. Even if she isn’t willing to see him. Hopefully, she will, and he can tell her it doesn’t matter to him. In reality, he moved passed the incident months ago. The look in her eyes before she hid them behind her hand, however, would haunt his nightmares. For a moment he thought the disgust and shame was directed at him and the pain of that still lingers.

However, the knowledge that something she wrote in her world somehow affected this world is surprising. Something he will need to consider carefully before sharing it with the others. Once he figures out the implications. 

A car unexpectedly pulls out before him, and Sylus has to change lanes quickly. He tells himself to pay attention to the road. Since he has to go the Linkon speed limit, it will take him longer to get to the hospital than he had hoped. Luckily, Fishboy is still at the cafe, so Sylus will beat him there. Mephisto is also on his way and will be at the hospital shortly.

When he isn’t on shift, Sylus has Mephisto watch over Elly clandestinely. Although no action has been taken against her, Eliwyn is too valuable to certain groups, and that makes Elly a target. Her current vulnerability makes Sylus uncomfortable. There are too many people watching this kitten for his comfort.

When he is only five minutes away from the hospital, he receives an image on the holo display of his helmet from Mephisto. The curtain in Elly’s window is open and he has a great view of her room. Sylus frowns when he realizes an unknown nurse, one Sylus hasn’t yet vetted, is in the room with her. Zayne was supposed to have given him the name of everyone assigned to Elly.

Mephisto must have only just arrived. Surely that isn’t why Mephisto is sending him the feed. That’s when Sylus looks away from the nurse to Elly and sees the strange look Elly is giving the nurse. The frown on her face sets off Sylus’s instincts. Eliwyn was always overly pleasant to anyone in a service job, regardless of her pain or problems and Sylus has a feeling Elly shares that consideration as well. They share so many other traits and mannerisms.

Elly says something that Mephisto can’t hear, and the nurse responds. Elly looks horrified, but the nurse moves and blocks Mephisto’s view of her. He can’t block everything, however, and Sylus sees Elly fumble for the IV, ripping it out of her arm. That is when Sylus sees a syringe stuck in the tubing that had been blocked by the way the nurse was standing.

“Don’t lose her,” he tells Mephisto. 

Automatically Sylus opens the throttle, completely disregarding the speed limit. He focuses on the road, weaving the bike in and out of traffic, between vehicles, and down alleys—anything he can do to arrive as fast as possible. Red and blue lights begin flashing behind him, but he ignores them. Whether they catch up or not is of no importance.

Scenarios start running through his head while a part of him continues to focus on the road and a third keeps an eye on the holoscreen still displaying in his helmet. When he sees Elly get hit and slump back apparently unconscious, he sees red and vows that whoever it is a dead man walking. Using his hands-free unit, he sends an emergency message to the group chat and then calls the twins.

“Where are you at?” He asks without greeting.

“Just finished picking up those vehicles you asked for,” Luke responds immediately.

“Good. Did you complete that other project for me?”

“Yes, everything is set up exactly as you requested.” This was Kieran.

“Head to the hospital and await further instructions.”

“Yes Boss.”

Sylus disconnects the call. He is almost there. The feed shows the room is empty and the view becomes erratic as Mephisto frantically searches for a way inside.

Skidding straight up to the closest entrance to Elly’s room Sylus abandons the bike and helmet running toward the nurse's station where Elly’s friend is frantically yelling into a phone for security.

“Which way?” He asks running passed her. She points down a corridor.

“Down there, they turned right.” He follows the instructions turning right towards radiology but the corridors begin splitting off almost immediately and he can’t tell if they turned after that or kept going.

A scream of pain freezes his blood and he runs toward it managing to get closer but stops at another intersection. Sylus growls at the maze-like corridors. He can feel time trickling away and is terrified he won’t arrive in time.

Deciding it is better to choose than stand undecided he turns in a direction but freezes as a strange sensation washes through his very essence. It burns and tingles and is both comforting and somehow heartbreaking at the same time. Although it happens instantaneously, it feels like an eternity as it moves through him then settles into the middle of his chest, wraps around his heart, and squeezes. He almost unconsciously lashes out at whatever is causing it but stops abruptly when he sees a thread of his black and red Evol unfurl down a corridor.

Wonder fills him with the realization of what is happening which pushes back the terror that has been eating at him since he received the holo feed from Mephisto. Sylus sprints down the corridor following his Evol. His focus narrows as he turns the final corner just as his Evol snaps back at him and he sees Elly’s limp form being dragged through an exit door. His heart pounds in his ears and his eyes narrow.

Without conscious thought his Evol explodes out of him, holding the door open and cushioning Elly’s body while dissolving the hands that dared to hurt her. The two culprits open their mouths in silent screams but are unable to make noise as their throats are clogged with his Evol. Sylus wants nothing more than to obliterate them completely and barely restrains himself, instead forcibly binding and gagging the men.

“Sylus…” Elly’s voice is barely a whisper. Tears prick her eyes and she begins shaking. Sylus has seen trauma response before and recognizes the signs.

“Yes, kitten?” He swallows around a lump in his throat, taking in her broken form and cataloging every bump and bruise so he can inflict it tenfold on her attackers. He removes his jacket and lays it carefully over her. She looks even worse than the night they rescued her. He floats her close to him and reaches for her hand.

“Thank you for saving me.” The look she gives him is so filled with trust that for a moment he can’t breathe. It is everything he has been wanting and he would give it up in an instant if it meant she were safe and whole again. Not for the first time he wonders if he has ruined her life by bringing her into his.

“If you hadn’t kept your promise and fought, I might not have made it in time. We make a good team.” He is rewarded by a wan smile. It disappears quickly but the fact that it was there tells him his kitten will be okay. Eventually.

As much as Sylus wants to whisk her away, the pain shimmering in her eyes convinces him to make sure he won’t cause worse damage first. He ignores the abandoned bed in the hallway, instead using his Evol to hold her in the exact position she was in when he found her. This is safer with possible back injuries he knows. He can also see blood soaking into her hospital gown from her abdomen. He isn’t sure how she is still conscious.

An agonized groan leaves Elly’s throat.

“Don’t move kitten. I’ve got you.” He squeezes the hand he’s holding so she can feel him.

He can hear hospital personnel heading in his direction and sees the empty getaway van with an open sliding door parked next to the exit. The back is filled with detritus and covered in stains and dirt and Sylus curls his lip. Making a split-second decision he picks up the men using his Evol and shoves them unceremoniously into the van, keeping them restrained and gagged with his Evol, then closes the van doors. Another flick of his Evol engages the locks just in time.

Yvonne arrives with Dr. Hadley and two security guards in tow. Time seems to have stretched and although it feels like five to ten minutes have passed in reality it can’t be more than a minute or so since Sylus entered the hospital.

“Careful,” Yvonne says to Sylus.

“I have held her in the exact position she was in when I arrived. I think she is going into shock.” Sylus says tightly. With a nod, Yvonne holds Elly’s head in the proper position as Sylus carefully moves her to the bed and lays her gently on it. One of the security guards rolls the bed back toward the way they had come. Sylus stays next to Elly as Yvonne checks the wound. Luckily Elly only popped a couple of stitches which Sylus figures is a miracle in and of itself. It has already stopped bleeding. When they turn into the Radiology department doors Dr. Hadley bars Sylus’s way. Elly makes a pained noise and her fingers stretch toward him.

“Only medical personnel beyond this point.” Sylus ignores the smug pompous tone and looks coldly at the doctor.

“After what just occurred, she will not be without someone chosen by myself to guard her, or I will remove her from this hospital immediately.”

“It’s not safe to move her.” The portly doctor blusters. His face flushes red.

“It’s not safe to leave her here either. If you wish to push the issue, I am sure my lawyers will be thrilled to file suit against the hospital for negligence and aiding and abetting a kidnapping.” The doctor pales, his eyes shifting from Sylus to the bed and back again before nodding curtly and continuing into the Radiology department.

Keeping one eye on Elly and the other on which tests are being run, Sylus sends orders to the twins. They make sure the van is picked up by their team along with the occupants after manually restraining them. This finally allows Sylus to release the Evol bonds he has on them. The sun has barely risen and it will become increasingly draining to continue holding them with it.

A new message vibrates his phone from the group chat and Sylus is unsurprised to discover that he has missed multiple messages and even several calls. He sends a response to advise the emergency has been dealt with for now and once Elly is back in her room, he will fill them in. He asks after Zayne’s whereabouts but no one knows.

While they work Sylus scrutinizes the medical staff. Most of them appear nervous but nothing beyond what could be explained by his presence. No outward signs of guilt. Yvonne cleaned up Elly’s wound between tests and went back to her station. She is perhaps the only person on staff that Sylus trusts right now. She was distressed at the kidnapping and relieved when she discovered Elly was safe. He would have included Dr. Li on that list but with the doctor missing he is beginning to worry. He dials the nurse's station.

“Yes?”

“Yvonne, have you seen Dr. Li?”

“Yes, he is in his office currently. I believe he is resting.”

“Can you rouse him, please? I believe he will want to be apprised of the situation with Miss Read.”

“I should have thought of that. I will go do it now.” Sylus waits impatiently while continuing to split his attention between the radiology department staff and making sure Elly remains safe. Does anyone look his way a little too frequently? Everyone who does he sends to the twins to dig deeper into their background. His phone vibrates with an incoming call.

“Yes?”

“Mr. Skye?” Sylus recognizes Yvonne’s voice and her anxious tone immediately puts him on guard.

“Yes.”

“I can’t rouse Dr. Li. I am trying but he isn’t responsive. I’m calling from his office so I am not overheard. Given everything that is happening, I figure this was safer.” It is easy for Sylus to keep his face a blank mask. Stepping a little further away from the other staff he lowers his voice.

“Good thinking. Is there anyone on staff you and Dr. Li trust implicitly?”

“Dr. Greyson.” She responds without hesitation.

“Call him in, but don’t let anyone else know what is going on.” She agrees and the line disconnects. The MRI is complete so they are moving Elly for additional testing. Sylus follows closely ensuring she is never more than a few steps away. This continues for some time as they put her through a CT and multiple heart and Evol scans.

“Is it safe to move her?” Sylus asks the radiologist who is reading over her results, once the final test has been run.

“I need to do a thorough review of the results before I can make proper a determination.”

“For safety reasons, there may be no other recourse. I need an answer now.” Sylus insists, giving the man a look that has been known to quell even his most staunch opposition.

“Although I recommend against moving her at this time, as long as proper precautions are taken and she isn’t jostled I don’t think it will cause any negative impact on the patient.” Sylus nods and turns to escort Elly back to her room. He sends a message to the twins. It’s time to put his plan into effect a little earlier than anticipated.

***

Elinor

Agony has become Elly’s closest companion over the last hour as they run test after test. Only the knowledge that Sylus is nearby has kept her from freaking out about the attack or screaming every time they adjusted her body for testing with seemingly no regard to the pain she is in.

Finally, they advise the testing is complete and once the doctor has reviewed the results, they can give her something for the pain. She makes an affirmative noise, teeth clenched so hard she is unable to do more. As they wheel her out she tries to look around for Sylus but doesn’t see him for a moment.

Needing something to ground her she twitches her fingers and is rewarded with the feeling of a large rough hand as it envelops hers.

“I’m right here kitten.”

His warmth is a balm that spreads slowly out from where their hands touch to the rest of her abused body. Her muscles unclench for the first time since the testing began.

With the relaxation comes a slight lessening of the pain and Elly finally feels like she can take a full breath. As the pain decreases however her anxiety begins to increase. It was almost better when she was in too much pain to be able to think about what happened. Her heart rate begins to speed up as all the what-if scenarios begin to run through her head. What if she hadn’t been able to signal Yvonne? What if she hadn’t found that final handhold? What if Sylus hadn’t arrived in time?

“Breathe kitten. You’re safe now. I won’t let anything happen to you.” Elly realizes she is starting to hyperventilate and tries to slow her breathing. It takes a second but counting her breaths helps. She breathes in for four counts, holds for four counts, and releases it for six counts. This continues the entire way back to her room but it has the desired effect and she manages to get her breath and heart rate under a little more control. There is still an underlying thread of terror but Sylus’s hand in hers is helping keep it mostly at bay.

“What the hell happened?” Rafayel demands as he and Xavier jump to their feet when the bed is wheeled into the room.

“We’ll discuss that momentarily. Neither of you leave her side until I return.” Elly notices the other men bristle at the command but they don’t argue as Sylus begins to pull his hand away but Elly doesn’t want to let go.

“I’ll be right back. I promise.” His voice is soft as he leans close and Elly is momentarily overwhelmed by the sheer size of him. The scent of smoke and whiskey mixed with some foreign spice envelops her. Sylus’s expression is his typical sardonic mask, but Elly can see the underlying concern swimming in his eyes and realizes this is the first time it’s been bright enough to see him clearly since she awoke in this world.

Despite his disheveled hair, he is even more handsome in person than she expected. His chiseled features, strong nose, and lush lips make her heart skip a beat. His eyes soften as he looks at her and she finds herself completely captivated by them. A vibrant ruby circles his pupil and ruby striations radiate into a darker garnet that becomes almost black around the outer circumference. They are stunning. Sylus frowns and leans closer.

“What is it? Is everything okay?” Concern adds a breathy huskiness to his voice.

“Your eyes are beautiful.” She whispers. Then she realizes she is staring and glances away. Heat creeps up her neck and into her cheeks. A chuckle rumbles through Sylus and he kisses her forehead quickly before ducking out of the room. The pain ratchets up a few notches and Elly closes her eyes, drawing a shaky breath hoping it will go back down, but it doesn’t.

A soft featherlight touch along her jaw draws her attention to the other side of the bed and Elly turns, opening her eyes to see Xavier, face suffused with a dark emotion, hands shaking slightly as he traces the area where she was struck. She flinches at the memory.

“What happened?” Although quiet, his normally soft voice has gone hard with a core of ice that sends a shiver down Elly’s back even though she knows she is not the focus of his anger.

“Let’s wait for Zayne. I…” she swallows, closes her eyes, then takes a deep breath. “I don’t want to relive it more than once.” Xavier makes an affirmative noise. She can practically feel his tension vibrating the air but his touch remains light as he slides his hand along the side of her face, thumb brushing across her cheek soothingly. With his other hand, he reaches for hers, lacing their fingers together, and places a kiss on their linked fingers.

At the sound of the door opening Rafayel steps between the bed and the door and with a flash of fire, a wicked-looking knife appears in each hand. Sylus enters and completely disregards Rafayel as he closes the door and heads to Elly, reaching for her empty hand. His touch is like a balm and she breathes more easily.

“We have another problem that needs to be dealt with. Did you tell them what happened?” Sylus meets Elly’s gaze but she shakes her head.

“I didn’t want to go through it again when you returned with Zayne.” She explains, feeling like a wimp but the look he gives her is full of understanding. Sylus quickly outlines what he knows about the abduction attempt and his suspicions when he continued to receive no response from Zayne. The expected looks of surprise and shock from Xavier and Rafayel never materialize. Instead, they both became grim and focused, the masks they typically wear fall away until only the predator remains. It is chilling, yet strangely makes Elly feel safer.

“Now we come to the new problem,” Sylus continues. “Dr. Li is unconscious in his office. From what Dr. Greyson and I have been able to determine it looks like his coffee was dosed with a specific neurotoxin that is both long-lasting and paralytic.” Elly gasps at this news. Was he dosed because of her?

“That doesn’t make any sense,” she says, thinking out loud. “Why paralyze him and use a long-lasting neurotoxin if they only need to keep him out of the way while they kidnap me?” Sylus shrugs.

“Dr. Greyson is currently trying to counteract the effects but it is going to take a while to get out of Zayne’s system. Given everything that has happened I think Elly should be moved immediately to a safer location.”

“What, no! Elly needs medical attention.” Rafayel argues taking a step closer to Sylus, appearing to forget his knives are still in his hands.

“And she will receive it, but not here. It’s no longer safe. I have secured a location and procured all the necessary equipment. We should move her immediately.”

“Zayne too.” Elly interrupts, looking up at Sylus.

“We will worry about Dr. Li once you are safe.”

“Sylus,” Elly sets her jaw and stares at Sylus. “There is more going on than just my kidnapping. I know it. I won’t budge unless we all go together. That includes all four of you.”

“Kitten, I...”

“No! You don’t get to make this decision for me, Sylus. We make it together. I agree we need to move to a safer location and this is my requirement.” Elly tries to sit up and gasps in pain. She lays back but her voice remains firm. “You have all sacrificed so much for MC. I will not allow you to do so now. Especially since I am not her.” I am not worth it , she continues silently to herself. The three men share a look but Sylus finally relents.

“That leaves the problem of how to get Dr. Li out of the building while unconscious.” There is a brief pause, and then Elly looks at Xavier.

“Can you get him to the parking garage using your Evol?” Elly can see the conflicting emotions in Xavier’s eyes and she pleads with hers.

“Yes. I will meet you in the parking garage with the doctor.” That decided it takes surprisingly little time to make a plan and set it in motion.

While Rafayel acts as a distraction and storms out of the room further into the hospital while making a big fuss about taking Elly to a better hospital where she will receive the best treatment money can buy, Sylus pushes her bed out to a waiting ambulance at the nearest entrance. Using his Evol he carefully moves Elly onto the gurney in the back and climbs in beside her.

While that is happening Xavier will use the distraction to slip into Zayne’s office and explain the situation to Dr. Greyson and Yvonne before locking the office door behind them as they leave. Once Sylus calls him from the parking garage, he will use his Evol to meet them there.

For once everything goes off without a hitch. The ambulance pulls up to the garage exit and Sylus opens the back door just as Rafayel exits the hospital. Xavier appears out of a burst of light moments later with Zayne in a fireman’s carry.

“Sylus help them, please.” Elly looks pleadingly at Sylus who shakes his head but with a smirk lifts Zayne onto the bench seat, moving to the bucket seat at the head of the gurney. Xavier clambers up into the back while Rafayel runs to the front passenger seat. As Xavier turns to close the doors Yvonne and Dr. Greyson come running out the exit like hell is behind them, looks of horror on their faces.

“There are more coming!” Dr. Greyson yells as they clamber into the ambulance and quickly close the door. There is a loud bang as the exit door is slammed open and their tires screech as whoever is driving the ambulance peals away. The reports of a gun and corresponding clangs as bullets ricochet off the ambulance make Elly jump and then wince at the pain caused by the sudden movement. There isn’t enough room in the back for everyone they have crammed in but there is no going back now. They do their best not to jostle Elly as they try to find seats. Sylus turns around and opens the partition to the front.

“Shell game,” he says.

“You got it, boss. You hear that Kieran?”

“Ten-four.” Kieran’s voice comes through a speaker. The undisguised glee in the twin's voices sends a shiver through Elly. They are thrown around as Luke makes several fast turns and the sounds of tires screeching behind them tell Elly someone is in pursuit of them. The pain is ratcheting up at the jostling but she clenches her teeth and squeezes her eyes shut, trying not to move or distract anyone. Warmth spreads out from her temples as someone begins to massage them and she looks up and back. Although Sylus is keeping his eyes on the windows at the back, he is massaging her temples and has wrapped her in his Evol, somehow buffering her from the worst of the jostling allowing her to relax as some of the pain abates.

The sounds of pursuit get farther away as they pull onto a highway for several minutes before Luke suddenly crosses three lanes of traffic to make a last-minute exit and then makes several turns in quick succession. A final turn brings them into complete darkness. A gate or door clangs shut behind them and the ambulance doors are opened by two men.

“The SUVs are ready, boss,” one says to Sylus, indicating that they should follow them. “Hurry, we need to send this back out so they don’t know we have switched vehicles.”

Everyone follows and Sylus lifts Elly off the gurney using his Evol so he doesn’t hurt her, but Xavier and Rafayel hang back exchanging nods.

“If we want them to buy it, we should go with the ambulances.” Rafayel nods to another ambulance parked next to theirs and Elly understands the shell game reference.

“That wasn’t the deal.” She tries to dissuade them.

“We’ll be okay, cutie. We promise.” Rafayel gives her a roguish wink and a finger wave.

“We have to do this, Starlight.” Xavier looks apologetic but determined.

“Stay with the twins they know where we are going.” Sylus nods to them.

“You can’t, I’m not…” your starlight. But they are already gone and Sylus is taking her farther away toward a waiting SUV. The back seats have been removed and replaced with a mat of some kind. Not quite a gurney but better than trying to sit upright in her current condition although cradled in Sylus’s Evol she doesn’t feel any pain for the first time since the attack.

Dr. Greyson and Yvonne are climbing into a second SUV where Zayne has already been strapped in. They wait for the ambulances to draw off any remaining pursuit then take a different exit that includes heading into the sewers for a short time before emerging onto the city streets. They are soon on a highway heading out of Linkon.

Chapter Text

Zayne

“I’m fine.” Zayne tries to sit up, pushing Dr. Greyson’s hand away as his friend shines a pen light in his eyes to check the reaction of his pupils but Greyson easily evades him and pushes him back down with one hand while completing his check.

“We both know that’s not true but at least your pupillary light reflex is normal.” Greyson looks relieved and assists Zayne in sitting up. Looking around, Zayne finds himself in a well-appointed room, obviously used for medical treatment based on the equipment but more luxurious than any hospital in Linkon. It isn’t Akso Hospital.

“Where are we? What happened?”

“What do you remember?” Greyson asks. Zayne frowns. His thoughts are muddled, and it takes him a few moments to pull them together.

“I received a text message from Xavier and after speaking with him I lay down to rest.”

“That’s good. There doesn’t appear to be any memory impairment.” Greyson’s detached doctor's voice makes Zayne’s pulse speed up. 

“What is going on, Greyson.” Zayne’s voice sounds gruffer than usual and he tries to recall anything that would explain why he needs to be examined. Why he is no longer in his office? 

“You were dosed with a paralytic neurotoxin.” Greyson sighs, not meeting Zayne’s eyes. An alarm pulses through Zayne.

“How?”

"We believe it was in your coffee.” Greyson's gaze shifts erratically, looking anywhere but directly at Zayne, who has a feeling he won’t like what Greyson has to say.

“There is more isn’t there? What is it?” 

“While you were incapacitated someone attempted to abduct Ms. Read.” A frisson of fear rushes through Zayne and he stands abruptly but becomes dizzy and disoriented and has to sit back down.

“Don’t worry, it failed. She’s here as well.” Dr. Greyson lays a reassuring hand on Zayne’s shoulder. “Mr. Skye assures me that she is safe and secure, whatever that means.”

“I need to see her.” A restraining hand stops him before he can attempt to stand once more.

“Give it a few minutes. I have counteracted the drug as best I can, but it will take a little while to fully exit your system.” Zayne pushes past the fear and guilt of almost losing Elly and not being there when she needed him. Making the most of his time is best right now. The more information he can get the better he can help her.

“Is she alright?” Zayne feels a deep ache at the thought of losing Elinor.

“Mr. Skye made sure she was stable before removing her from the hospital. He is reaching out to get a copy of her most recent test results since we were unable to grab them in our haste to leave.” Zayne begins to feel a little less lightheaded and decides to try standing again. This time he can get to his feet without dizziness.

“Where are we?” 

“On an estate outside Linkon. That belongs to a friend of Mr. Skye’s who has some pretty extensive health concerns.”

“I need to see her.” When Dr. Greyson looks like he is going to protest again Zayne cuts him off. “The sooner I can see her and confirm her condition the faster I will be able to recover.” His voice is short, almost cold but he doesn’t apologize. It is everything he can do to remain calm. Dr. Greyson nods and turns to lead him from the room. This time Zayne remains standing without the dizziness. They head down an opulent corridor and Greyson knocks on the door at the end.

“Come.” Sylus’s deep voice easily penetrates the solid wood of the door. Dr. Greyson Opens the door. Zayne stops in the doorway, momentarily shocked at what he finds inside. It is a full medical suite including a surgical facility. Through a glass wall, he can even see a full radiology department including X-ray, MRI, and CT. 

“Interesting setup you have, Mr. Skye,” Zayne emphasizes Sylus’s fake name.

“Yes, isn’t it.” Sylus smirks, not providing any additional details. 

Zayne enters as Sylus retreats to a sitting area splitting his focus between his phone and the Radiology room. Zayne realizes the MRI is currently occupied by Elly. A technician stands at a holoscreen on this side of the glass partition monitoring the AI running the test. Zayne is unable to hear the MRI machine at all, which surprises him. The soundproofing must be better than Akso’s.

“How is she?” Although he tries to maintain a professional demeanor, Zayne is unable to suppress the urgency in his voice.

“Alive and here, which is the important thing. Everything else we can fix.” Sylus responds almost absentmindedly, watching Elly with an intensity that makes Zayne clench his teeth. “This is the last test. The courier will arrive in a few minutes with her most recent medical records from Akso.” Sylus indicates a holopad on the desk in front of Zayne.

Zayne nods, picking it up and reviewing the list of tests that have already been performed along with the results while also keeping an eye on the MRI in progress. A clawing feeling in his gut wars with irritation at Sylus for presuming to request her medical records, but he can’t help but feel relieved that he will have access to her previous results. This will allow him to better determine any additional or exacerbated injuries she has suffered as a result of the abduction attempt.

“Has she been given any gabapentin and tramadol?” He looks at Dr. Greyson who shakes his head.

“She was given her gabapentin earlier this morning before the abduction attempt. I felt it best to wait on any additional medication until we complete these tests.” Sylus snorts from where he is sitting but doesn’t comment. Hands clenched, Zayne attempts to ignore him. 

The technician makes a couple of notations on his holoscreen and then opens the door to the Radiology area. Sylus and Zayne waste no time joining him as the table Elly is on slides out. There is a slightly wider than standard hospital bed waiting and Zayne heads to Elly but before he can reach her red and black tendrils wrap around her and lift her from the MRI table and set her down on the bed. Zayne notices the mattress and linens are a much higher quality than a hospital's and he is glad to see Elly is being taken care of despite Sylus’s presumption. Zayne steps up to one side of the bed.

Elly looks frail and small and her eyes are wet but when she turns to look at him her smile gives a lightness to his chest that Zayne didn’t know he was missing. Without a thought, he reaches out and caresses her cheek.

“How are you feeling?” Though quiet, his voice is rough with emotion and he has to swallow around a lump in his throat.

“It comes and goes. Are you okay?” The concern in her eyes is enough to break his composure.

“I am fine. I’m just glad you are safe.” Zayne struggles to keep his voice even. He reaches for Elly’s hand but she is reaching out to Sylus.

“Sylus?” Pain is evident in her voice as Sylus steps forward, taking her hand. The lines on her face smooth slightly and she relaxes back into the bed with a sigh. Zayne frowns and the clawing feeling in his stomach worsens but he remains composed. The red and black tendrils wrap around the bed and push it from the room with Sylus at Elly’s side. Zayne's lips compress into a line but he follows as they head out of the medical suite and back into the corridor.

One of the doors opens at a touch from Sylus’s Evol and they parade inside. Zayne quickly and efficiently sets up the monitoring equipment in the room making sure to record her heart rate and vitals. As he is finishing a knock sounds at the door. A man enters without waiting for a response. He wears a hood and crow mask despite being indoors. This must be one of the twins Elly has told him about.

“Boss, the records have arrived.”

“Luke! Are Xavier, Rafayel, and Kieran here?” Elly sounds relieved and Luke pauses before responding.

“Xavier will be in momentarily. The others have some errands to run. They will be back a little later.” Elly frowns but nods her head. Zayne notices Luke’s eyes behind the mask shift slightly as though holding something back but doesn’t comment. He holds out his hand for the records and Sylus passes them over without thought.

Opening the envelope Zayne presses a button on the memory cube and a holo screen pops up with Elly’s complete medical history. Luckily he has an excellent poker face and his shock realizing it includes a complete medical file and not just her most recent results doesn’t show on his face. He selects the option and pulls up her results from that morning.

He tells himself it could be worse as he takes in the information. She has multiple large hematomas on her back that weren’t there previously. Several vertebrae have developed hairline fractures which is worrying. Her head trauma doesn’t appear to have worsened thankfully and looking up Zayne realizes the room hasn’t been dimmed and she shows no more signs of photophobia so the light sensitivity has abated. That is also good news. 

An alert pops up on the holoscreen advising the new radiology results are available. He opens the test and is so surprised he frowns unconsciously and brings up the prior test results to compare them side by side. He looks up and discovers Dr. Greyson is not in the room.

“Give me a moment. I need to consult with Dr. Greyson.” Without another word, he leaves the room.

“That doesn’t sound good.” He hears Elly say as the door closes. Zayne pauses, realizing he doesn’t know where Dr. Greyson is. He heads to the medical suite and luckily finds him hovering over a portable holo screen of his own.

“Have you gotten the new test results?”

“Yes, I was just pulling them up.” Dr. Greyson minimizes a window but not before Zayne sees someone he recognizes.

“What’s wrong with Yvonne?” He asks, maintaining a calm facade despite the alarm that races through him at his friend potentially being unwell.

“Wrong? Oh, uh nothing. Just checking in on her. I had to give her a sedative after all the excitement. Just making sure she is resting quietly.” Zayne nods, ignoring the blush across the top of Greyson’s cheeks.

“What am I looking at?” Greyson asks. 

“Compare her most recent results to the tests run by Akso this morning at 04:55.” Zayne inserts the data cube into the medical holoprojector and pulls up the three-dimensional MRI & CT scans from earlier in the day along with her most recent scans, manipulating them to show the area in question.

“This can’t be right.” Greyson looks at Zayne in disbelief. “Can it be a machine malfunction?”

“I don’t think so,” Zayne says, “but I need to re-run the test results to rule it out.” Greyson nods as Zayne turns on his heel and leaves the room.

***

Elinor

Gritting her teeth, Elly tries to move a little to ease the pain in her back without letting go of Sylus’s hand that she is still holding like a lifeline. At least the pain has lessened somewhat since she finished the testing. The hard plastic of the MRI table and x-ray machine was agony. There was a pad but it didn’t feel like it.

“What’s that you were humming?” Sylus asks. 

“Sorry, I didn’t realize I was humming.” Elly smiles a little sadly. “It’s just a song my mom used to sing to me when I was little. Grandma used to sing it to her.”

“It’s nice.” His voice subdued, almost a whisper.

“Thanks. After mom got sick I started singing it to her.” Elly’s breath hitches but she pushes past it. “Sorry, I probably shouldn’t have brought that up. It’s just weird. Thanks to the game I feel like I know you, even though we only met this morning.” Was it only that morning? Elly feels like too much has happened for it to have been so recent.

“It’s alright. I’m interested. If you want to talk about it, that is.” Sylus squeezes her hand slightly and lays his other hand on top of hers, essentially sandwiching her hand in his enveloping warmth. She gives him an unsure smile but decides to continue.

“I don’t know where to start. Other than her doctors I haven’t really spoken with anyone about her condition. Not even my friends back home.” Sylus chuckles but it is a warm sound that draws her in, not a laugh at her expense.

“Let’s start simple. Where is “back home?” His smile as he looks at her is gentle and she tries not to let it affect her. This isn’t her world. She knows she will wake up eventually and what then?

“A little town called Blooming. Most of my friends still live there.”

“Why did you leave?”

“My mom was sick. She needed a transplant and there aren’t a lot of hospitals that can do the one she needed so we moved to Ohio. Zero out of ten, do not recommend it.” Elly stops and thinks for a second. “I don’t even know if Ohio exists in the game. As far as I could find there is no Linkon in my world. I checked to see if it’s based on a real city but couldn’t find it.” With a self-deprecating laugh, Elly meets Sylus’s eyes and finds herself captivated by their vibrant red hue once more. They are too beautiful to be real.

Of course that makes sense. They aren’t real. This is all a fever dream brought on by the trauma of the attack. Still, in the game, all four love interests have beautiful eyes. She fervently hopes she gets a chance to see Xavier and Rafayel again before she wakes up or comes too, or whatever.

Zayne enters followed by Dr. Greyson disrupting her train of thought. Although Zayne looks stoic like normal Elly somehow feels he should be frowning.

“I have reviewed your results and have come across an anomaly. Before I make any determinations I will need to re-run the most recent set of tests.” The thought of going through all the tests again is almost too much. She closes her eyes for a moment while mentally preparing herself to undergo the ordeal again then turns to Sylus.

“You don’t have to stay. You should have gone to sleep hours ago.” Sylus just shakes his head.

“I will, kitten, as soon as we make sure everything is okay with you.” As they wheel her back into the medical area Elly tries to convince Sylus but he is adamant. She supposes she should release his hand. That might help her argument but she can’t bring herself to do it until the last moment. She only lets the matter drop after he transfers her back onto the MRI table and leaves the room. The pad is as thin as she remembers. She tries to lose herself in fantasy but since this whole experience is one big fantasy she has trouble immersing herself in her normal daydream and is a puddle of misery by the time the test is done 45 minutes later.

By the time the table she is on slides out, Sylus is already in the room. She is immediately lifted back onto the bed, which she sinks into with relief. Reaching for Sylus’s hand once more, she wipes her eyes with the other hand.

Zayne approaches from the other side and takes that hand in his, wiping her tears away gently with his free hand.

“I am sorry to put you through that, Elly.” His voice is soft as Zayne looks down and Elly can see the regret on his face. She nods. She remembers similar times when her mom had to undergo grueling tests while in pain or so weak she couldn’t stand.

“I understand.” She meets his gaze and is momentarily stunned by how beautiful he is. Dark hair frames refined features that, despite the weariness on his face, or maybe because of it make her breath catch. Her eyes are drawn to his lush beautiful eyelashes. Longer than most girls. When she finally meets his eyes she is instantly lost. They are a more vibrant green than she could have imagined with streaks of gold that are like dappled sunlight through an ancient forest grove. They seem to hold both the tranquility of ages and hidden shadows. She feels like she could spend hours wandering their depths.

“Breathe, Elly.” His lips are pulled into a slight smile and his eyes shine with amusement as she gasps, only now realizing she’s been holding her breath. She feels a flush of heat spread up her chest and suffuse her neck and face. He brushes his knuckles along her cheek.

“Give me a few minutes to review the results. I will meet you back in your room.” As she is wheeled away she catches a look of masculine satisfaction on his face and feels her blush deepen. 

At a sound from Sylus, she turns to find him looking at her with a quiet intensity. She can see the heat in his eyes and something else she can’t interpret. No one has ever looked at her that way. The only looks she typically received from the few men in the real world who have ever shown any interest make her skin crawl. But it feels like Sylus is looking directly into her soul. She feels heat spread throughout her body waring with a tightness in her chest and pain in the back of her throat knowing that look isn’t for her. Not really. It is for MC. She doesn’t know how to respond so she looks away and coughs slightly but doesn’t release his hand.

 “Dream A Little Dream Of Me,” she says, trying to cover her confused feelings, afraid he sees right through her.

“Excuse me?” Sylus's voice is huskier than it has been and Elly trembles slightly at the sound but tries to ignore it.

“The, uh, song my mom used to sing. You asked about it earlier. It’s called Dream A Little Dream Of Me. I don’t know if you have it here.”

“You could always sing a little of it and I will tell you if I recognize it.” The teasing in his voice is back but there is something serious behind his eyes, leaving her more confused than ever. Where is Zayne? Surely he should be done by now? She is about to refuse but something about the look in his eyes stops her.

“Yeah. Sure. I can do that.” Trying to settle her emotions Elly closes her eyes and begins to sing her mom’s favorite song, which now that she thinks about it, has become her favorite song because it reminds her of her mother. It is funny how music can bridge any gap, even the death of a loved one.

“Stars shinin' bright above you

Night breezes seem to whisper, "I love you"

Birds singin' in the sycamore tree

Dream a little dream of me

Say, "Nighty-night" and kiss me

Just hold me tight and tell me you’ll miss me…” Elly realizes suddenly what the lyrics imply in context to the man holding her hand and stutters to a halt. 

“Well, you get the idea. When I was little I thought that it was a lullaby. That my mom was singing about me.” Despite being certain it is impossible. Despite her embarrassment and the dark shade of red, she is sure she has turned, she manages to meet Sylus’s eyes. There is a sad bittersweet smile on his face.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you sad. You just found MC a few months ago and now she is gone again. You deserve better after everything you’ve been through. I promise I will find a way to return her to you.” The stricken look on Sylus’s face confirms for Elly that he does miss MC as much as she fears and although it feels a little like her heart is breaking she tries to distance herself from him emotionally and reaffirms her intention to find a way to wake up and return home so they can have their MC back.

“No, kitten. That isn’t what…”

“It’s okay. I understand. Thank you for taking such good care of me since I’ve been here. I couldn’t have asked for better.” She tries to convey how much that means to her and knows whatever happens when she returns to the real world she will be leaving a piece of her heart here.

Suddenly the song takes on a whole new meaning to her. It occurs to her that her mom might also have lost a love that she was pining for that Elly didn’t know about. Sadness fills her at the realization that now she will never know. She will never be able to tell her mom about this incredible and heartbreaking dream. She feels Sylus tap his finger between her eyebrows. 

“Where did you go just now?” He asks, leaning into her line of sight with a teasing smile.

“Just thinking about my mom.” She is grateful for the change in subject and tries to smile but it is tinged with sadness.

“I’m sorry, kitten.” There is a sincerity in his eyes that threatens to break past the wall she is trying to build around her heart to protect herself and it fills her with frustration at how easily he seems to be able to breach her defenses without trying or even meaning to. 

“Don’t be. In a way, even though she is gone, she lives on through me. Like with her song. Some days that is the only thing that keeps me going.”

“Well, now you have me to help keep you going.” The look of devotion he gives her makes her want to cry and scream at the same time. Why won’t he understand? She is not who he wants. Doesn’t he realize that if he keeps this up there won’t be enough of her left when she has to return to be able to carry on? He is just making it that much harder for her when she inevitably is pulled back to the real world.

At the sound of a knock her attention is pulled to the door. She breathes a sigh of relief, grateful for the interruption.

“Sorry that took so long but I wanted to have Dr. Greyson confirm my findings.” He pauses a moment as though trying to find the words. Elly’s heart plummets.

“It’s okay, Zayne. I have lots of practice hearing bad news. You can tell me.”

“It is more unprecedented, than bad. Although you did suffer some additional injuries to the thoracic and lumbar spine including hairline fractures on the T11, T12, L1, and L2 vertebrae there is a discrepancy between the results  that were taken at Akso hospital and the results taken here.” Zayne pauses.

“What sort of discrepancy?” Elly’s heart constricts with fear. What if the fractures are pieces of overheard information from the real world that are being woven into her dream by her subconscious? Is it possible she will return to discover she has become an invalid? Her heart rate begins to speed up at the thought.

“I haven’t been able to determine the cause and may need to do additional tests, but the second set of test results prove that it isn’t an anomaly or mechanical failure. It would appear that you are healing at a much higher rate than anticipated.” Elly meets Zayne’s inquisitive gaze with a look of pure confusion.

“I don’t understand.”

“At a normal rate of recovery, it can take anywhere from 6 to 12 weeks to recuperate from this type of injury. After comparing the original test results from just after your abduction to the two we ran here it is clear. I calculate your recovery to take no more than one to two weeks if the regeneration rate remains stable, which it might not.” Zayne looks at Elly as if expecting her to have an answer but she is completely dumbfounded. 

"Could this be a result of this being a dream world? Time never runs normally in dreams.” She glances around in confusion. Her stomach knots itself up and her hands begin shaking slightly. When her gaze lands on Sylus she pauses. Instead of finding a confusion to equal hers, he has a look of smug gloating on his face. For the first time, she knows what the saying “like the cat that got the cream” refers to. It perfectly describes the look on Sylus’s face and Elly’s stomach flips in more ways than one.

“Sylus? What is going on?”

Chapter Text

Xavier

From the moment they exited the hospital the gunmen exhibited military precision in every action and decision. Xavier knows they won’t be far behind and doesn’t linger over his goodbye with Elly. He and Sylus share a glance and a nod of agreement. Knowing the other man will protect her with his life Xavier gets into the passenger side of one of the ambulances. In the driver’s seat is one of the crow boys, who he later learns is Luke. As they drive Xavier interrogates Luke for any details on the attempted abduction. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have much more information than Xavier.

They lead their pursuers on a merry chase. The other vehicles are sleek and fast for their size and have received some impressive upgrades. The gunmen are careful in timing their shots when it won’t draw the attention of the authorities. Xavier occasionally uses his light Evol to back off pursuit and convince them Elly is still in the vehicle. It takes a while since they keep making unexpected turns. Still, eventually, they are in a completely different part of Linkon on a rutted road with dilapidated warehouses on either side. 

“Time to lose them?” Xavier turns to Luke.

“Boss wants to take them alive for questioning.” Xavier nods in response.

“Start to drop back and allow them to pull alongside.” He says. Surprisingly Luke doesn’t argue and pulls back as requested. A few flashes of his light Evol and the tires and motor are disabled. As the other vehicle slows down they match speed. Once it has come to a complete stop they cautiously get out, ready for any retaliation. Xavier creeps toward the other vehicle when a wave of pressure and noise hits him. Only reflexes finely honed by decades of fighting wanderers allow him to turn the momentum from the blast into a backward flip and land on his feet. Ears still ringing, he sprints to the vehicle but it is entirely engulfed in fire. He is unable to approach too closely.

Xavier goes around to the other side of the ambulance and helps Luke to his feet. The crow’s mask is slightly askew but he rights it before Xavier can get more than a glimpse of scars.

“Boss is gonna be pissed. This isn’t my fault.” Luke points accusingly at Xavier.

“Nothing I did to the vehicle would have caused this. I think it was rigged to explode if the vehicle was disabled.” Xavier rubs the back of his neck and then turns.

“Shit, I gotta warn Kieran.” Luke hurries to the ambulance as Xavier heads back to the passenger side. Unfortunately, there is no point in staying. It will be hours before the other vehicle is cool enough to check for any surviving evidence. 

“Will do. Everything okay with the boss lady?” Luke asks someone on the radio.

“She is undergoing tests. I will report if there is any news.” Sylus’s voice comes over the speaker.

“We will head that way now,” Luke says, reaching to hang up but Xavier stops him.

“I need to make a couple of stops,” Xavier tells Sylus.

“Is this related to the kidnapping or the cafe situation?” Sylus asks impatiently.

“Potentially both,” Xavier responds.

“Luke will take you anywhere you need to go.” The line disconnects.

“Where to?” Luke asks with a playful tone.

“I need to pick up flowers for Elly.” Luke looks at Xavier oddly but follows his directions to Philo after they swap vehicles at a closed mechanic shop for an unremarkable SUV.

“Stay here,” Xavier tells Luke as he exits the vehicle. 

“No can do. The boss told me to stay with you at all times. If we get separated you won’t have a way to reach us… or find her.” Although he knows he can find her using the biotrace, Xavier relents since he can only use his Evol to get to a destination he has been to previously.

 The first errand is quickly accomplished. Jeremiah is updated on the situation and supplies Xavier with an untraceable phone. Xavier sends a quick message to Captain Jenna using his hunter’s watch and then destroys it. Just in case. 

Luke’s confusion about the flower shop turns to understanding and then open admiration once he sees Jeremiah’s setup. Although Xavier would have preferred not to reveal it to Luke he tries to mitigate the situation by minimizing all the holoscreens. Worst case scenario Xavier knows they have contingencies in place. They can burn it all to the ground many times over if they need to. He almost forgets a small bouquet of forget-me-nots.

“Where to next?” Luke asks. Xavier can tell he is practically vibrating with curiosity at this point, but surprisingly, he doesn’t ask anything more.

“Prestara University.” Luke frowns at the location but shrugs his shoulders and begins driving. It isn’t long before they arrive. Knowing it is pointless to argue again about staying in the vehicle, Xavier heads unerringly toward one of the lecture halls. The lecture is being given by Ulysses, who raises an eyebrow at seeing Xavier and Luke enter but doesn’t miss a beat. After an hour he finally winds to a conclusion advising his students on what to study before the next class. As he finishes and begins gathering his things he nods at Xavier to follow him and turns to leave without waiting. Expecting this Xavier is already on his feet and smirks to himself as Luke rushes to catch up.

“Did you get my message?” Ulysses asks as he closes his office door behind them, giving Luke an odd look but choosing to ignore the crow. Xavier knows having a masked man as a companion is hardly the strangest thing that Ulysses has ever seen from Xavier.

“Sorry, something urgent came up. I take it you completed the research I requested?” 

“Yes, I have the information here.” He hands a data cube to Xavier who tucks it away in one of the many pockets in his hunter’s uniform.

“Were you able to run the tests I asked for as well?” Xavier feels a moment of unease that Ulysses wasn’t able to get the information but the professor just nods.

“I’ve included a copy of the raw data on the cube. This is one of the things I wanted to discuss with you.” The physicist pulls up a large holoscreen that spans almost an entire wall. “Here is the information laid out on a timeline. I reached out to other research centers to fill in the holes.” 

With Luke looking over his shoulder curiously, Xavier reviews the information on the holoscreen and a chill runs down his spine.

“This can’t be correct.”

“That’s why I had to check with the other research centers.”

“This shouldn’t be possible.”

“We both know how the machine can be used to “recreate” one, but if this information is correct, it wasn’t recreating one, it was connecting to one. This could revolutionize our understanding of the many worlds theory and how they interact.”

“Even if this is accurate, this information cannot be shared outside this room.” Xavier purposefully doesn’t specify what they are discussing casting a sidelong look at their audience. Ulysses seems to catch on because he doesn’t mention it as well.

“You can’t be serious Xavier. A breakthrough of this magnitude needs to be reviewed by the scientific community at large.” Xavier narrows his eyes and straightens to his full height, his expression turning cold.

“I am serious, Ulysses. If this information gets into the wrong hands it could irrevocably alter the course of the future.” Xavier’s tone is grim as he looks at his friend. Ulysses pales and backs up slightly, whether, in response to what Xavier is saying or something he sees on Xavier’s face, Xavier doesn’t know and doesn’t particularly care. All that matters is Ulysses takes this seriously. Xavier keeps eye contact with his friend until Ulysses finally nods and closes the holoscreen.

“Once I have reviewed the data, we can discuss it again and decide what is safe to release. Please continue to monitor it and send me updates at this number. Is there anything else you want to discuss?” Xavier shows Ulysses his number but doesn’t write it down. He knows the other man will remember it.

“Ahem, no that was everything.” His eyes shift away when Xavier tries to meet his gaze.

“I mean it. If this information gets out I will know who to blame.” All emotion has left his voice as he says this and Ulysses visibly shudders before finally looking him in the eye.

“I understand.” Xavier hopes that is true because Ulysses has been a good friend to him and he would hate for anything to change that. Xavier nods goodbye and turns to leave, ushering Luke out the door. He needs to check the equipment at the Traceback II. It goes back further than the machine he built with Ulysses and other members of the backtrackers. It is what they based the new technology on after all. But Xavier can’t risk its existence or location falling into Onychinus’s hands.

Finally, they are on their way to Elly. Xavier breathes a sigh of relief then frowns when he realizes they are heading out of Linkon. Xavier yearns to pull up the information on the data cube to begin reviewing it but doesn’t want to reveal any more to Luke or Onychinus than he already has.

“Where are we going?” He asks instead.

“To the estate of a wealthy businessman whose health has been in decline.” Luke snickers under his breath but Xavier catches it.

“Will Elly be safe enough at this estate?” Xavier asks. Luke just chuckles behind his mask and keeps driving.

When they arrive Xavier assesses the security. Although it looks exactly as Xavier had imagined from the description he also notices the high-tech security measures in place. If he can see that much security he is sure there are even more subtle measures that he cannot see. He feels a lot better about Elly’s safety. The estate is set up like a fortress. It would take an army to breach their walls.

After they park in a hidden underground garage it is Xavier’s turn to follow Luke as they make their way to the east wing of the estate. Luke opens the door of an opulent yet strangely nondescript hallway and gestures Xavier through. Xavier can hear Elly say something and a tension he didn’t realize he had releases as he hurries into the room. He ignores Sylus who sits on the other side of her bed holding her hand. Zayne stands at the foot of the bed with a holo display floating before him.

“Xavier!” Hearing Elly say his name with such joy in her voice makes him feel lighter and he hurries to the empty side of her bed handing her the forget-me-nots. Her face lights up and she brings them to her face then sets them next to her on the bed and reaches out her hand. He gladly takes it, lacing their fingers together then presses a soft kiss to her knuckles.

“Are you okay, Starlight?” He hears her breath catch at the nickname but he doesn’t take it back. She is his Starlight, even if she doesn’t believe it yet. With the problem of the portal being resolved for the time being it is time to tell her how she arrived so she can stop second guessing their connection.

“I’m getting there.” She smiles tremulously at him and his heart rate picks up slightly. “Apparently I am healing faster than anticipated. Sylus was just about to tell us what he knows about it before your arrival.” She looks archly at Sylus who returns her look with an intimate one of his own. Xavier grits his teeth but hangs onto his composure. He looks to Zayne for confirmation.

“The test results are irrefutable.” Xavier turns back to look at Sylus expectantly.

“Elly is activating the healing aspect of my Evol.” The satisfaction in Sylus’s voice is unmistakable.

Elinor

“Elly is activating the healing aspect of my Evol.” Her relief that Xavier has returned unharmed flies right out of her head as she laughs.

“Be serious, Sylus.” Elly meets his eyes, sure he is joking but his expression doesn’t change. Her breath catches in her throat and her heart begins to pound. “That isn’t possible,” she says as the knots in her stomach tighten further and her shaky feeling intensifies. “ I don’t have an Evol.” His expression softens slightly.

“Have you wondered why you haven’t let go of my hand since the abduction attempt?” He asks quietly, lifting their linked hands briefly to emphasize the question. Elly blushes slightly and the knots in her stomach begin churning. She tries to release his hand but Sylus doesn’t let go.

“No. It just makes me feel better. Safer.” 

“During the kidnapping attempt, you used my Evol, Elly. I felt it. It’s the only reason I found you in time.” Elly just shakes her head silently. Unable to articulate a response.

“Think about it kitten. Put your attention on our linked hands. What do you feel?” Elly frowns. She doesn’t understand what Sylus is asking. She feels her normal jittery anxiety, just dialed up a few notches since the abduction attempt. She looks at him in confusion. She tries to let him go so she can rub the center of her chest where it is starting to feel tight but can’t bring herself to let go.

“Kitten, you are resonating with me.” Beyond his typical smirk, Elly sees pride and happiness and something deeper she doesn’t have the bandwidth to decipher.

“How is it even possible? Could it be dream mechanics? MC could resonate so while I’m in this dream I can too? But that doesn’t make any sense because she can’t resonate with you yet.” Elly’s thoughts go round in circles.

“Eliwyn never resonated with me, but you can.” That deeper emotion in his eyes grows but she barely registers as her mind begins to run in circles trying to figure out how to make them understand.

“Elly, you aren’t in a dream.” As she turns back toward Xavier she catches Sylus raising one eyebrow at Xavier out of the corner of her eye.

“Of course, it’s a dream. Or a coma or something.” She tries to convince them of the truth all the while wondering how to convince them. Why would the literal men of her dreams believe they are only a dream? Realistically if the roles were reversed she probably wouldn’t believe it either.

“How do you think you got to Linkon, kitten?” Sylus pulls her attention back to him and she tries to think back.

“All I remember is the attack and then waking up in Akso hospital.” When Sylus meets her gaze there is compassion in his eyes.

“I think we should tell her everything,” Xavier says.

“But you said…” Sylus begins but Xavier cuts him off.

“That is no longer a concern at this point and it’s the only way to convince her of the truth.” Sylus nods and continues.

“I’m sorry kitten, you didn’t just lose consciousness there and wake up here. We brought you here from your world.” He looks at her steadily and she can’t detect any evidence he is joking or lying. She can’t think of a reason for him to lie but she knows all four of the love interests are masters at hiding and twisting the truth.

A look passes between Xavier and Sylus Elly looks uncertainly between them, not sure if she can trust them, before finally turning to Zayne.

“Zayne?” She looks at him pleadingly. He may hide things about his top-secret research but he is the least likely of the love interests to lie to MC about something like this. At least she thinks so. He doesn’t have past lives with her to color his perceptions and expectations. For him, those are all in the future if she understands the timeline correctly so he has less reason to lie. This has to be a dream. The longer she is here the harder it is becoming to keep her emotions separated from the four men.

As much as she wishes it wasn’t she knows there is no other explanation. It’s so tempting to give into the dream and pretend it’s real, if only for a little while. But, all that will do is make it harder when she ends up back in her old life. How will she survive that? She already cared about them before arriving here and if they keep treating her like MC she won’t be strong enough to survive losing them. She has grown to care for all of them too much. She can’t go through that kind of loss. Not again.

Zayne’s eyes meet hers for a moment and instead of the reassurance she is hoping for they soften the way they do sometimes in the game. Then he looks away and brings his hand up to straighten his tie. Something he does in the game when he is uncomfortable. Dread tangles and coils through the anxiety already roiling in her stomach.

“You have to believe me.” She tries again.

“Kitten, when you didn’t read any of my text messages for over a month I got worried. As it turns out, I wasn’t the only one.”

Sylus explains how he went to Zayne and they sought out Xavier and eventually Rafayel approached them. Of how Rafayel rescued her from her attacker using a supposed portal that has since disappeared. She just shakes her head in denial. This isn’t possible. 

Elly’s anxiety spikes and she hears a strange rushing sound. Chills run along her spine and she grows colder and colder until she is shivering uncontrollably. As the tremors increase her pain intensifies exponentially. Unable to draw breath she’s gasping for air as her vision begins to darken. Someone is calling to her through the noise but she can’t make out what they are saying over the rushing noise.

A sensation of weight and warmth and comfort begins to penetrate the cold and panic until the rushing sound begins to recede and she hears a tender voice telling her it is okay. She will be okay. No matter what happens she is not alone. She will never be alone again. Her trembling slowly abates until her body is limp with exhaustion and the pain dissipates.

“That’s it, Starlight. Breathe, baby. I’ve got you. You’re okay. I’m not going anywhere.” Drawing in a ragged breath, Elly inhales the scent of freshly laundered cotton and old books and a masculine undertone she can’t quite describe. It is how home should smell and is so comforting that she begins to tear up.

“Don’t cry, kitten. I won’t let anything happen to you either.” Finally, her vision brightens enough for her to see again. Elly finds herself cradled in the warm embrace of Sylus and Xavier. Somehow they both managed to climb onto either side of her bed. Their arms enfold her carefully like she is something precious. A groan sounds from the end of the bed.

“Zayne?” Confused Elly looks around but doesn’t see him.

“Give him a minute, sweetheart. That took a lot out of us.” Sylus’s voice holds a note of exhaustion that wasn’t there before, his breath fans across her cheek and she turns toward him to better meet his gaze only to discover his mouth so close she almost brushes her lips against his on accident. Her lips part in a gasp and she sees Sylus’s focus on them for a moment. His eyes darken slightly but he makes no move to close the infinitesimal gap.

Although she longs to close it herself, she pushes that part of her down and ignores the warmth that is stirring in her chest, focusing instead on the rest of his face. His eyes are lined with weariness, his face almost haggard. She raises her hand, fingers lightly tracing the lines around his eyes and mouth. He closes his eyes and leans into her touch.

“What happened?” Her voice is barely a whisper as exhaustion pulls on her as well and she wonders if she looks as exhausted as Sylus. It’s Xavier who responds.

“Try to stay calm, Starlight. This might be hard to hear but you activated all our Evols. At once.” Elly’s freezes in disbelief. Sylus opens his eyes and meets her gaze steadily with trust and something deeper. She flinches back as a thrill of anxiety and fear pulses through her and her breath catches. Did she do that? How is any of this possible? How does she make sure it doesn’t happen again if she can’t tell when she’s doing anything? As her anxiety mounts she barely registers when Sylus’s eyes widen and his large hand moves up to massage the back of her head and neck. Elly can feel the fizzing of her anxiety as it continues to rise. She tries desperately to push it down but only manages to make it worse. 

“You can do it, Elly. Breathe with me.” Sylus presses his forehead against hers and breathes in deeply. Xavier’s arms tighten around her and she can hear him murmuring to her that it’s alright. It helps to anchor her. She closes her eyes and tries to match her breathing with Sylus but her heart continues to race and her anxiety ratchets up another notch.

“It’s… not… working…” She gets out between gasps of breath.

“Sorry, sweetie.” The apology barely registers through her growing panic. At the touch of soft warm lips against hers, however, her brain and body short-circuit. The shock of it breaks through her anxiety and panic, leaving her breathless for an altogether different reason. Xavier’s arms tighten around her almost painfully as Sylus’s supple lips caress hers gently, his hand cradling the back of her head. Warmth blooms in her chest, spreading outward as her mind struggles to form a coherent thought and fails. 

Sylus doesn’t try to deepen the kiss but slowly and thoroughly explores her lips with his. An onslaught of feelings and sensations effectively prevents Elly’s brain from returning to the negative anxiety loop. For once she lets go and allows herself to melt against him, returning his kiss tentatively. Having never kissed anyone before she doesn’t know what to expect but this gentle caress lips feels somehow relaxing yet stirs something deep within her. What feels like an eternity later and also far too soon, Sylus draws back and rests his forehead against hers as the hand cradling her head returns to massaging her scalp and neck.

“Feeling better, sweetie?” Sylus’s voice has the teasing lilt she is familiar with from the game but is deeper and almost breathless.

Elly nods as she struggles to return her breathing and heart rate to normal. Once she can string a coherent thought together her cheeks begin to flame at the realization that Sylus only kissed her to break through her panic.

“Oh gods, I am so sorry.” She tries to draw away from him. His hand on the back of her head gently prevents her from pulling away.

“Don’t.” The command is so abrupt that she stops. “Don’t think for a moment that I regret that. Or that I didn’t want to kiss you with every fiber of my being. My only regret is in the timing and that you weren’t given a choice.” The desire in his beautiful red eyes is so palpable that Elly’s heart skips a beat and it feels like butterflies are trying to escape her chest.

“Can you forgive me for that?” Sylus asks tentatively. The look he gives her is completely serious and she can tell he is trying not to let the thread of fear show, but she sees it nonetheless. If he only knew how much she has wanted to be able to kiss him for months now, he wouldn’t doubt or fear. But she can’t tell him. That would only make everything harder and more complicated when she returns.

“Yes. I forgive you.” Is all she says as she meets his eyes with unwavering forgiveness in hers.

A groan and scuffle pull her attention away from Sylus as Zayne uses the bed to pull himself up from the floor. He sways slightly for a moment before steadying.

“Zayne, are you okay?” Elly asks, concern coloring her voice.

“Yes. I seem to be more susceptible to the pull of your Evol. Likely due to the remnants of the neurotoxin still in my system.” He raises confused eyes to the bed and seeing the two men pressed against Elly his eyes widen. Elly watches as the confusion turns to surprise then a flash of hurt and something darker before a shutter drops and he retreats behind his impassive doctor facade. He looks away, scanning the floor for a moment before retrieving his data cube. Clicking something the holo screen pops back up and he reviews it before raising his eyes back to the bed, apparently cataloging every detail. His impassive expression doesn’t betray any emotions or what information he is gleaning.

“How are you feeling? What is your current pain level from one to ten with one being very mild and ten being the worst pain you have ever felt?” Elly pauses to consider and realizes that for the moment, clasped tightly in Xavier and Sylus’s embrace she doesn’t feel any pain. Gingerly she moves her hands and arms. Then her legs and feet. Finally, she cautiously moves her head and neck but the expected flare of pain never materializes. There is some soreness and aching but the deep burning agony is completely gone.

“It’s a one, maybe a two maximum,” Elly says with awe in her voice. She didn’t realize how much the pain was affecting her until now. For the first time, her mind feels clear. “How is this possible?”

“It appears that Sylus was correct and that Evol storm or whatever it is sped up the process. We will need to rerun all the tests but judging from the current position of your spine I theorize we are likely to see a dramatic improvement in your results. Let me go get the equipment ready. I will also need to run more extensive tests on your Evol and since it seems to be set off by your anxiety, I am prescribing a higher dose of the anxiety medication to prevent another Evol storm until we know more.” Without another word, he turns and leaves the room.

Groaning at the thought of more tests it takes Elly a moment to realize what he means about the position of her spine. That’s when she becomes aware that in turning toward Sylus she has contorted her back until her shoulders are almost perpendicular to the bed but her hips are still flat. Her face heats as she realizes her back and shoulders are supported by Xavier’s who is flush up against her right side.

“Oh, god! I am so sorry.” She tries to disentangle herself from the men but both of their arms tighten around her.

“Don’t move Starlight. You need to rest after that. You aren’t used to it.” His voice is low and airy like he is speaking through a yawn. He sleepily nudges her hips up with his until she is fully on her side and her spine is in better alignment. He shifts his right leg between hers and snuggles closer until he is flush against her back, nuzzling into her neck before his breathing evens out almost immediately into slumber.

“The hunter is right. We will worry about everything later. You should rest while you can,” Sylus whispers, his breath fanning across her face making her shiver. The breathy whisper in her ear is so much like the Secret Times function in the game that she used to fall asleep to every night before her phone broke. She finds herself relaxing completely, unconsciously hugging him closer. 

Elly’s eyes, already drooping, feel even heavier and she finds herself fighting to keep them open. Perhaps it wouldn’t be a bad idea to rest them. Just for a little while. She mutters something in acquiescence and just as she feels herself drifting off there is a light press of lips to her forehead before Sylus tucks her head into his chest and she floats away.

Chapter Text

Rafayel

Luckily the warning from Xavier comes just in time. Instead of aiming to disable the vehicle, Rafayel has Kieran get close enough that Rafayel can use his chains to drag the gunmen out of the open windows. The driver tries to roll his window up but since he already has the other men, Rafayel no longer cares about damaging the vehicle. Granted they all receive broken bones and other injuries but the ends justify the means.

“He doesn’t know anything either,” Kieran says hours later, frustration evident in his voice as they finish the final interrogation. Rafayel watches him impassively. His face is devoid of emotion as it has been throughout the interrogations. His focus and attention never wavers. He has no time for frustration, worry, fear, or guilt. He knows these emotions will rise once he completes this task but doesn’t allow that to stop him.

Carefully he cleans the blood from his blades before vanishing them. It has taken several hours of questioning to get through the culprits of both the kidnapping attempt and the ensuing chase. With no luck. Despite the eager assistance of Kieran. Rafayel has learned plenty, but unfortunately, none of it relates to the situation at hand. The only information Rafayel has gleaned from their most recent job is that whoever hired them knows how to cover their tracks. Not even their previous jobs point to a specific group or company.

“What now?” The crow asks through gritted teeth. Rafayel doesn’t respond. They make quite a pair. One in a dark hooded outfit with horns and a crow mask and Rafayel who is back in his dark hooded leathers for both the intimidation factor and the ease of cleaning. He doesn’t bother with a mask, however. Walking into the black-tiled room hidden deep under the headquarters of Onychinus in the N109 zone he had already decided that none of the men responsible would be leaving it alive. Luckily Kieran’s orders must have been similar because he participated with an almost unsettling delight.

When their eyes meet over the corpse of the final mercenary Rafayel is surprised to see that the bloodthirsty glee in the crow’s expression is now mixed with a dawning respect. He glances around at the other bodies. Something about them bothers him but he can’t pinpoint what it is. Not yet.

“There’s something we are missing.”

Kieran paces the room, his footsteps echoing hollowly in the cavernous space—a stark counterpoint to the rhythmic dripping of the drain built into the floor. Silently, Rafayel glides to the darkest corner of the room and crouches, a position he can hold for hours if necessary. His body goes completely still as his mind turns inward. To an outside observer, it would look like he melts into the shadows and disappears.

He goes over the interrogation again, looking at it as an outside observer. There is something there that he missed. Something that will give him the next lead. He relives every detail, every word, and every microexpression. It isn’t in any of the answers they gave. He goes over the details of their features, grooming, clothing, and weaponry. All of the men had the same high-quality gear.

Somewhere in all the details is the answer. He knows it. He has learned to trust this feeling. Something is off. There is a discrepancy he hasn’t found yet. He needs to give his brain time to bring it to the surface. After exhausting all the information from the interrogation, he goes over every moment of the escape and pursuit.

For some reason, his mind keeps circling back to the gear so he follows that thought. The weapons, body armor, and even the clothing are of the highest quality, used only by the most elite mercenaries. His brain catches on to that thought. Something about it is incorrect.

“Do you have access to footage of the kidnapping?”

Rafayel’s voice seems to come from everywhere at once due to the echo and acoustics of the room. Kieran flinches infinitesimally but Rafayel notes it with amusement. Kieran pulls it up on a holoscreen he has in his interior jacket pocket then throws it to the corner where Rafayel is.

“Boss has the uncorrupted feed. Unfortunately, Linkon City Police weren’t so lucky.”

Rafayel smirks to himself. Knowing what he does about Onychinus he has no doubt who is behind the video feed issue. He understands the reasoning of keeping the authorities in the dark and agrees with it. They would be as useless in this situation as they have been in his own. As for Sylus, there is a reason Rafayel has been careful up till now not to come up on Onychinus' radar. He doesn’t doubt his ability to survive and escape if Sylus decides he is inconvenient, but it isn’t worth risking collateral damage to the one he loves. 

He hits the play button on the screen. Being used to seeing much worse than a foiled kidnapping he isn’t prepared for the visceral reaction he has to watching Elly fight for her life with no training and no help. His vision tunnels and he is filled with a blinding fury unlike anything he has ever felt. Although his heart rages in his chest to all outward appearances he is calm and detached. Rafayel has complete control of his body and reactions. Moving past his emotional response, however, takes a little effort but once he does, he can view the video objectively. He watches it several times gleaning every available detail until finally one stands out.

“What?” Kieran frowns at Rafayel looking from him to the video and back, trying to see what he sees.

“Can you get me footage of the chase? Anything that shows the mercenaries in action.”

“I don’t have access here and Luke is better. I’ll message him. It will be ready by the time we arrive.” Rafayel nods and lets Kieran precede him from the room. No doubt someone will take care of the bodies. 

It doesn’t take long before they are heading out of the N109 zone. Instead of heading directly back into Linkon as Rafayel anticipated, they take a different route around the city. On the drive, Rafayel sheds his current persona and mannerisms along with the leathers. Before the interrogations, they had detoured to Whitesand Bay so Rafayel could grab a few items. He quickly dons a casual silk shirt of periwinkle blue, white slacks, and a stylish bespoke belt made by one of the best leather crafters on the planet and a close friend of Rafayel. All while slowly transitioning back to his artist persona. It is such a gradual change that Kieran doesn’t even notice.

Eventually, they pull up to the heavy gates of a seemingly nondescript estate. Luke speaks into a speaker for a moment and the gates begin to open.

Despite its outward appearance Rafayel immediately notices several high-security measures in place and knows there will be even more he can’t see. He guesses if he ever had to covertly gain access it would take him weeks of planning to successfully execute a strike. Rafayel hurriedly follows Kieran to where Luke is waiting with the requested footage. As he is reviewing it he glances at Luke.

“You see her?” He asks the tech-savvy crow casually.

“Yes.”

“She’s okay, yeah?” The other man grunts an affirmative while Rafayel scrutinizes the current video clip, seemingly unaware of anything but taking in every detail of the room and the other man’s reaction. Something is off about the response but nothing that sends alarm bells so Rafayel focuses on the task at hand, gets the clip that confirms his findings, and transfers it to a mobile holoscreen.

When he stands up, Kieran also gets to his feet and motions for Rafayel to follow him. Rafayel memorizes the estate's layout as Kieran takes him on a circuitous route through the building until they reach a hallway with double doors at the end that are wide enough to accommodate a hospital bed. There are equally wide doors at intervals down the hallway but much wider intervals than would be allowed in a standard hospital.

As he draws near the doors at the end, Rafayel experiences the familiar thrill of fear that always washes through him right before seeing Elly and pushes it down. Although he knows it’s impossible, he can’t help feeling she will instinctively know the terrible things he has done and will reject him. He doesn’t let this show though. Instead, he pushes the doors open with a pouting smile but freezes in his tracks. All thought has completely disappeared.

“Rafayel!” The joy in her voice and face freezes him almost as much as the sight of her sitting upright unassisted on an exam table.

“You look like a fish right now.” Elly teases as she cautiously lowers herself to the ground, wincing slightly, then walks up to him. With a wry smile, she uses her index finger to push up his chin where his mouth hangs open unnoticed.

At her touch, his breath catches in his throat and his heart wants to leap out of his chest. There is a fluttery feeling in his stomach as he takes her in. She looks exhausted but she is whole for the first time since he found her broken and bleeding and thought he was going to lose her for good. Her cheeks flame a little when he doesn’t immediately say anything and she takes a step back.

“I guess I should properly introduce myself now that I am not flat on my back. Oh gods, that came out wrong. Um, anyway. Hi, I’m Elinor Wrede.” She reaches out her hand to shake his. He doesn’t even let her finish her statement. He grabs her outstretched hand and uses it to pull her in and wraps his arms around her, letting it settle something in him that has been on edge since the night he rescued her.

She freezes for a moment then melts into him and returns the hug. He closes his eyes and relaxes into her completely. He is enveloped in her scent, sweet and intoxicating and he breathes it in. The bond pulses subtly in time with his heart, telling him that this is where she belongs. Safe in his arms. Lowering his head until his chin rests on the top of hers, Rafayel allows himself a moment of respite as he holds his once and future bride in his arms. He finally feels whole.

“How is this possible?” He asks, his voice catching on tears he refuses to shed as his arms tighten around her.

***

Elinor

Elly almost loses her balance when Rafayel pulls her into a hug. It doesn’t help that she is unsteady on her feet, both from the mood stabilizers and pain medication Zayne prescribed, not to mention the exhaustion that still weighs on her. Once she is over her surprise she wants to pull away, keep her distance but can’t deny the urge to give in and accept the hug. Especially one given by Rafayel who always seems touch shy until he really gets to know someone. Although it doesn’t feel like it to her, they are strangers who just barely met. If she rejects him, she is sure he will take it personally. So she wraps her arms around him, squeezing gently. Enjoying the quiet strength in his arms. Melting into him like it’s the most natural thing in the world, because somehow it is. 

She turns her head and lays her ear to his chest, his shirt surprisingly soft against her cheek. The sound of his heartbeat settles something inside her, soothing her. She doesn’t know what to do with that information or how her body begins to react to his proximity. Her temperature rises slowly and her she begins to feel a little breathless and theres a fizzy sensation in her stomach. She can’t be having this reaction. He isn’t hers. None of them are. But, it’s getting harder and harder to fight not only her physical but emotional attraction to them. 

Unsure if she believes the story of how she arrived here or not, Elly can’t ignore the fact that she still hasn’t woken up in the real world. She needs to figure what is really going on and how to return so they can have their soul mate back. And, she needs to find a way to remain aloof until she does. Once this hug is over anyway.

“How is this possible?” He murmurs into her hair and her heart melts a little at the wonder in his voice. She shrugs, not sure how to answer, and starts to pull back but his arms tighten around her.

“That is what we are attempting to ascertain. If you don’t mind releasing my patient so I can proceed?” Zayne’s cold steady voice cuts through and Rafayel’s arms release her as she reluctantly steps back.

Rafayel’s eyes twinkle with merriment, not the slightest bit chastised by Zayne’s tone of voice and it makes Elly’s heart flutter in her chest so she averts her eyes, awkwardly stepping away and back to the exam table. Still a little unsteady she climbs onto it, not looking too closely at Rafayel or meeting his gaze. Zayne listens to her heart and she uses it as an excuse to close her eyes.

“I still have a couple of more extensive heart scans I need. I will have Yvonne come in and get the sensors attached. Give me a moment.” With that Zayne exits without looking at her and she tries to tell herself she is glad at least one if them seem to be keeping their distance. 

“So, cutie. What did I miss?” Rafayel’s voice is a teasing lilting tone that she remembers from the game and she can imagine his eyes dancing but she keeps hers closed. His antics always make her smile when playing the game, no matter how sad or tired she is. In person it's even more affecting. 

“I’m not sure exactly what happened. I had some sort of anxiety attack that affected everyones Evols. The upside is that it appears to have activated Sylus’s healing on me. That’s the theory anyway. We are still confirming but the stab wound and broken back are gone at least.” Elly purposefully turns her mind away from the method Sylus used to stop her anxiety attack. At least she tries to.

“Are your eyes still bothering you? I can find you some sunglasses or I’m sure Zayne would turn the lights down in here for you.” Elly hears Rafayel step a little closer.  

“Um, no. My eyes are fine.” She opens her eyes but aims them at the floor. Not surprisingly he is wearing expensive and fashionable looking gray shoes with his creme colored slacks. She watches as they draw slowly closer. She opens her mouth to ask him to stop but can’t bring herself to utter the words.

“Why are you mad at me?” She can hear the pout in his voice and although she tries not to her lips tilt up in a small smile.

“I’m not mad at you, Rafayel. I promise.” He stops in front of her, not touching her but so close that when she takes a breath she inhales his scent. It’s subtle. Sea salt and sandalwood and a hint of something sweet and tropical. The same way he had smelled in the hospital when he held her as she cried. She expected a high end cologne but remembers from his cards that his nose is as sensitive to scents as his eyes are to color. He probably can’t stand artificial fragrances.

“Then why won’t you look at me?” He whispers. His voice is a wheedling teasing tone but she can hear a thread of something serious under it. Something closer to his Abysswalker secret times. She shivers slightly as the sound sends a thrill through her. Is there nothing about these men that doesn’t get to her on some level? How is she supposed to handle it and stay aloof? 

She shakes her head but doesn’t know what to say. How do you tell someone they are too beautiful? That you might already have fallen in love with him just from playing the game and now that you are physically here you are afraid of falling any more deeply? While Elly refuses to pick a favorite in the game, she always feels a special connection to Rafayel. His devotion and insecurity, his fierce protection of the Lemurians has always touched something in her. When she fell apart at the hospital he was the one to comfort her, somehow knowing exactly what she needed. Even now it is everything she can do not lean into him, to let him hold her again. To beg him to. But that wouldn’t be fair to him or his MC.

“Look at me, Elly. Please?” She can hear the pout and whine in his voice but also a note of something fragile. It tugs at Elly’s heart. She knows every step she takes closer to these men will only make it harder when she eventually finds a way to bring them back their MC’s and separate plot lines. But, she can’t deny him when he asks her like that. Can’t bring herself to hurt him that way. Slowly she raises her head, taking her time, trying to steal herself. Delaying as long as possible. 

Although his outfit is different from any of the ones in the game, it’s still very Rafayel. The cream pants and bluish-purple shirt are definitely what she would consider his style and look expensive as hell. The top couple of buttons are left open in a casual way that draws attention to his clavicle and upper chest. She isn’t prepared for the breadth of his shoulders or how his deceptively slender swimmers physique still manages to feel imposing when combined with his height and proximity. Or how her cheeks flush and her heart rate picks up speed. She tries to force her mind away from such thoughts. Finally she takes a deep steadying breath but that only makes it harder as she inhales his scent. Realizing nothing is going to make this easier she raises her eyes to look him in the face.

It’s as devastating as she feared. Rafayel is too pretty to be real and her breath catches. Her heart skips a beat and she gets a wrenching feeling in her stomach. Worse than butterflies or nerves. Like the bottom has dropped out. Almost feminine in his beauty he still contains a boyish masculinity. His lips are drawn up in a self deprecating half smile but it’s the hurt she sees on his face that makes her heart ache. Her eyes well up knowing she is the one responsible for it.

“I’m sorry, Rafayel. It’s not you.” Elly tries to explain. This time he’s the one who turns his head away and won’t look at her.

“No worries, cutie. It’s been a long day and I’m sooo exhausted I could sleep for a week. I’ll let you finish so you can get some rest.” His voice is imbued with his typical dramatic flare but there is still a thread of hurt in it. Elly knows he feels things more deeply than he lets on. That he uses the dramatics to hide his true feelings or intentions. He moves as though to walk away but she reaches up and caresses his cheeks, slowly turning him back to look at her until their eyes finally meet. His cheeks and the tips of his ears turn slightly pink at her touch.

“I’m afraid of feeling more for you than I already do,” she whispers. “It’s already going to be so hard when this all ends…” As she speaks all she can see is the hurt and that thread of something deeper in his eyes until it softens and is replaced by understanding as waves of aquamarine and pink pull her into their depths and seem to shift and flow together. She gasps in wonder at their loveliness. She doesn’t even realize she has leaned forward until her lips are pressed gently against Rafayel’s. There’s a zing of desire and electricity that spears through her at the touch and she jerks back.

“Oh gods, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.” She hurries to say, face and body aflame. His eyes are filled with mirth.

“It’s okay, cutie. I don’t mind.” He winks and gives her a cheeky grin. Through her discomfort and awkwardness Elly notices that all traces of pain and hurt are gone from his eyes. Perhaps the embarrassment is worth it she decides.

Yvonne arrives then and Rafayel leaves with a wave. Once Elly is wired up for sound Zayne returns and they complete the additional tests. He remains completely professional and aloof during the tests and although that is what she wants, Elly can’t help feeling saddened by it. At least when this eventually ends he will be able to happily continue his life with his MC.

Elly’s still not sure if she believes that this isn’t a dream or coma, but even if it’s not, surely they’ll find a way to return her home so they can have their Eliwyn back. When that happens she’ll have to sever any ties with this universe and go back to her world. It’s better if she keeps that in mind. Despite knowing that, she can’t help as her gaze is drawn to Zayne every time she thinks he’s busy elsewhere. He is so good looking it should be criminal. Why aren’t more men referred to as beautiful? It certainly applies to Zayne, Rafayel, Xavier, and even Sylus.

“How are you feeling?” Yvonne asks as she assists Zayne. Her cheerfulness filling the silence.

“Mostly better. Still really sore but otherwise miles better than this morning. It’s almost worth getting almost kidnapped.” Zayne coughs and shoots her an unreadable look but his brows are furrowed at her.

“Sorry, bad joke.” After an awkward silence Elly looks at Yvonne.

“How are you doing? Greyson said he were resting earlier. Everything okay?”

“Yes, just a little more excitement than I am used to. There’s a reason I am not an ER nurse.” Yvonne’s laugh is a little forced but no one mentions it.

“Since Zayne doesn’t need me to run this, would you like some tea?” Yvonne offers.

“Please. Anything decaf would be great.” Elly responds with a smile. When Yvonne returns she sips the mint tea slowly, the familiar flavor settling something inside her.

When they are finally done Zayne steps out for a few minutes while Yvonne removes the leads that she had attached. Once Elly is as decent as she can be in the hospital gown that has seen better days Yvonne leaves and Zayne returns with one of the crows in tow.

“Here, boss wanted me to give you this. Thought it might be more comfortable.” He hands her a bundle of clothes and turns to leave.

“Are you Luke or Kieran? You sound more like Luke, but it’s hard to tell without your brother to compare voices.” Elly stops him.

“Not bad, boss lady. Got it in one.” Instead of leaving he turns back and pulls a chair close to her.

“So, is it true you’re not really our Elly?” He asks, sounding intrigued.

“Yep, I’m not even from this world.”

“Wow, you look just like her.” Elly frowns at this. How is that possible? She did try to make MC look like herself but there was only so far she could go. It wasn’t even that close of a resemblance. Had something changed the way she looked?

“How do you think you got here? What technology do you have in your world?” Elly laughs. It’s such a Luke question.

“Actually, since I am behind you guys in the timeline and we don’t have protocores or Evols, you guys are definitely more technologically advanced. Besides, I’m not very techie.” She admits with chagrin. Luke’s disappointment is palpable even with the crow mask.

“Don’t worry, I am sure Sylus or Xavier is coming up with some high tech solution to send me back so their lives can go back to normal. I bet they would even let you help.” He gets up at that but she stops him.

“First can you show me where to shower and maybe take a nap?”

“Sure thing, boss lady.” He heads to the hall but Elly pauses.

“Thanks Zayne. You’ll let me know if it’s bad news?” He nods without looking up from the holoscreen where he is presumably reviewing her latest test results.

Tentatively she draws closer to Zayne.

“I’m sorry, Zayne. I know this is hard on you. On all of you.” 

“No. You don’t know how hard this is.” His voice is rough and cutting. Elly flinches and steps away as he continues to look at his holoscreen. She feels a tightness in her throat and blinks her eyes rapidly.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Elly turns and leaves without waiting for a response, swallowing back the tears that want to fall. She tells herself it’s better if he stays mad at her. Easier.

“Follow me, boss lady.”

“You don’t have to call me that you know. I’m not her. You can just call me Elly or Elinor if you want.”

“Sure thing, boss lady.” Luke chuckles to himself. Shaking her head, Elly follows him down several corridors and up a flight of stairs until he gestures her into an opulent room off an even more luxurious corridor. She has never seen anything so gorgeous outside a magazine or historical drama. For a moment she is overwhelmed by the sheer elegance of the room and stares dumbfounded at the soft lavender and creme furnishings and bedding. It is so unlike the depiction of Sylus’s estate in the game or even the rest of this estate. But it couldn’t be any more perfect if she had picked it out herself.

The bed calls to her like a siren song but she feels disgusting after everything she has endured. She finally spots a door off to her left and discovers an enormous en suite bathroom with a huge soaking tub and separate shower. It’s the mirror that draws her attention though. Because looking back at her is the same reflection she has been seeing her whole life. Granted she’s even more gaunt with darker circles under her eyes, but it is unmistakably her. How is it possible that they can’t see the difference? She is too tired to figure out the riddle right now, but it is yet another mystery to add to her growing collection.

As much as the thought of a long soak sounds amazing she doesn’t think she will be able to stay awake and instead opts for a quick shower before putting on the lounge wear she was given. Her head hits the pillow but sleep doesn’t come as quickly as she anticipates. She keeps going back to Zayne and the tension in his body and anger on his face. For a moment she allows herself to remember the feel of his hand on her face when he had dried her tears earlier that day. How soft his voice had sounded as he apologized for the pain she was in. The beauty of his eyes. The way they had looked at her as if she were something precious. A deep sadness wells up withing her. He deserves his MC. They all deserve their MC’s.

“I will find a way to get her back for you. No matter what it takes,” she murmurs as her eyes finally start to droop and she drops off to sleep.

Chapter Text

Sylus

“Have both vehicles been taken care of?” Sylus asks Kieran as they sit in the library-turned-study he has claimed as his workspace.

“Yes boss, I deployed the crews immediately. They cleared the area and removed the debris to the lower garage for review and analysis once it was checked for insidious.” Sylus determines he will go down shortly to see what can be found. First, he must finish the after-action report on the apprehension and subsequent interrogations. He pursues it for a moment and is surprised at the usefulness of the artist in apprehending the men.

As he continues to read he raises an eyebrow at Kieran's grudging praise of Rafayel’s skill during the interrogation as well. Looks like Sylus's instincts about the fish boy are on point. All three of the men are proving surprisingly useful. Good thing he hasn’t already eliminated them from Elly’s life. He begins to consider how best to utilize their abilities to help keep Elly safe since those lurking in the shadows are no longer content with remaining there. 

Since there are no solid leads or information, Sylus pulls up the footage the artist has been looking through and reviews it himself. It doesn’t take him long before he sees some discrepancies. Kieran mentioned he thinks Rafayel picked up on something during the interrogation and is confirming it. Sylus has some theories of his own and uses the new information to refine his searches. This dovetails nicely with them, but there’s no reason to show his hand just yet. He wants to see what the fish-boy can come up with on his own. A moment later Luke walks into the room.

“I left her in her room. Said she needed a shower.” Sylus nods. Her room is just down the hall from the study and next to his room. Safer to keep her close. He has her surrounded by the hunter, the artist, the doctor, and his men as well. Layers upon layers of security. He made a mistake at the hospital by not doing so that he won’t repeat. Mephisto is permanently assigned to her as well. He goes back to his notes but Luke doesn’t move.

“Is there something more?” Sylus asks with a raised eyebrow.

“You said there is no way for her to return, right?” Luke asks, tentatively.

“Not at this time, no. We don’t have enough information on what created the portal or how to recreate it.” Sylus slides his holoscreen to the side and turns to look at the other man. Luke is shifting his weight back and forth slightly.

“Why?” Sylus' eyes narrow as he asks.

“Nothing specific. I just get the impression she doesn’t think she’ll be here long.” Pain lances through Sylus at the thought of Elly wanting or needing to leave him but pushes it down like always. Luke doesn’t quite meet his eyes so Sylus knows there’s more but has learned to trust the other man’s judgment. If there is something he needs to know, Luke will tell him. That way Elly learns to trust Luke and Kieran as Eliwyn had. More tools for her arsenal and more ways for Sylus to keep her safe. He decides to check in with Mephisto later, just to be safe, however. He nods to Luke who leaves the room, Kieran close behind.

Going back to his holoscreen, he checks in on the hunter. Xavier is being careful not to use the holo system in his room. Unfortunately for him, that isn’t the only way for Sylus to access information, and he easily finds a repository the hunter is trying to hide and begins the process to hack and decrypt it. It’s a pretty hands-off process given the tools he has created, so once he has the process running he sets it aside. 

A quick check on the doctor shows him still in the hospital, head in his hands on one of the desks. The doctor jerks upright and after pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment gets back to work. Although Sylus appreciates Dr. Li’s dedication, if he doesn’t get some rest he will begin to lose cognition and miss something. That would be unacceptable. If Dr. Li doesn’t rest soon, Sylus will speak with him.

With all of his processes running and nothing specific he needs to be doing, there’s a restlessness in Sylus that forces him out of his chair. He stalks out of the room and down the hall. He’s about to head to the lower garage when he passes Elly’s room and hears rustling and a quiet cry and stops cold. Without a thought he opens the door, ready to deal with whatever situation has arisen, but the room appears empty other than Elly’s sleeping form in her bed. Sylus confirms Mephisto is stationed in a corner at the top of her wardrobe. 

His mistake leaving her without extra security at the hospital almost cost him everything and he’s not willing to repeat it. From now on Mephisto will be with her always, whether she approves or not. Although so far Elinor is proving to be more amenable to security than Eliwyn was. Perhaps it is due to her lack of training. Something else he will need to see is rectified immediately. He will do his best to ensure she is never placed in a position that requires her to defend herself, but he always prepares for every scenario. Besides, he doubts she will be satisfied with allowing others to always protect her at their own expense.

Although security or Mephisto would have alerted him if there was danger, he can't stop himself from entering completely and closing the door behind him. He makes a silent circuit of the room to make sure it is clear of any danger. That’s when movement on the bed draws his eyes. Elly is tossing and turning in her sleep. At first he doesn’t think anything of it until she whimpers slightly, then a moan of fear escapes her lips and Sylus can’t help but go to her.  Her hair is slicked to her forehead with sweat and she is shaking her head with a moaning cry in the back of her throat. Sylus feels at a loss. He wants to comfort her but doesn’t know how. It has been centuries since he has needed to comfort someone. Tentatively he reaches out, smoothing the damp hair off her forehead. She quiets slightly and the crease between her eyes disappears. Gaining a little confidence, he brushes his hand down her cheek. 

“I’m here.” He whispers a little fearfully, not certain if knowing he is near will make things worse. He is rewarded when she turns into his hand so he is cupping the side of her face. He breathes a sigh of relief. Since she is no longer making the strangled noise in the back of her throat, he caresses her cheek a final time and turns toward the door, but when she immediately begins to make those pained noises again he is drawn back. Unable to leave her like that. 

Carefully he sits on the edge of the bed and once more brushes his fingers against her face.

“Shh. I’m here. I’ll protect you.” He whispers and she quiets. The lines on her face smooth out, but she drowsily opens her eyes.

“Sylus?” Elly asks, voice heavy with sleep.

“Yes, kitten?” Sylus keeps his voice low so he doesn’t wake her further.

“What’s wrong?” She blinks up at him blearily.

“You were having a nightmare.”

“How long have I been asleep?” she mumbles, eyes blinking tiredly.

“Not long. Go back to sleep, you need more rest.” He moves to stand but she reaches for his hand.

“Stay?” There is a look of such trust in her heavily lidded eyes that his heart squeezes in his chest. Unable to speak around the lump in his throat, he nods his head. She shifts slightly as he lays down, drawing her into his arms until her head rests on his chest. To have this further proof of her trust is an unexpected blessing. He has been hoping to regain Eliwyn’s trust for months now. Only to have Elinor, after only being awake for a single day, trust him so implicitly, so automatically, that she resonates with him as easily as breathing.

The memory of that moment washes over him once more. Both the terror of almost losing her and the elation as their souls connected fully once more. Although he could always feel the other half of his soul in Eliwyn, it was a strange connection with an odd echo, almost like trying to hear a radio station set to the wrong frequency. He had assumed that it was because her resonance rejected him, and once they resonated, it would fix it. Apparently he was correct because the connection is as strong and clear as it's ever been. 

In wonder, he brushes her hair back and then trails his fingers down her cheek to her jaw. She turns into the caress, nuzzling against his palm. As her breathing evens out she relaxes back into a dreamless sleep. He stays much longer than he should. He can barely tear himself away to attend to business. Only once she has reached a deep level of sleep and is no longer in REM does he finally force himself to leave her side and head down to the lower garage to see if anything of note was recovered from the wreckage of either vehicle.

A thorough inspection of the two military-grade vehicles and the kidnapper's van provides additional insight. In person, the discrepancy between the vehicles is obvious. The two SUVs are state of the art with enhanced protocore engines and increased speed. There isn’t much more that can be gleaned from the debris left behind, however. No insignia or other calling cards. That alone discounts most of the players in the N109 zone. When they do something, they want you to know it is them. Both as a warning and scare tactic. Sylus prefers to keep things more elusive but to each their own.

Sylus locates every piece of electronics. He takes a special device he created and sets them inside one at a time. The device pulls out every bit of information from any technology available. It was made before arriving on Earth, so the technology is far advanced from what is currently available here. There might be something overlooked in the information that they didn’t think to erase or eliminate. He is unsurprised to find that every bit of it is encrypted.

Finally, he checks his system and notes that it is taking longer to hack the hunter’s information than he anticipated. Since there is nothing more to be done at this time, he decides to rest while he can. He didn’t allow himself to rest after the Evol storm so it has been over twenty-four hours since he last slept. He returns to the residence wing and has a thought. A quick call to his security team is all it takes to have two of his men stationed outside the residential wing.

He pauses before Elly’s door and makes sure she is still sleeping soundly before retiring to his room and taking a quick shower. While in the shower he allows his thoughts to return to the night Eliwyn won their bet and found the crow brooch. So much has happened since that bombshell that he hasn’t had a chance to wonder how a story that Elly wrote in her world was able to influence the events in his. Once he is done, he adds some additional search parameters to his various programs before laying back down. He is still puzzling over it as he slips into a deep slumber.

***

Elinor

Elly awakes slowly with a hollow feeling in her stomach and is thankful to realize she hasn’t woken up back in her bed or a Cleveland hospital. She groans and berates herself. She shouldn’t be grateful to still be here in this dangerous world with its dangerous and sexy men. She lies in wonder at the memory of waking from a nightmare and being held by Sylus until she fell back asleep. It is a luxury she hasn’t been granted since long before her mom died. Because of the progressive nature of her mom’s genetic heart condition, she was sick for several years before she finally succumbed. Despite almost daily nightmares, Elly had stopped going to her mom when they eventually woke her so she didn’t disturb what little rest her mom was able to get.

She rolls over and contemplates going back to sleep since she is sure it hasn’t been more than an hour or two, but her stomach won’t let her. Besides, she rarely slept more than five to six hours in a row before all this started due to her work schedule. Finally giving up, she rolls to the edge of the bed and heads to the en suite bathroom. Locating the brush that she was too tired to use last night, or is it morning? She runs it through her hair trying to work through the tangles that have only gotten worse as she slept. While she does that, she explores the rest of the bathroom, which only holds some toiletries and cosmetics. Most are brands she has never heard of, so she ignores them. She hasn’t had much cause to use them in the last several years anyway.

Once her hair is free of snarls, she leaves the brush on the counter and prowls through the room. There are no exterior windows and she breathes a sigh of relief. It may be a while before she learns to trust windows or hospitals again. The room is expansive but relatively empty. There is a dresser and wardrobe. As she draws closer to the wardrobe she sees something flash red up in the shadows above it and feels her heart stop for a moment before making out the silhouette of a head and beak.

“Mephisto?” 

“Caw!” She grins to herself. Instead of sounding like a real crow, he sounds exactly like he does in the game, and she wonders if that was Sylus’s idea of a joke when he built him. Without stopping to think, she holds her hand up for him to land on and he jumps off the wardrobe and glides down to her. She pets him the way she always wanted to when she played the game. She never liked how MC treated him. It was wrong of MC to take her frustration with Sylus out on Mephisto. That's partly why she changed MC's interaction in the fanfic she wrote. His feathers feel surprisingly real and Elly scratches his head and neck when he stretches his neck out to her and makes an almost cooing noise while she loves on him. She can’t help but grin.

It doesn’t take Elly long to find a change of clothes and undergarments in the dresser and she quickly changes out of the loungewear. It is fine to sleep in, but makes her feel too much like an invalid to wear during her waking hours. The slacks she finds are soft and surprisingly comfortable, and the sweater is so luxurious she could snuggle it all day. There is also a pair of comfy slippers and socks that coordinate with them. She happily dons them before turning back to Mephisto who has been watching all this from the top of the dresser. Her stomach cramps and then growls loudly.

“Can you help me find the kitchen, Mephisto? I’m starving.” 

“Caw, caw!” He hops on her shoulder and they leave the room together. There are a couple of burly security men at the end of the hall. Luckily, her anxiety medication seems to still be working, but she still passes them as quickly as she can without saying a word.

It takes a little for her to work out Mephisto's directions since he refuses to leave her shoulder rather than flying ahead, but eventually she figures out when to turn left or right and when to go straight. The kitchen he leads her to is smaller and cozier than she expects. After rummaging in the cupboards for a few minutes, she realizes she has the ingredients for an omelet. Grinning, she gathers everything by the stove and chops and prepares everything then puts the unused veggies back in the fridge before beginning to cook. Omelets are pretty quick once you start them, so it is best to have everything ready to go. The veggies are sautéing when she hears footsteps and turns to see who it is. Her smile falters slightly but she manages to hang onto it.

“Good morning Zayne. Would you like an omelet? I have enough veggies for two.” 

“Can I assist?” His voice is stern like it was at the beginning of the game, and it saddens Elly, but she tries to ignore it.

“No, I have it under control.” She hums slightly as she continues stirring the veggies. She glances over. His eyes look red and his face is even more drawn than earlier.

“Wow, you look terrible. Did you get any sleep at all?” Since the veggies are almost done Elly quickly adds more eggs to the bowl and whisks them together. It will be easier to make one big one.

“No.” He pauses like he will say more, then seems to think better of it. Elly snorts and adds the eggs to the pan.

“For someone who always tells MC to get more sleep, you are terrible at taking your own advice. Feta?” She asks. His eyes have drifted closed and she wonders momentarily if he has fallen asleep.

“Thank you, yes.” He doesn’t open his eyes. Maybe he is resting them. They are pretty red. Once everything is cooked, she folds it all together neatly before turning it out onto a plate, cutting the omelet in two, and sliding half onto another plate before setting the first one in front of Zayne. Before it has a chance to cool, she takes the pan to the sink and washes it before putting it in the rack.

“Zayne, breakfast is ready. Zayne?” He doesn’t move and Elly realizes his breathing has evened out. He must have fallen asleep sitting up. She bets he has slept just like this at his desk at Akso any number of times. Tentatively she reaches out and lays her hand on his shoulder. He doesn’t respond so she runs her hand down his arm and back. Through his lab coat and shirt, she can feel how nicely defined his arm muscles are.

“Zayne? It’s ready.” He opens his eyes and reaches over with his other hand to squeeze hers gently, then freezes mid-squeeze and drops her hand like it burned him. Elly swallows around a lump in her throat and blinks her eyes against a sudden burning sensation.

“Sorry, I was just trying to wake you.” She is grateful her voice sounds almost normal and she tries to eat, but the food sticks in her throat before she forces it down, then it sits in her stomach like a lead weight. They sit in silence for several minutes. Zayne methodically eats the omelet while she pushes hers around her plate with her fork, her appetite gone. Finally, she feeds a few bites to Mephisto before getting up and tossing the rest, then rinsing her plate. She leaves the room without looking back. She hears Zayne calling after her, but she speeds up. Mephisto caws behind her, caught off guard by her sudden departure. After a moment he lands awkwardly on her shoulder. Elly is a wash in emotions and finds herself gasping for breath, fighting back the tears.

“This is what you want. It’s better this way.” She tells herself as she dashes away the couple of tears that leaked out before she could stop them. Mephisto nuzzles into her neck under her hair. Despite her distress, she unerringly makes her way back the way she originally came. Those long months of winding her way through labyrinthine hospital corridors came in handy. Turning a corner, she hears footsteps heading towards her and Zayne’s voice. She reaches the intersection with the guards and holds her finger up to her lips, hoping they won’t say anything about where she is. Then she ducks into the first door she sees and locks it. Mephisto, apparently unhappy with her rapid change in direction, hops off her shoulder and into the room behind her but remains silent. She listens intently to make sure whoever it is continues past.

“What are we hiding from?” Someone whispers into her ear, so close the feeling of their hot breath sends a shiver through her along with a jolt of fear and adrenaline. Elly opens her mouth involuntarily to yelp but a hand quickly covers it.

“It’s okay Starlight, it’s just me,” Xavier whispers, holding her closely in one arm as he slowly lowers the hand covering her mouth. Elly sags against him in relief for a moment before trying to step back but he continues to hold her.

“What did you think you were doing? You nearly scared me to death!” She whisper-yells at him. He raises his eyebrows and she can see him fighting back a smile as he shrugs.

“It looked like you didn’t want anyone to hear you. What else should I have done?” This time the smile manages to emerge and Xavier looks impishly at her. Elly wants to both clobber him and pinch his cheeks. He is too adorable for words.

“It’s probably safe. I should go back to my room and try to get some more rest.” Elly places her hand on the doorknob but Xavier places his on top of hers, stopping her.

“Don’t go. Please. I promise to behave.” The smile has melted off his face and it is replaced by a look of loneliness that tugs at her heart.

“That isn’t a good idea.” The words leave her mouth almost mechanically but she doesn’t make any move to open the door.

“Why not?” Behind the earnest yearning in Xavier’s voice, there is a thread of something she can’t place.

“You know why.” Her whisper has gotten quieter until it is barely discernible.

“No, I don’t. Why do you think it’s a bad idea, Elly?” There is a note of resolve in his voice now. She realizes he’s not going to let her go unless she spells it out for him and her heart sinks.

“Because I’m not her.” It hurts to say the words but she imbues them with all her conviction.

“What makes you think I want you to be her?” His eyes are completely serious as they meet hers.

“Because you call me Starlight.” She loves the nickname so much but it's also painful because she knows she will never be his guiding starlight.

“I never once called Eliwyn Starlight.” Elly frowns for a moment. Is that true? She thinks back and she can’t remember him ever calling MC that in the game. She shakes her head.

“Okay. But you did call the Queen MC your guiding starlight and you think Eliwyn is an incarnation of her.”

“How do you know about that?” Xavier looks taken aback and Elly blushes as she remembers how many times she went through his myth and anecdotes, despite how they tore her heart out every time. Of how much she loves the idea of someone who loves you so much they not only vow to find you again but actually succeed. She dreams of finding a love like that. She hopes Xavier doesn’t notice her blush.

“It’s part of your myth memories in the game.” When he still looks confused, she continues. “They released what they called Myths for each of you. So far they have released two for you, Zayne, & Rafayel, but only one for Sylus since he is too new.” Xavier nods at her to continue.

“For you, it is about the time you were the Hunter consultant on the Lumiere movie set and also your time at Astria Knight Academy right before you made your love become Queen and came to earth to try to save her.” She watches him try to process this and decides not to mention that it is implied that Queen MC disappeared right after that. If he doesn’t know, there is no reason to upset him. After a moment, he comes to some sort of decision but she’s not sure about what.

“If I promise not to call you that, will you stay?” There is a pleading note to his voice now and as much as she wants to say no, Elly finds herself beginning to relent.

“It’s the least you can do after Sylus got the first kiss.” He adds with a sly look, and Elly laughs and blushes at the same time.

“Sylus did not get the first kiss.” She corrects, bopping him on the nose with her finger. “You did, in my hospital room.”

“That wasn’t a kiss.” His voice drops lower and his eyes darken slightly making Elly’s breath catch. With his hands, he lightly strokes up and down her arms making her skin tingle.

“Oh really? What was it then?” Trying for a teasing tone, instead her voice sounds breathless. Xavier moves impossibly closer to her until she is pressed against the wall.

“A promise.” He is so close that his lips brush hers as he utters these words and her mouth opens on a gasp. She holds her breath, both fearful and hopeful of where this is going. She knows she should stop it before it goes any further and gathers her willpower, but before she can, there’s a knock at the door. Startled, she yelps but Xavier’s hand is already covering her mouth so no sound comes out.

“Elly? Are you in there?” Zayne’s voice sounds stiff.

“Do you want to talk to him?” Xavier moves impossibly closer until his lips are only millimeters from her ear as he whispers. She shakes her head, no. 

“Come snuggle with me while I read to you then?” He kisses her nose then steps back and gives her an innocent smile that is so hopeful she can’t bear to say no.

“Only reading,” she leans in to whisper before letting him lead her to the bed. He makes them a nest of pillows and covers them with a blanket. Once they are comfortable, her head next to him, he begins reading aloud but quietly from a book on his bedside table. It’s something she has never heard of. She asks what it's about and discovers it's a fantasy novel. Intrigued, she asks what other books he has read and they discuss their favorite books for a while until her eyes begin to drift closed.

She looks up at him through her fluttering lashes and there is a look of utter contentment on his face. Then her brows crease and her eyes widen suddenly as she remembers the question she had after her shower.

“Xavier, why haven’t any of you mentioned how different I look?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I tried to make Eliwyn look as much like me as the game allows but she still looks really different.” Xavier looks at her confused before pulling out his phone. After a few moments, he hands it to her. On the screen is a picture of her and Xavier together in front of a gorgeous flowering tree. Chills run down Elly’s spine. She knows this picture. She took it of Eliwyn and Xavier using the Glint Photobooth right after going through the memory on campus with the blossom walk because she wanted to recreate it for her character. Only the picture isn’t of Eliwyn, how she looked in the game. She looks identical to Elly.

“How is this possible?” She whispers, beginning to shake.

“I don’t know, but I will figure it out.” Xavier wraps his arms around her and holds her tightly until the shaking stops.

“Can you read to me now?” She asks as she begins to relax and exhaustion sets back in.

 He places a kiss on her temple before setting his phone to the side and picking his book where he left off without missing a beat. As she drifts off to sleep she wonders how Xavier could look so innocent but be so dangerous. And yet, she feels completely safe in his arms.

Chapter Text

Elinor

The sound of an electronic alert stirs Elly awake and she feels something shift underneath her. Cracking open her eyes she finds herself cradled tightly against Xavier’s chest, her head resting on it like a pillow as he fumbles groggily for his phone with one hand. His other arm is wrapped around her, holding her to him. 

“Hello.” Elly tries to sit up but the arm around her tightens. He leaves the phone and rolls back into her until she is entirely encircled in his arms.

“Hello.” Xavier smiles down at her then kisses her forehead. Yellow light from a small lamp beside the bed gives his silver hair a golden hue and illuminates his flawless skin and aristocratic features. She meets his eyes and marvels at the depth of the blue that seems to go on forever, like she can see eternities in them. The lighter almost silvery blue at the innermost circle around his pupil radiates outward, darkening toward the outer edge where it deepens into midnight. They shine with an inner light that makes her heart skip a beat.

“Did you get a good nap?” he asks quietly, hugging her and holding her for a moment as she relaxes into his embrace.

“Surprisingly, yes.” She snuggles into him more, smiling up into his beautiful eyes.

“Why surprising? I think I should take that as an insult.” The light teasing tone is one she hasn’t heard from him except in the game and it warms her heart.

“Trust me it’s not you. I just always have nightmares. I normally wake up more tired than when I went to sleep.” He frowns, not looking at her, and she can tell he has gone away inside his head somewhere for a moment. Then his focus returns to her.

“How long have you been having nightmares?” Xavier asks quizzically as one of his hands absently strokes Elly’s hair. She practically purrs at the touch.

“Since I was a child. According to my mom, I’ve always had them. She even took me to sleep doctors to make sure it wasn’t related to a medical condition.” He smiles empathetically at her before his expression turns serious.

“Elly, I need to tell you something.” Anxiety sparks within Elly at the serious look in his eyes, but she nods at him to continue, bracing herself. She should not have allowed herself to feel so relaxed and comfortable.

“I know you are not Eliwyn,” he begins, “but I feel a connection to you and I think you feel one too.” Xavier pauses for a moment waiting for her and Elly reluctantly nods. There’s no point in denying it. No matter how hard she tries to stop herself, she can’t help feeling drawn to Xavier. To all of them. Seeing her nod, he continues. 

“I haven’t figured out what that connection is yet, but I will. If I promise not to push, will you promise not to pull away from me?” Elly blinks in surprise and meets his eyes. There is so much warmth and sincerity in them that it gives her a buoyant feeling. She can still see an echo of the loneliness that he had in the game, however, and a thread of something else that she can’t decipher. The loneliness tugs at her heart. That was her until recently and she will probably be back there again soon. It was only her connection through the game to Xavier and the others that has helped her carry on these last few months. She can’t imagine having to go through losing the one you love most and having to carry on completely alone for centuries. How can she say no? Seeing a glimmer of hope in his eyes. She doesn’t have the heart to.

“I promise, I will try not to pull away.” She smiles shyly at him and he leans forward and nuzzles her nose with his for a moment before his soft warm lips meet hers in a brief caress. He pulls back and rests his forehead against hers. Warmth spreads slowly through her like starlight.

“What happened to not pushing?” She asks breathlessly. Her heart gallops in her chest.

“That wasn’t a push, that was a promise.” He smiles slyly before releasing her enough to grab his phone. It gives Elly time to bring her heart rate and breathing down.

“I need to get a new phone. If for nothing else, at least so I don’t have to walk all over this compound if I need anything.” Elly jokes.

“Just say my name where there’s light and I’ll hear you.” He says almost absently, brow furrowing as he reads something on his phone.

“Trouble?”

“I don’t know. I have to go check on something. I’ll be right back, I promise.” He gives her another quick kiss and a cheeky smile before releasing her with a groan. This time the giddiness in her chest bubbles up as laughter and she giggles and shakes her head at him. He is incorrigible.

“Rest some more. I’ll be back in a little bit.” Xavier’s eyes sparkle at her as he flashes an unrepentant grin and is gone in a flash of light.

Zayne

Zayne walks down the corridor where they have all been assigned rooms. He can only hope his normal calm facade is still in place. There was no response to repeated knocks to Elly’s door and the room she most likely ducked into to avoid him. Not that he blames her. The moment she left the kitchenette, he realized his mistake, but try as he might he couldn’t find her. 

Even after his abominable behavior in the clinic, she still made him a delicious and surprisingly healthy breakfast, and how does he repay her? By hurting her feelings. Again. He swallows a growl as his final attempt goes unanswered. Giving up, he contemplates getting some rest himself but he realizes he won’t be able to sleep. Not with the ache in his chest. Or the nightmares. Lately they have morphed into a new form. He’s in a dark dreary version of Akso with Elly back on the surgical table. As he tries desperately to save her. As soon as he thinks he has, she dissipates into thin air. Like a wanderer. He can do nothing but watch as Elly disappears before his eyes. Over and over again. Better just to stay awake. In defeat he heads back to the clinic wing.

Entering, Zayne pauses a moment at the door, his eyes going to the exam table and the memory of the tableau when he entered last. His fists clench and he closes his eyes and breathes in deeply through his nose for a moment, then forces himself to continue into the room. That doesn’t stop the scene from replaying in his mind, however. Just the thought of the wonder on Elly’s face as she leaned toward the artist makes the area behind Zayne’s solar plexus ache worse and a burning begins in his stomach. Perhaps he has developed severe acid reflux or even pancreatitis. He adds some tests to his mental to-do list. As his jaw creaks and his teeth grind he adds one for TMJ as well.

He tries to brush away the memory of retreating to the hall before he is seen by Elly, and waiting for Yvonne before attempting to enter once more. When the artist left the clinic only moments later with a self-satisfied smile and a knowing look, Zayne knew he had been fully aware of Zayne’s presence. For the first time that he can remember, Zayne wanted nothing more than to wipe the smug look off the artist's face. It took all of his control to hold himself still. Somehow Zayne has a feeling the artist knew that as well but the other man did not say anything. He just continued down the hall humming to himself.

Reaching the desk he has chosen as his own, Zayne sits down. Hoping for a distraction and perhaps an answer to some of the questions that plague him, he pours over Elly’s medical records once more, but his mind won’t stay on his work. When Eliwyn reentered Zayne’s life months before, her exuberance and childlike enthusiasm eroded the walls he had erected around his heart, but he was able to hold himself back a little. Maintain control and move slowly, content as their friendship slowly deepened over time into what he is sure was becoming something more. 

Everything changed, however, the night they rescued Elly. He was desperate to save Elinor on the operating table after she was attacked. When her heart stopped beating, he felt like his would as well. Holding the defibrillator paddles to her chest and waiting the few seconds for the machine to tell him if it worked were the longest of his life. It is the first time he has prayed to the gods since he was twelve. He doesn’t know if it was thinking that it was Eliwyn he was fighting for, or if there is something about Elly herself that pulls him to her.

Since that night, his legendary control that has helped him achieve so much at such a young age has been eroding at an accelerated rate. At first he tried to ignore it. Then when he woke earlier today, or was it yesterday, to discover Elly had almost been kidnapped while he was sleeping. It felt like his nightmare come to life. He failed her. The last of it had shattered. He now feels a constant compulsion to be near her. As if his presence will somehow prevent her from coming to any harm. It is not fair to her and he is trying so hard to accede to her desire for distance, but it feels like a constant internal battle within him. Her pull is magnetic and it is becoming increasingly difficult to maintain his distance. Every time he is near her, or touches her, it only worsens.

Zayne has never reacted to another human being this way. Even Eliwyn. Despite knowing she puts her life on the line as a Deepspace Hunter, it does not evoke such a strong reaction. Come to think of it, why isn’t he more worried that she is still missing? Zayne stops frozen at that thought. Of course, the Hunter’s Association and her other friends aren’t worried because they think Elinor is Eliwyn. But he knows, and has accepted both intellectually and emotionally, that she is not Eliwyn. He can see the differences in her personality and mannerisms.

He searches through his tumultuous feelings. Focuses on the fact that Eliwyn has been missing for six weeks at this point and waits for the alarm, or longing, or fear to rise. But he feels nothing. Zayne thinks back to all of his memories of her and although they are still there and colored with the fondness of nostalgia, no other emotions surface. Complete dissociation. None of this makes any analytical sense. He is not suffering a catastrophic brain injury so why is he displaying symptoms of dissociative amnesia? Is it a side effect of the neurotoxin? Except, this started before the neurotoxin. It started the night they rescued Elly.

Zayne wracks his brain for a scientific reason. A cause for his emotional instability and dissociation. His desire for Elinor is becoming harder to ignore, almost primal, and he no longer recognizes himself. There must be something about Elinor’s physiology or Evol that differs from Eliwyn’s. That has affected him somehow. Nothing else makes sense. 

Once more he pushes as much of his roiling emotions into a box that is no longer big enough to hold them as he can. Once he is back under some semblance of control, he pulls back up her digital medical records and recent test results. Searching the data for the missing piece of the puzzle. After the Evol storm, Zayne completed all new tests for everything he could think of, including things he had not thought of or had time to test when she was at Akso. Anything to explain why her Evol is acting differently than Eliwyn’s. And, anything to explain the changes in himself. Then he pulls up her comprehensive medical history, which she filled out. Everything she could remember from her past. Turns out it was quite a lot.

Quickly losing himself in the minutia, he begins noting small discrepancies and differences. Subtle changes in results here and there that would normally be explained away by regular test variation. Then he spots something on her most recent Evol test that he has not looked at yet that provides the first big puzzle pieces. At Akso he tested the stability of her Evol against her most recent records, but had not thought to check the strength. He had checked her heart health, but once he ascertained it was stable and consistent with Eliwyn’s most recent results, it didn’t occur to him to confirm if there had been a change to the aether core itself. 

After Elly had told him she was not Eliwyn, he had planned to run additional tests, including these, but first got called to the impromptu meeting by Xavier, then fell asleep in his office. Or to be more accurately, was drugged. Some results, while only slightly different, paint a unique picture, while others are completely different. There is no aethercore in her heart. It is non-existent. If he had any remaining doubts about Elly’s story, this information would have removed them completely.

After he finishes with the Linkon records, old and new, he begins reviewing her comprehensive medical history. He reads through several pages worth of medical history for her mother’s heart condition, decline, and failed transplant. As he flips to the next page, it starts back at her childhood. Confused, he reads through it, surprised that the early details are surprisingly robust. Not something he would expect a child, even an intelligent one, to know about their parent’s early years. 

Then he sees a date and his brain stumbles to a halt and his heart starts pounding. Double checking the last few pages that he thought were duplicates, he realizes they are not. They are Elinor’s personal history, not her mom’s. He compares the two and a terrifying pattern emerges. Combined with the small changes and discrepancies in her most recent results, he sees a pattern. It feels like some great beast wraps its claws around his heart and starts squeezing. He quickly sends his findings to Greyson and pings him to make sure he is awake to review them. He receives an immediate ping in response indicating Greyson is reviewing them.

Unable to sit still any longer, Zayne stands and begins pacing. When the holoscreen pings, he quickly returns and reads through Dr. Greyson’s findings and his heart sinks. He immediately sends a message using the new phone Sylus provided to the group chat with the other men. The chat had already been named Elly’s Aegis and he had left it, feeling it was accurate.

We have a problem. Meet me in the medical ward .

Three immediate responses. Sylus is the first to arrive in a flurry of black and red mist. Rafayel saunters in shortly afterward.

“Some people just have to show off. Next time, offer a fishie a ride, yeah?” He pouts and Sylus returns his look with a smirk. Finally, several minutes later Xavier enters slowly, rubbing his eyes.

“Sorry, I was asleep,” Xavier says as he enters, stifling a yawn. Sylus narrows his eyes at Xavier but does not say anything, so Zayne begins.

“I have been reviewing Elly’s medical records. Partly to find a cause of the Evol storm that nearly incapacitated three of us earlier.” At this sentence, Rafayel’s eyebrows shoot up and Zayne feels a moment of triumph that he is out of the loop. Elly must not have mentioned it when they spoke. 

“The other reason is because of some questions that have arisen," Zayne explains his uneasiness regarding his lack of concern for Eliwyn’s continued absence. He chooses not to go into details regarding his feelings toward Elly. They do not pertain to the issue. He notes the looks of surprise and then confusion as each man takes in the information and watches as they reach similar conclusions.

“I haven’t thought about that aspect of it but you have a point. I have only been looking into possible explanations of why Eliwyn disappears when Elly doesn’t interact with the game, and if there is a specific timeframe that triggers it.” Xavier says, brows furrowed and deep in thought. All sleepiness gone from his demeanor as if it was never there.

“It isn’t one-way either,” Sylus adds thoughtfully.

“What isn’t one way?” Rafayel seems to be following the change in conversation remarkably well. Zayne needs to reel them back to the original topic. His patience is growing thin and the clawing feeling in his chest is increasing. But Sylus continues before he has a chance.

“Elly, Elinor that is, wasn’t just getting information of our world through the game, she was directly affecting it even when not playing.” 

“How?” Xavier prompts. Zayne tamps down his impatience. This might be important, even if unrelated to his current concerns.

“For starters, Eliwyn’s name is one Elinor uses in her world, and has since she was a child. I also found out right before the attempted abduction that one of the events in the N109 zone didn’t happen here the way it did in the game. Elly already knew what had changed though, because she had written it that way in a story.”

“Wait,” Xavier interrupts. “Did the event change, or did Eliwyn’s actions change? Also, how did she write the story?” 

“I don’t know. She didn’t go into detail,” Sylus replies after a moment's thought.

“That is good to know, however, it isn’t why I called you here.” Zayne’s voice deepens slightly in frustration as he tries to redirect them to the pertinent topic. “Disquieting as it is, the more important issue is what I have found in the medical records and test results. The strength of Elly’s Evol is double what Eliwyn’s tested at last.” Zayne takes a breath, trying to maintain his equanimity but he feels stretched too tight and knows his professional demeanor is slipping.

“That’s good news, right? Doesn’t that explain why her anxiety affected us so badly?” Xavier said curiously.

“It will require additional testing, but yes. That is likely the cause of the Evol storm. If that were all, I wouldn’t have called you all in here. Elinor filled out a comprehensive medical history on both herself and her mother. Her mother was diagnosed with an old heart condition called idiopathic cardiomyopathy and died several months ago of heart failure after an unsuccessful transplant.” The ache and clawing in his chest is increasing exponentially the closer he comes to verbalizing it aloud.

“Elly told me about her mother’s death. How does that affect us?” The impatience in Sylus’s voice is unmistakable and something within Zayne snaps.

“It affects us because Elly is dying!” Without realizing, Zayne’s voice grows louder until he is yelling. He takes a breath, trying to calm his riotous emotions. The clawing in his chest is out of control and Zayne finds it hard to draw breath. He is shocked to realize he is standing with fists clenched, seconds away from violence, but against who or what he isn’t sure. He looks around at the other men and is unsurprised to find shock on their ashen faces. He tries to unclench his hands and retreat behind his professional mask but is unsuccessful.

“Idiopathic cardiomyopathy can be a genetic disorder. Elly was diagnosed with it at a very young age and wasn’t expected to survive a year. Somehow they managed to stabilize her heart around the time her mothers started acting up. Since then, with proper treatment, diet, and exercise, Elly has been able to lead a relatively normal life even as her mother’s health has declined.”

“Thought to be?” Sylus asks.

“Cardiac science has advanced in the last few decades. It was determined that one form of idiopathic cardiomyopathy is a condition that we now know as protocore syndrome. Based on her latest results, Elly’s is no longer stable.”

“What changed?” Xavier’s voice is almost nonexistent.

“I don’t have any definitive answers but if I had to theorize, her heart may be reacting to the strength of her Evol. Or it could be because she doesn’t have an aethercore to stabilize her protocore syndrome. Or it could be neither or both. At this point it is all conjecture.”

“How long?” Sylus' voice is flat, almost emotionless, but the despair in his eyes matches Zayne’s own.

“I don’t know. At the current rate of deterioration it could be as little as six months or as much as several years. If you are willing to resonate with her regularly, we can extend it. But likely, not indefinitely.” Zayne slumps back into a chair as his attempt at professional detachment crumbles.

“Is this our fault? Did we cause this by bringing her here?” Rafayel’s voice breaks and there is a stricken look on his face as his eyes meet Zayne.

“I can’t answer that. Had we not, however, she would have died of her injuries that night.” Zayne responds honestly.

“Why didn’t we catch this earlier?” Zayne doesn’t know if there is actual accusation in Sylus’s voice or if he is hearing it due to his feelings of guilt, but he merely shakes his head.

“When we brought her to Akso I tested her heart and the results were consistent with someone who had had a transapical Metaflux ablation in the last six months, so I didn’t question the results. I never got a chance to request new tests once Elly told us her identity.”

“What can we do, Zayne?” Sylus asks, a pleading note breaking through.

“If we can find Eliwyn, we might be able to siphon some of the excess power to her since they are genetically identical. Any familial match might work, but she is the only one I am aware of on this world. Barring that, I don’t know.”

Elinor

Elly stretches, the warmth left by Xavier’s “promises” dims but doesn’t fully dissipate. Neither does the feel of his lips against hers. Any more of those promises and she feels like she might combust. How is it that an innocent little kiss can affect her so much that just the thought of getting another one from him fills her with sparkles? Then what she promised finally hits her and she rolls into a pillow to hide her face and groan. Unfortunately, that is not at all helpful because the pillow smells of Xavier. She definitely isn’t falling back asleep now. 

For the first time since awakening in this world, Elly feels alert and alive. It is time to tackle the big questions. Why was there a kidnapping attempt and by who? She has an idea and it would explain Zayne’s involvement but she wants to run it by the others. Also, how did she arrive here? She knows they tried to explain a little bit about how she arrived but she was freaking out too much to retain any of it. Another important question: how are they getting her home so they can get their MC back and undo the mess that has become of their timelines? Can they even be untangled at this point? Hopefully one of the others will have more information or ideas on that front because she has zero. She tells herself her heart rate increase is at the thought of everything that she needs to do, and not the thought of leaving. How on earth does MC deal with all the stress?

First however, given her spike of anxiety earlier and her rising heart rate, she needs to check and see when her next dose of anxiety medication is due. She can’t have another flare or Evol storm as Zayne terms it. It’s too incapacitating for those around her.

That settled, Elly heads toward the door. She remembers Mephisto when she hears a flurry of wings.

“Hello, Mephi.” She holds out her arm for him and he lands and quickly makes his way to her shoulder. She laughs when he begins to run his beak through her hair.

“That tickles,” she giggles but Mephisto doesn’t stop so she lets him continue to preen her. She didn’t even know mechanical crows needed to preen. In response she reaches up and slowly brings her finger toward his neck. When Mephisto tilts his head to indicate approval, she scratches around his neck carefully. He stops preening her and stretches his neck. He makes a strange subvocalization while she does. She can only suppose it is a good sound because if he didn’t want her to scratch, she is sure he would let her know by pecking or flying away. After she finishes, he settles down calmly on her shoulder. 

She only takes a couple of wrong turns before remembering the route back to the medical ward as Zayne calls it. She’s not thrilled with needing to see him after what happened in the kitchen, but maybe if she’s careful not to get too close or speak more than necessary she won’t upset him again. At least the other men seem to be okay with her presence. Almost too okay with it, honestly. 

She should be grateful Zayne is keeping his distance but that doesn’t stop the pang in her heart. Although she knows her arrival messed things up for them, it’s not like she came here purposely. He could try to be a little more understanding. With a little effort she pushes away her negative thoughts. It doesn’t help to dwell on them anyway.

Finally reaching the door to the clinic area, Elly begins to open the door but she flinches and stops when she hears Zayne yelling. Her heart speeds. She hasn’t even entered the room. What is he mad at her about this time? Then his shouted words register. A cold chill runs through her and she takes a moment to absorb the news. She’s dying.

Well, it’s not like you aren’t aware this was a possibility, she tells herself. It’s been hanging over your head since you were a child . All the more heavily since losing her mom. She’s always followed doctors' advice to the letter. Been careful to eat healthy, even when she could barely afford to eat anything. She exercises. Doesn’t drink alcohol or caffeine except an occasional red wine in very small quantities and only rarely. Even when her friends drink, she is always the designated driver, sticking to water or decaf tea.

Although she knows she has been running herself a little ragged trying to pay off her mom’s medical bills, she thought she compensated by quitting her exercise routine since she was getting plenty at the construction site and running to and from her various jobs. She slept every moment she could, giving up warm showers for every extra minute of sleep possible. She had figured she was still okay. When did that change? Can she pinpoint a time or moment when it was no longer enough?

As she considers it, she concludes that for the last month or so, she has been too exhausted to enjoy the little things. Things like going to the library. Was that when it started?

Realizing she isn’t going to find these answers on her own, she decides to join the conversation. She is sure MC would either run and hide or pretend she didn’t hear anything. Truthfully, Elly wishes she could too. But she hasn’t survived this long by ignoring medical advice. If she wants to find a way to overcome this, she needs to meet it head on, armed with as much information as possible. Taking a deep breath, she pushes open the door.

The room has gone completely silent. She’s not sure what she missed while she was trying to gather her thoughts, so she says the first thing that comes to mind.

“Wow, who died?” Elly’s joke unsurprisingly falls flat. Xavier, Rafayel, and Sylus look at her with matching looks of horror on their faces. She is careful not to look at Zayne. “Just trying to lighten the mood.” She grumbles to herself as she walks closer to where they are gathered. It looks like they had been sitting at one point but everyone is currently on their feet.

“For that, it would have to be funny, kitten,” Sylus says with a small smile as she draws near, but his tone is lacking its normal teasing quality and the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. Rafayel doesn’t say anything, he just turns to her with suspiciously watery eyes and suddenly she is in his arms, feet dangling as he nuzzles into her, breath shuddering against her neck. Mephisto squawks angrily and flies from her other shoulder to a nearby desk but Elly barely registers it.

“Hey, I’m still here. It’s okay. I’m going to be okay,” She whispers to him, wrapping her arms around him in return. She kisses the side of his neck as one of her hands instinctively caresses his back and the other runs through his variegated purple anemone hair in an attempt to soothe him.

“You don’t know that,” he whispers back, arms tightening around her.

“I do. I don’t know how, yet, but I have done it before. We’ll figure out how.” She tells him. Seemingly without looking he takes several steps to one of the chairs and sits, keeping her in his arms so she is on his lap. Since her legs are no longer dangling, she figures this is an improvement and doesn’t protest. She continues to soothe him, humming under her breath while he gets himself back under control. After a minute he finally pulls back. His face is dry but her neck is slightly damp.

“We’ll find a way.” She says, bringing up her hand to caress his cheek and nods at him. Once he nods back, she turns to the group. “Any ideas?”

Chapter Text

The poll results have been calculated, and "1 long chapter per week with both MC & LI POVs" has won a pretty significant margin. What that means is I won't be publishing a chapter this week. I will make Tuesday my posting day. 

I did want to give a shout out to a creator who has released two beautiful songs inspired by Love and Deepspace. Here is their most recent song. You should definitely check out their music. This is posted with permission.

Nighfall Queen - by Kelee

I appreciate all of the love and support I received after my last post. I really love the community here on AO3 with all the LADS readers and writers. You are the best! Thank you so much and I will see you next week

FYI-I have a couple of original flash fiction and short stories I wrote years ago that I am thinking of publishing on AO3, so, if you are interested in hearing about those when they are released, make sure to subscribe to me as an author and not just this fic. 

Chapter Text

Xavier

Xavier tries to push down the jealousy that swells within him at seeing Elly on Rafayel’s lap with the Lemurian’s arms entwined about her like an octopus. Still, it is difficult because he wants nothing more in that moment than to keep her wrapped safe in his own arms. As though that alone will keep her safe and healthy. A terrible emptiness began to open inside him when he heard that name. Protocore Syndrome. A disease he knows far too much about. He can’t have found her again, only to lose her. He won’t sit back and watch her die. No matter the cost.

“What if we send her back to her world? Would that work?” There is a pained look on Sylus’s face as he asks this. Xavier frowns at him but considers it from a scientific perspective. 

“If the cause of her increased Evol is due to her arrival in our world, then theoretically that could work,” Xavier says and Zayne nods and opens his mouth but Elly speaks before he can.

“I don’t think it will.” She gives Xavier an apologetic look before glancing at Sylus. Xavier notices she doesn’t look at Zayne at all. Before this latest bombshell, seeing her ignoring one of the others might have brought Xavier a little comfort, but right now, nothing will bring him comfort until she is safe and well. Even if that means sending her back somehow.

“Why not?” Zayne asks in a quiet, almost monotone voice. Elly continues to look at Xavier, but she does respond to Zayne’s question.

“Let’s say, I believe you that this isn’t a dream and I’ve somehow traveled to your universe. I overheard a little before I walked in and started thinking about when this might have begun. It never occurred to me that anything was wrong at the time, but when I think back, I have been more than usually exhausted for just over a month before being brought here.” Xavier can’t help himself. Her continued obstinate belief that she is dreaming and not physically here with them needs to stop.

“Are you familiar with the Everett interpretation?” He breaks in. Elly shakes her head. 

“It’s an interpretation of quantum mechanics that states there are many parallel, non-interacting worlds. That all things are possible, all choices and possibilities are realized in the many worlds.”

“Wait, are you saying the multi-verse is real?” Elly’s eyes widen and her mouth opens in an “o” that Xavier finds adorable but refuses to let it sidetrack him.

“It’s similar, yes. In my time it has been shown to be accurate. It is one of the concepts that led to the Deepspace Tunnel. If an infinite number of universes exist and with infinite possibilities, isn’t it possible you were able to travel from one parallel world to another?” Elly looks like she wants to argue and frustration wells up in Xavier. He needs her to understand that this, that he, is real.

“Why didn’t you have your heart checked?” Zayne’s calm, flat voice bringing them back to the subject at hand. 

“I was working three jobs. I just thought I was slightly overworked. I mean, I was. But now that I think about it, I am pretty sure it is more than that.” Elly shrugs.

“Three Jobs?” Rafayel asks, face and tone equally offended at the very thought. “What on earth for?”

Xavier exchanges a frown with other men, all wearing various looks of dissatisfaction at this information.

“That’s not the point. The point is if this started just over a month before my “alleged arrival” here, then sending me back won’t be enough because it was already happening.” Xavier grits his teeth as Elly tries to look firm. Seeing that Rafayel still has her on his lap with his arms wrapped around her like a leech setting off all his protective and possessive instincts. He is careful not to let his frustration show. He has had centuries learning to control his emotions after all.

“Just over a month?” Sylus suddenly cuts in, his voice heavy with an ominous import.

“Yes,” Elly replies with a quizzical look on her face. Xavier follows the exchange closely. The white haired man has obviously made a connection that the rest of them haven’t.

“Is it possible it’s related to the first attack?” There is a grim note to Sylus’s voice that immediately puts Xavier on alert before the meaning sinks in.

“First attack?” Zayne asks. 

“What is he talking about?” Xavier questions at the same time.

“The night we found her isn’t the first time that Elly’s been attacked.” Sylus’s voice deepens until it has devolved into an almost unintelligible growl.

“Who?” Although Rafayel’s voice carries the same almost offended cadence as before, his tone is darker with an unmistakable underlying menace that Xavier completely agrees with. There is no way they will be sending her back to a world that has already tried to kill her twice without first making sure any threats are summarily dealt with. And not even then if he has anything to say about it. He knows the others will support him in that. He also decides that regardless of what he finds out about Eliwyn, he will not be sending Elinor back alone. It is clear she needs protection and if she insists on leaving, he will simply go with her.

“It’s the same person who attacked me the night you saved me.” Xavier sees the others let out a collective sigh, knowing that her attacker has already been dealt with, but Xavier has to wonder why someone would attack Elly not only once, but twice. Are there more unknown threats on her world? How safe and healthy would she be, and for how long, if living there requires her to work three jobs? He sets those questions aside for the moment but knows he will not forget them. He pulls himself back to the initial question.

“Elly, tell us what happened during the first attack,” Elly fills them in on the first attack that came out of nowhere while she was playing the game. Something about her story sounds a little off to Xavier though.

“Elly, how did you get from being knocked down outside to inside the store before he could get to you?” Elly just shakes her head.

“I don’t remember. It all happened so fast.” From the open expression on her face, Xavier can tell she isn’t trying to hide anything. He knows, however, that even for a man with average to slow speed, it would be easy to overpower Elly before she can escape if she is prone and they are standing. There must be something more. Some factor they aren’t aware of.

“Think back. Is there anything you can remember thinking or feeling between getting knocked down and locking the doors to the store?” Elly closes her eyes as though she is reliving the memory in her mind. For a few moments she’s silent and then she frowns.

“That’s odd. I got a friction burn from the fall. Or at least, I thought I did. Now that I’m going through the sequence in my head, I don’t think my hand was touching the ground and my hand doesn’t start to hurt until I am inside the store.”

“Where was your hand when you were on the ground?” Xavier coaxes quietly, trying not to jar her out of the memory. Elly flexes her hand as though trying to feel what it felt then.

“It feels smooth like glass. It must have been on top of my phone. That doesn’t make any sense though.”

“What then?” Xavier asks.

“Then I am in the store. I’m sorry. I think my memory is still too jumbled. I wish I could be of more help.”

“You were very helpful,” Xavier assures her. She looks at him skeptically but doesn’t argue. With this new information, a theory begins to form in his mind. In order to confirm it he will need to get the data from the Traceback II and compare it to the information from Ulysses. He looks around apologetically.

“I need to pick up some more data and review it with Jeremiah before I can confirm what happened during the attack that might have affected her Evol. It might not be related to her heart but the timeline is too close for coincidence.” Xavier meets the eyes of the other men and sees varying degrees of skepticism but they all nod in agreement. Figuring out her heart and Evol take precedence. 

Xavier pretends not to see the suppressed anguish in the other men’s eyes. Anguish that matches his own. They are all still reeling from the news but Xavier knows from experience that he needs to keep working on the problem. It is the only way he will make it through. Not finding a solution isn’t an option at this point. He meets Sylus' gaze last and although Sylus has his eyebrow raised sardonically, there is matching determination and purpose in the other man's eyes. They share a nod of understanding.

Xavier walks to where Elly sits on Rafayel’s lap and tries to draw her away so they can speak privately but Rafayel refuses to release her, squeezing her more tightly, a petulant look on his face.

“Sorry,” Elly says exasperatedly, but there is no mistaking the warmth in her tone at the purple haired man’s antics. 

Well, two can play at that game. Xavier thinks to himself.

“I have to go. Please be safe and remember what I told you.” She nods at him, but he’s not done. His focus narrows and intensifies as he moves closer and she visibly straightens.

“I will return as soon as I can… I promise.” Her eyes widen at his words and she gasps slightly as he finishes closing the distance. Ignoring the artist, Xavier tilts Elly’s chin up as he lowers his lips to hers. With slightly parted lips he fights to keep the kiss light while savoring the sweet taste of her. He lingers perhaps longer than when they were in his room, but he is careful he doesn’t push farther than she has already allowed. He made a promise after all and he keeps his promises. He can feel his lips curling up in a smirk at the thought as he pulls back. He is rewarded with the sight of Elly as he wishes to always see her. Breathless, with her eyes filled with starlight and heightened color on her cheeks.

Without a backward glance he stalks from the room and heads toward the roof. Before Elly’s unforeseen appearance in his room earlier, he was able to pull up a schematic of the estate from the city archives. Not that she interrupted him for long. Once she had fallen asleep, he had gone back to studying the information provided by Ulysses, but being able to run the data through the Traceback II and compare it to the two centuries of information already there will significantly decrease the amount of time this will take.

As he passes the corridor to the living area, Xavier notes that two guards have been stationed outside the corridor and is glad to see Sylus is taking Elly’s safety seriously. He nods to the men who appear to recognize him before they nod back. Satisfied, he continues to the roof where he finds the only spot not covered by any of the surrounding cameras and lookouts and promptly activates his Evol. 

When he stops, he is standing in an empty greenhouse at Philo. He quickly makes his way to the front where Jeremiah sits behind the counter working on a flower arrangement.

“You’re closed for the rest of the day,” Xavier states as he walks to the door and locks it and keys the alarm system. “Gather the equipment, we’re heading to the Traceback II.”

“What’s happened?” Jeremiah immediately stands and heads to the room they store the portable equipment, gathering everything into a carryall with Xavier’s help. Xavier’s throat constricts momentarily.

“She’s got protocore syndrome.”

“Yes, I know.” Jeremiah just looks at Xavier like he’s lost his mind, and maybe he has. The further from Elly he gets, the more the empty feeling inside him grows.

“Not Eliwyn. Elinor has protocore syndrome and an Evol that is twice the strength of Eliwyn’s at its strongest and no protocore to protect her heart.” The color drains from Jeremiah’s face as the news sinks in. He knows what happened the first time Xavier met Eliwyn on Philos.

“What about Eliwyn?”

“That is why we need to head to the Traceback II. We are going to find out.” Xavier slings the bag over his shoulder.

“I’ll go get the car.” Jeremiah moves to grab his keys but Xavier stops him, grabbing his arm firmly and dragging him out the back after locking the door behind them.

“No time.” In a flash of light they are speeding toward the No Hunt Zone and the Traceback II where he will hopefully find his answers.

***

Elinor

Elly can’t meet anyone's eyes after Xavier’s kiss. She can still feel the heat in her cheeks and how silky but firm his lips had felt on hers. Rafayel’s hands on her waist almost bruise as they clench subconsciously. She clears her throat and tries to move past it.

“Uh, so… before I arrived and overheard the fabulous news, I came to see if I could get my next dose of anxiety meds. I feel like the last batch is wearing off. Especially now.” Her self-deprecating laugh sounds off, but considering the situation, she is surprised she is doing as well as she is. First fear, then elation, and now sliding back into fear. Is it possible to get emotional whiplash? 

Out of the corner of her eye she sees Zayne check his holo screen before nodding and standing up. He motions for her to follow him despite her refusal to look at him. It feels so awkward. She’s tempted to pretend she doesn’t see but he heads out of the room. She realizes the medication isn’t in this area. Maybe for safety reasons? Reluctantly she tries to stand.

Rafayel at first refuses to release her. “I’ll be right back,” she whispers before climbing to her feet and following Zayne. She can feel the eyes on her as she leaves and is grateful for a few minutes away from their scrutiny. Maybe she should try to have a quick word with Zayne while they have some privacy? Apologize again? Anything to alleviate the awkwardness. She follows him back out the main hallway and next door into what appears to be a fully stocked pharmacy.

“Wow. Not what I expected to find. Leave it to Sylus to go overboard.” She laughs but stops at Zayne’s grimace. She decides against trying to talk to him. Everything she says just seems to make him mad.

“Here, take this.” Zayne’s voice is the most monotone she has heard so far and his movements are stiff as he hands her a tiny cup with the medication in it. His breathing sounds surprisingly loud in the small space and Elly can see his neck muscles are taut and corded as though he is trying to lift a heavy weight. He must still be upset from earlier. 

With a sigh she takes it from him. Careful not to touch him at all, despite the small size of the medicine cup. He clears his throat as he turns away to grab a small water bottle off a nearby shelf. The water inside the bottle trembles slightly as he hands it to her and Elly realizes it is yet further indication of his anger. 

Surely he isn’t upset about Xavier? She figured he would be the only one Xavier didn’t piss off with that move. Despite that, she can’t bring herself to regret it. Not after seeing the heat in his gaze when his eyes met hers afterward. Then she notices how dark the circles under his eyes are. Perhaps it is exhaustion more than anything else. Her heart goes out to him.

“Zayne,” Elly says before she can stop herself, her voice barely above a whisper. “When was the last time you slept?”

“I haven’t…” He pauses, shaking his head and trying again. “I can’t…” He stops and seems to be trying to catch his breath as he presses one of his hands to his chest. Elly notices that his trembling increases and beads of sweat begin to gather on his forehead.

“Zayne, are you okay?” Elly places her hand on his arm and she can feel that the tremors are even worse than she thought. He just shakes his head at her, apparently unable to speak. She meets his eyes for the first time since the kitchen and finds herself looking into a maelstrom of emotion. Oh, shit.

“Zayne, I think you are having a panic attack. I am going to get some help.” She turns to go find Yvonne or Dr. Greyson but a hand on her arm prevents her from leaving.

“Zayne, I need to find Dr. Greyson.” She urges. He just shakes his head wordlessly as his symptoms seem to increase and he begins to sway on his feet. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. Okay Elly. You can handle this. You’ve had enough of them after all.

“Okay, I won’t leave. We can get through this. I need you to sit down in case you get dizzy. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” Zayne nods as he begins sliding down the wall, Elly wracks her brain for some of the techniques she has used over the years to help with her anxiety. She is suddenly pulled off balance as Zayne sinks too low but doesn’t release her arm. She braces for impact but is caught by warm arms that prevent her from getting hurt and she finds herself sitting sideways in his lap and gulps. She tries not to think about where she is sitting.

“Okay, good.” She tells him, turning awkwardly sideways to run her hands soothingly up and down his arms. She always finds repetitive touch soothing so it’s worth a shot. It does seem to help ground Zayne a little. Continuing the motions with her left hand, she takes her right and lays it on his chest over his heart.

“I want you to breathe with me, okay? We are going to breathe in through your nose to a count of four. Hold it for four, and then breath out through your mouth for six, okay?” He gives an almost imperceptible nod. She begins counting and although his breath stutters, his chest rises with hers, holds with hers, and then releases with hers. They continue breathing in and out together several more times before his breathing evens slightly. With her hand on his chest, both of them so focused on each other, it feels incredibly intimate despite the awkward position she is in. 

“That’s good. Keep going. Focus just on your breath. On how the air feels as it enters and exits your lungs.” Trying to get into a less awkward position, she starts to remove her hand from his chest but his breath catches and he grabs her hand, pressing it back down.

“Don’t disappear. You… always disappear.” His voice breaks and sounds strained but at least he can speak.

“I wasn’t going anywhere, I promise. I was trying to turn to face you a little more.” The words are barely out of her mouth before she is lifted by strong arms and gathered gently until she is sitting more comfortably straddling his lap with his arms at her waist. Both her hands rest against his chest as he leans his forehead to touch hers. She tries not to think about how incredibly close he is or how taut the muscles of his chest feel under her hands as his chest heaves. Get yourself together girl, he is having a freaking panic attack.

“Thanks,” she squeaks. “Keep breathing.” She tries to remember what she had planned to try next, but it is hard to think.

“Keep talking.” Zayne’s voice is low and hoarse in her ear. “It helps.” His breathing while still elevated does seem to be smoothing out slightly so she nods.

“You are going to be okay. This will pass. We can get through this together.” It is the mantra she uses when none of her other techniques work.

“It’s.. not me… I’m worried about.” He manages to get out between breaths. He must be worried that with her heart issues they may not be able to get his MC back. Her heart aches and she tells herself it is only hurting in empathy for him. This must be so hard on them all. Especially Zayne, who seems to have a harder time in the game expressing emotion.

“She’s going to be okay, Zayne. We are going to get Eliwyn back.” Unfortunately, this doesn’t have the calming effect she is hoping for. His breath hitches and begins to speed back up slightly and his arms tighten around her convulsively as though he fears she will try to go for help again.

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay. I’m here with you. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” This calms him and he can focus on his breathing again, so she continues to utter words to that effect. After repeating it a couple of times, once he seems a little more stable, she unconsciously transitions into singing Dream a Little Dream of Me quietly like she used to sing to her mom when she was especially sick. She sings it twice. Zayne’s breathing is finally under control. She moves to get up but his arms are still around her and won’t let go.

“Thank you.” Zayne leans in toward her ear, his voice is husky and deep from the panic attack and she shivers slightly as the sound touches something instinctual inside her.

“It’s fine. Goodness knows I have been on the other side of them often enough.”

“I’m sorry.” He leans in even closer to whisper, his lips brush accidentally against her ear sending a pulse of heat through her. She clears her throat. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for. You know panic attacks can’t be helped, Zayne. You’ve been through a lot lately.” Her voice sounds thready and she hopes he doesn’t notice. It will probably just make him mad again, and it’s so nice to not have him upset with her.

“Not for that. Although I appreciate it. I am sorry for earlier.” He pauses several times as though carefully measuring his words or his breath. His arms tighten almost automatically around her as he speaks. If anything, he seems to be holding her even more closely than he did during the panic attack. Perhaps he’s not completely recovered. Now that the worst is over, all her feelings about how his muscles feel as they flex beneath her come rushing back and she flushes at his proximity.

“I forgive you. It’s a fucked up situation. I don’t blame you for being angry with me.”

“It was never anger.” Elly frowns and pulls back to look into Zayne’s eyes. Although darker than normal, they no longer hold the storm of emotions. Instead, an ironclad determination fills them. “I am sorry I hurt you. You didn’t deserve it.” He meets her gaze steadily and brings his hand up to cup the side of her face, running his thumb along her cheek, as though soothing the memory of the bruise left by her abductor. The soft caress combined with the sincerity and huskiness in his voice are a lethal combination and Elly feels her heart rate begin to pick up but she ignores it. It isn’t his fault her body is reacting this way. She knows it’s not his intention. 

“I appreciate that.” She begins, “but if you weren’t angry, why…?” she’s not sure what she is asking or if she really wants to know. She should leave it at that and walk away. Before she says or does something to upset him again. His eyes lose focus momentarily as though he is looking inward and when he doesn’t say anything for a moment, she decides it is best to leave it alone.

“You don’t have to answer.” she begins, but his gaze sharpens at her words. His eyes are captivating.

“I was conflicted and confused,” he finally responds, his attention unwavering as he stares intently into her eyes. “But I no longer am.” The intensity of his gaze is almost unnerving but Elly finds herself caught in the dark depths of his forest filled gaze.

“I don’t understand…” She is finding it increasingly difficult to think.

“Life is too short to have regrets. Do you not agree?” He keeps her ensnared with his intensity. Confused, she wants to look away but finds herself helpless to.

“Of course.” She finally responds. She knows how quickly things can change for the worse. How quickly you can lose everything. You have to enjoy what you have while you have it.

“I am glad.” Without another word he leans in slowly and brushes his lips to her forehead. She closes her eyes and sighs into it, finally releasing a tension she didn’t realize she’s been holding. An unknown disappointment floods her, but she refuses to acknowledge or examine it. Best to leave things as they are. At least they can move forward as friends. Her eyes fly open and her breath catches at the feeling of his lips along her jaw. Then one side of her mouth. Then the other.

“Zayne, what are you doing?” She whispers, trying desperately to hold onto her sanity even as her hands slide up to twine into his hair. The feel of his lips against her skin is sending the most sinful feelings through her.

“Making sure we don’t have any regrets. Do you want me to stop?” He pauses, his eyes dark and fierce as they ensnare her. Even as she opens her mouth to tell him to stop, her heart betrays her.

“No.” There is no gentle testing of the waters or calm pressing of lips. It’s as though her admission releases a dam. He cants his head to the side and his lips devour hers, urgent and exquisite. His hands caress her cheeks and wrap around the sides of her head caging her. Holding her to him. Angling her in such a way as to give him better access as he bites at her lips, then soothes with a gentle suction. 

Elly trembles in his arms, overwhelmed by the velvet heat of his mouth. Pulses pulses of desire rush through. She is breathless. The caress of his tongue along her lips pulls a sinful moan from her that he echoes as he wordlessly requests she open to him. She parts her lips following his lead instinctually despite her only experience being from the last few days.  Before he can do more than sweep his tongue along hers, setting nerve endings alight she didn’t know she had, there is a pounding on the door startling Elly back and breaking her from her haze.

“Hey, everything okay cutie? You said you’d be right back.” Rafayel’s disgruntled and pouty whine penetrates the door, but luckily he doesn’t try to enter.

“Yes.” Elly pants, trying desperately to sound normal as she scrambles up from where she straddles Zayne’s lap. He rises as well, helping to steady her. “One second.” Their breathing is labored. Zayne’s cheeks and ears are flushed and she can feel a matching blush on her own features.

“Sorry, apparently I wasn’t quick enough to prevent a panic attack.” She calls hurriedly through the door before Zayne can say anything. She doesn’t specify that it wasn’t her panic attack and sees surprise flash across Zayne’s face. He opens his mouth to protest or correct the misunderstanding but she presses her fingers to his lips silencing him. She knows how private he is. He wouldn’t feel comfortable with the others knowing his business. Not unless or until they all learn to trust each other. She smiles at him and his eyes soften. He mouths “thank you” then smooths her hair and kisses her forehead.

Zayne opens the door for her, like the gentleman he is. The sullen look Rafayel shoots last but a moment. Then his eyes and mouth harden slightly and she knows he has guessed that he interrupted more than a panic attack. No one says anything as they make their way back to the seating area where Sylus silently waits. Mocking with just a look, but unsure who it’s directed at, Elly ignores it. 

As Elly moves to sit in Xavier’s empty chair, Rafayel takes her hand and tugs her to him. She’s about to admonish him, despite the pout on his lips, until she sees a flash of insecurity in his eyes.

“I need to be taken seriously right now and I can’t do that if I’m sitting on your lap,” she explains without releasing his hand. Then she drags Xavier’s chair as close to Rafayel’s as it will go and sits down. Rafayel smirks as though he has won a contest, then lifts their linked hands and brushes his lips across her knuckles, sending a pulse of electricity through her. She figures he is just trying to rile up Zayne due to his suspicions, but when she looks into Rafayel’s eyes they are filled with an intense heat and he is only looking at her. 

Cautiously she looks at Zayne to see if he is upset again, but the corner of his lips are tilted up slightly as they have been since leaving the pharmacy. There is still determination in his eyes, but it is joined by something else she can’t decipher. She decides not to think about it for the moment. She has more than enough to worry about right now. When no one says anything, she decides to break the silence.

“I wanted a chance to speak with you all about the abduction attempt. I don’t think it was about me. At least, not entirely.” That gets everyone’s attention.

“Cutie, we have more important things to discuss,” Rafayel whispers into her ear, his breath on her neck making her shiver.

“This is important too.” She insists.

“What makes you say that?” Sylus’s voice has retreated behind his normal indifferent tone. A pain goes through Elly at the sound, but she tries not to show it. She figures he is using it to distance himself from the situation. From her. She doesn’t know what to do about it. How can she feel so drawn to all of them? Thank the gods they never got around to releasing a fifth love interest.

“Correct me if I am wrong, but aren’t there easier ways to get Zayne out of the picture for an hour or two than a paralytic neurotoxin? That sounds like overkill to me. I don’t know anything about neurotoxins other than one was used on MC when she was attacked at the nest, but it is pretty easy in my world to get sleeping pills and even MC had a powerful tranquilizer on her when she went into the N109 zone. Why did they use that particular neurotoxin?”

“The toxin used, X-019 is particularly expensive and difficult to obtain,” Sylus advises, his voice holding a thoughtful note. “That’s a good point. Why use that one when a cheaper, more easily available option would work as easily?”

“Exactly. What if MC, or rather Eliwyn wasn’t the primary target? What if Zayne was?” Elly can see by the astounded looks on everyone's face that this hasn’t even occurred to anyone. Everyone except Sylus, who is shaking his head.

“It’s an interesting thought, kitten, but I had the syringe we found in your room tested. They tried to use the same neurotoxin on you as well. You were just smart or quick enough to realize something was wrong and removed the IV before it could affect you. They probably just wanted the doctor as well since he is so familiar with your case.” This time it was Elly’s turn to shake her head.

“That only strengthens my point,” she insists. “There has to be at least a handful of doctors easily corruptible. Zayne would never do anything to MC except help her, so there must be something specific they need Zayne for. Also, why would they use the same, hard to locate, neurotoxin unless they needed them both, Zayne and MC to be out of commission the same length of time?” Elly looks around the room to gauge their reaction and sees that they are at least considering the possibility.

 “One bonus of having read through the game storyline and all the side stories is that I am aware of something you probably aren’t.” Now she has everyone’s attention.

“One of the side stories centers around someone who’s been trying to recruit Zayne so he can recreate an experiment that Zayne worked on and purposefully destroyed while he was still in school. One that they have been trying unsuccessfully to replicate.” Elly sees Zayne flinch out of the corner of her eye but continues regardless. 

“One of their employees worked with Zayne on the project and is also aware of Zayne and MC’s history and her heart condition. He specifically states in the side story he plans to use MC to force Zayne into completing the experiment.” The room is utterly silent at this news.

“Who?” Zayne’s voice is hard and cold as ice. It reminds Elly of the Foreseer myth. There is a look in his eyes as though he already knows the answer and is awaiting confirmation.

“His name is Carter.” The hardening of Zayne’s eyes and lack of surprise tell Elly she is correct.

“That is an interesting theory, cutie.” Rafayel says, “but it doesn’t explain the second group of kidnappers.”

Chapter Text

Rafayel

Still feeling as though he can’t draw breath after receiving the news about Elly’s condition, Rafayel tries to ignore the burning sensation in his chest since seeing the way Elly was looking at Zayne when they left the storeroom. He is careful not to let this show on his face or demeanor, of course. Instead he feigns a nonchalance he is far from feeling and smirks at the adorable pole-axed look on Elly’s face at his revelation. Zayne looks equally surprised but Rafayel ignores him. Interestingly, Sylus doesn’t react to the news at all. Not even a micro expression. He either has the best poker face known to man or he has already come to the same conclusion. Probably both, Rafayel admits to himself.

“What are you talking about?” Elly’s brows are drawn together, making a cute wrinkle. He has the urge to smooth with his finger.

“The men who tried to take you from the hospital were not working with the men who chased us,” Rafayel advises, trying to ease her into the information. It is hard enough to know that you have one group of villains after you, but two? 

He watches her process the information. Sees the understandable fear as it rises but doesn’t swamp her. He watches in amazement as instead of hiding from it or pushing it down,  the fear is replaced by acceptance and determination. Considering everything she has gone through in the last week, including being attacked, then waking in a world that is not her own, only to be attacked again and almost kidnapped, he is amazed at her resilience. Most people would buckle under the strain or run screaming. 

Elly might not have Eliwyn’s brash bravado, but there is a quiet strength to Elly that impresses Rafayel and fills him with a yearning to know more. He needs more time. More of Elly. How many other hidden facets are there to her personality?

“How did you figure that out?” Elly’s question cuts right into his train of thought and it takes Rafayel a moment to bring it back on track.

“When I reviewed the footage of both the abduction attempt and the chase I noticed something.” Rafayel is careful not to mention the interrogation or his role in it. He doesn’t regret his actions or those deaths, but if she learns the truth, will she turn away from him? Especially now that she has so many others vying for her affection? Will she want someone as tainted as he is? How can he take that chance? It is better if she never finds out.

“Okay, and what did that show you?” Elly prompts with a hint of impatience in her tone. Rafayel reigns in his emotions and errant thoughts and gets down to business. The best way to help Elly is to focus.

“I noticed some glaring discrepancies between the two groups. The first thing I noticed was that although the equipment of each group was of equally high caliber, the two men who failed in the abduction had equipment that didn’t fit them properly, but the ones chasing us did. It’s like the difference between a bespoke suit and off the rack.” He infuses just the right amount of playful disdain into his voice. It has the desired effect. Elly’s low chuckle at the analogy goes right to certain parts of his anatomy that are better not to be thought about if he wants to continue to focus. He knows he will need to find a way to make her laugh like that again. Every chance he can.

“Also, they weren’t very professional or coordinated compared to the group that pursued us. If they had been, you would never have been able to slow them down long enough for Sylus to reach you in time.” He watches her blanche at the thought and has to ignore the chills that run down his spine at the knowledge of how close he came to losing her already. If the second group had arrived first, it likely would have had a very different outcome.

Rafayel squeezes Elly’s hand gently to reassure her as he continues, “The team that chased us moved with military precision. Whoever hired the first group had the funds and access to the best equipment, but no understanding of how to hire talent. They lacked knowledge of tactics and command, whereas the second group had both.” Sylus has that knowing smirk on his face once more and it solidifies Rafayel’s theory that the crime lord knows more than he is saying. Rafayel glares at him. This is not a time to hold things back. Not if they are going to protect Elly long enough to figure out how to keep her alive.

"The thing that bothers me is why were the two groups sent at almost the same time. Was it just bad luck that they arrived so close to each other?" If they can’t figure it out, Rafayel will reach out to his contacts at the Nest, price is no object, but he fears it may take too long to get the information. Things are moving at a very fast pace and this is too important. He also has a theory on who might be behind the second group and wants to confirm it before saying anything. 

“Alright. I trust that you would know if there was more than one group. That doesn’t mean my theory is invalid though.” Elly says.

“I wasn’t arguing, cutie.” Rafayel pouts. “I was just going to ask what we know about this Carter?” She shakes her head at his antics, but the look on her face is fond. 

“He’s a sociopath. When we worked together, he was driven and ambitious but lacked any shred of compassion or morality.” The disdain in the normally reserved doctor’s voice is almost jarring.  

“That is the feeling I got from the story too.” Elly agrees. “Zayne, do you know if he has any combat experience?”

“Not to my knowledge.” Zayne looks thoughtful. “I wouldn’t put something like this past him.”

“Okay, so it’s possible, especially with Raymond dead. He is dead already, right? So far, everything I have participated in the game has happened so that should have as well?” A stab of fear goes through Rafayel at the mention of the man he drove insane.

“Yes. What does that have to do with this?” Rafayel is careful to keep his tone light, and curious, even as his heart begins to pick up pace.

“Carter works for Xander Science,” Zayne responds, his distaste evident in his tone. 

“Who is the head now that Raymond is dead?” Elly continues.

“There is an acting CEO who is completely inept and is signing pretty much anything that comes across his desk.” Sylus chimes in for the first time.

“How do you know that?” Rafayel zeroes in on Sylus.

“I might have been using it to my advantage in some recent, shall we say, dealings. That is coming to an end though as they were recently acquired.” If Onychinus has dealings with Xander Science, perhaps Rafayel should be protecting Elly from Sylus. Just when he is starting to like the guy. Plans on how to separate her from the group and get her on her own so they can talk privately immediately begin to form.

“Do you know by who?” Elly asks Sylus, clearly not understanding the potential implications of Onychinus being in bed with Xander Science. And why would she? She doesn’t know how they are exploiting not only the Lemurians, but humans as well with their experimentation.

 “A shell corporation. I am still in the process of tracking it back but I am pretty sure I know who will be at the end of that line.” The dark knowing look on Sylus’s face is enough that Rafayel is more certain than ever that he needs to get Elly alone.

“It’s Ever, isn’t it?” Rafayel’s heart stutters in his chest at Elly’s question. What does she know about Ever? Even Eliwyn didn’t know how many dark and twisted roads lead back to that nefarious organization. If Sylus is somehow involved with Ever, Rafayel needs to get Elly away from him immediately. 

“Good deduction, kitten.” There is a teasing warmth in Sylus’s voice that sets Rafayel’s teeth on edge.

“Is there a way to confirm if Xander Science or Ever are behind either group of mercenaries?” Zayne asks, voice back to its cold analytical tone.

“If they are mercenaries. They may be a private force or even one of the militaries.”

“I am working on it as we speak.” Sylus has a holoscreen up and is flipping through too quickly for Rafayel to catch much, but Rafayel recognizes some of the sites as abyssal chaos.

With her next words, Elly gives him the perfect opportunity.

“Rafayel, can I talk to you privately for a moment?”

“Sure, cutie. Whatever you need. Let’s take this into the hall.” Rafayel gives her a look of lazy indulgence and allows himself to be pulled to his feet. Once there he keeps tight hold of Elly’s hand.

“Kitten, what are you up to?” Sylus pauses what he is doing and narrows his eyes at Elly. The look she returns is suspiciously innocent and for the first time, Rafayel wonders why she wants to get him alone. Does she have some of the same concerns he does?

“Nothing. I just have a question I need to ask Rafayel in private.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to share with the group?” Sylus pushes but Elly holds firm, turning to look at Sylus directly.

“Are you saying you’re willing to share your secrets openly, Sylus? Because if you are, by all means, feel free to go first.” The mocking smirk Elly gives Sylus is so identical to Sylus’s that it startles a laugh from Rafayel. Elly drags him from the room. As soon as they have passed the doors, Rafayel takes the lead and pulls Elly down the hall as quickly as he can. There’s an indignant caw as a small black form flies through the doors before they close completely.

“Uh, huh! No! Nope! You stay back there bird brain. This conversation is not for you.” The bird fluffs its feathers in disgruntlement but remains where it is. Rafayel knows he will have to disable the thing if they decide to escape, but he doubts it can handle being engulfed in flames or taking one of his knives to the head. 

“Rafayel, where are you going?” Elly pulls back on him, but he doesn’t slow down and she stumbles. Cursing himself, he turns and steadies her.

“This is far enough. Even Mephie can’t hear from us this far away.” Elly says. They are at the far end of the rather long hall. Although Rafayel craves more distance, he only momentarily debates carrying her further away. But he decides that probably won’t go over well until she at least understands the situation, so he relents.

“Look, we can’t trust Sylus.” Rafayel huffs and crosses his arms at Elly before she can say anything.

“What? Where is this coming from?” She stops short, nonplussed.

“He admits to working with Xander Sciences. We can’t trust him.” Rafayel, in full-on artist persona, lets his voice rise dramatically as he gestures back toward the room.

“No, Rafayel, it’s not what you think.” She rolls her eyes at his theatrics and he can tell she isn’t taking him seriously, so Rafayel changes tactics. Lowering his voice both in pitch and timbre, he leans closer to Elly, his voice dripping with sincerity.

“Elly, Xander Science isn’t what they appear. There are things you don’t know. Things I can’t go into, but we can’t trust anyone who has dealings with them.” He tries to find the right words to convince her. How do you convince someone a legitimate-looking company is doing terrible and illegal things without tangible proof?

“What about your dealings with Ever?” Rafayel’s brain stumbles and his heart stutters. His train of thought about Onychinus completely derailed. Surely he didn’t hear her correctly.

“What?” He chokes out. All artifice is gone from his demeanor.

“I’m talking about the contact you ‘had dealings’ with at the nest when you traded Eliwyn for information and sent her into the N109 zone. Does that mean I can’t trust you?” The knowing look in Elly’s eyes makes Rafayel feel like the ground is shifting beneath his feet and he stares at her, unsure how to answer. How can she know about that? What else does she know?

“Of course not! I would never betray you!” Rafayel looks away. He can’t breathe. Can’t think. This is his nightmare come to life. How did she find out? No one was ever supposed to know. It was part of the deal and why it was conducted in a private room. His instincts tell him to run. To flee before she can condemn him, but he is frozen. There's a terrible pain in his chest and his eyes burn suspiciously, making it increasingly harder to think. 

What will he do if she hates him? He knew when he decided to go after the people behind the exploitation and torture of Lumerians that he was crossing a line he couldn’t uncross and he thought he had accepted that. But if he looks into her eyes and sees hatred or even worse fear? He doesn’t know what he will do.

“Rafayel. Rafayel, it’s okay.” Her voice slowly draws him out of his panic and he can feel her hands on his face, trying to turn him to look at her but this time he doesn’t allow himself to be moved.

“I can’t.” While barely a whisper, his voice breaks at the admission.

“Rafayel. Look at me.” The soft command hits him like a freight train. Even without the bond forcing his compliance, he is helpless to obey her. He steels himself for the worst and meets her eyes. His eyes widen in shock at the trust he finds shining in them.

“Rafayel, I know you wouldn’t have taken any chances with Eliwyn’s life. Just like I know you won’t take any chances with mine.”

“I would never risk anything happening to you, love.” Rafayel swallows back tears, barely catching himself in time from calling her my love. She isn’t ready to hear that from him. Yet.

“I know. And I understand why you got upset about Xander Science.”

“You don’t,” he murmurs, “You don’t know what they are capable of.”

“Raf, you keep forgetting that I am not Eliwyn.”

“I don’t!” He protests vehemently. “I know you aren’t her. I see the differences in your expression and temperament. All the little nuances that make you, you, and not her. I could tell the difference between you if you were both in front of me dressed identically,” Elly looks taken aback for a moment but shakes her head and continues her train of thought. 

“Okay, but you keep forgetting I know more than she does. I know what they are doing to Lumerians. You shouldn’t be judged for your contact with Ever. And, Sylus shouldn’t be judged for dealings with Xander Science. You are both working toward the same goal.” She says this firmly. Like it is a fact. Then Elly’s eyes soften.

“Don’t you see that is one of the things I love about you?” Rafayel’s whole body freezes in shock at her admission but she carries on, unaware of the import of what she said. “The one thing you all share in common is how fiercely protective you are of those you care about.” Elly takes her hand away from his face and lays it on his chest, both soothing him and making his heart speed at the contact. Her words still reverberate through his brain, and he looks down at her with all the adoration he feels shining in his eyes. Only to watch as she freezes. Her eyes are filled with awe and then change to shock and fear. Following her gaze, he sees where her hand on his chest has moved his shirt just enough to reveal the bond mark. Still glowing from her command. He immediately tries to pass it off.

“It’s just a Lumerian thing. Happens when I get upset.” He says at the same time she says.

“Raf, why in Hades is your Lumerian bond mark glowing?” Elly looks like she’s going to hyperventilate.

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay, cutie. Just breathe.” He tilts her chin up so she isn’t staring at the bond, she is looking at him.

“How… when?” The confusion he understands, but it's the fear that worries him. She just said she trusts him. He needs her to know she still can.

“Always. I don’t know how it happened, but it’s how I was able to get through the portal to your world and rescue you. I don’t know how you activated the bond, but until you did, the portal wasn’t working. When I felt the bond activate, I knew you were in danger. Somehow,  I used the bond to get through an inactive portal. To you.”

“That’s impossible. You are bonded to Eliwyn. I… I saw it in the game. And you and I never met until two days ago when I woke up in Akso. It doesn’t make any logical sense!” He hears a note of hysteria creeping into her tone and hopes her anxiety meds have had a chance to kick in or he is going to be out of commission shortly. She looks like she's about to cry or scream. He pulls her to him and gently cradles her in his arms as one hand runs soothing circles on her back and the other caresses her hair.

“No one said bonds were logical,” Rafayel chuckles. “We will figure this out together. It can mean as much or as little as you want and you don’t have to decide now.” Rafayel closes his eyes against what he is about to say next. 

“We can even break the bond if that is what you want.”

“What, no!” Elly leans back to look at him, aghast at the very suggestion. A breath he didn’t know he had been holding releases in a rush at her vehement reply. "We need to keep it intact for when we get Eliwyn back." Any elation he feels deflates when he realizes she still doesn't think the bond is hers. At least she knows about it now. It will be easier to get her to accept it.

“Okay, we will take it slow and figure out what you want.” He pulls her back into a hug and is gratified when her arms wrap around him tightly. They will figure this out. And he will find a way to convince her to honor the bond.

“Now, not to rush but they are probably getting antsy in there. What was it you wanted to ask me about?” He feels her stand a little taller and knows she has either accepted this new information about the bond or set it aside for now. Probably the latter.

“Actually, it was about Ever. I wanted to know if you could use your contact there and find out if they were the ones behind the kidnapping.” He decides to be honest. She already knows about that contact after all.

“Hm, maybe. That thought had crossed my mind. I will need something to trade though and I don't know how fast we can get the information. It is worth discussing.” Rafayel pulls back and looks down at Elly. He can still see the confusion and that little niggle of fear in her eyes, but there is more determination than anything else. Pride fills him at how well she rolls with the punches. Unable to help himself he leans down to deliver a small kiss to the end of her nose. He desperately wants to kiss her luscious lips. Especially after that hunter kissed her while she was in his lap. But, considering the revelation she just had, he doesn’t want to push her too far too fast. He knows how to play the long game. After all he has been in this game far longer than anyone would possibly believe. Too fast and she might change her mind and decide to break the bond.

“Ready to head back in?” He asks tentatively.

“I think, I just need a minute to digest this. I’ll be right behind you.”

Since they are within view, albeit at the end of a rather lengthy hallway, and her mechanical feathered shadow is watching over her, Rafayel nods. Mephisto, seeing Rafayel heading toward the doors, flies toward Elly. Rafayel almost reaches the doors to the hospital area when he hears a guard arrive and tell Elly he has a message from Sylus. Rafayel frowns. Entering the room and opens his mouth to ask why Sylus would send the message through a guard instead of just sending it to him when he is interrupted.

“Where’s Elly?” Sylus’s abrupt demand stops Rafayel in his tracks as the door swings shut behind him. Rafayel sees Sylus is already on his feet and his movements appear agitated as he attempts to key something into a holoscreen.

“She’s just down the hall. Said she needed a moment and would be right in. Why?” Sylus’s frown deepens and he tries something else on his tablet.

“There is a glitch with the network and communications just went down. I will go get her.” A chill runs down Rafayel’s spine.

“Sylus, if the network is down, how did you send a message through one of your guards for Elly?” Alarm flashes in Sylus’s eyes and without a word he sprints out the door. Realizing there is only one reason for the flash of fear he sees in the other man’s eyes, Rafayel is on his heels instantly. Sylus didn’t send the message. All they find at the end of the hall is a small still black form. There is no sign of Elly of the guard.

***

Elly

It feels like she is trying to swim through molasses as Elly forces herself into wakefulness with a sense of urgency. She finds herself in a dim room on a comfortable bed. Confused, she tries to remember why it felt urgent to awaken but can’t. She raises her head but lays back down as the room spins crazily around her. 

“Mephisto, what happened?” There’s no responding caw and she frowns. Wasn’t he with her? “Mephie?” Silence.

Her stomach begins to rebel and she forces herself to sit upright, fighting against the dizziness. She sees a door ajar at the other end of the room and prays it is a bathroom. As she pushes herself to her feet and stumbles to it, the room seems to tilt and move. Did she drink alcohol? Why would she do that? Especially in light of recent news about her heart. 

Finally making her way to the open door, Elly is relieved to discover it is indeed a bathroom and she kneels before the toilet just in time for the contents of her stomach to be repelled violently. There isn’t much in her stomach, however. After what feels like an eternity of retching and dry heaving, her stomach calms enough that she can sit back. By this time she is panting and exhausted. From the way her face hurts, she is pretty sure she ruptured some blood vessels too. Leaning her head back against the cool tile wall, she closes her eyes. Once she is sure she isn’t going to puke again, she uses the toilet and then fumbles along the sink where she finds a new toothbrush and toothpaste. Maybe they moved bases again. But why does she feel so terrible? Is she coming down with something?

Feeling slightly more stable on her feet, Elly makes her way back into the bedroom and sees another door that she missed earlier. She looks around in confusion. Although the room is comfortable, it is in a minimalist modern style that is the opposite of the opulent luxury of Sylus’s estate and what she remembers of the base at the N109 zone from the game. What happened? Why did they move here? Feeling parched and curious, she tries the door and is surprised to find it locked.

“Sylus? Zayne? What’s going on?” She pounds on the door a couple of times but there is no response. Why did they lock the door? Was there a safety threat? Is that why they are in a new location? Wracking her brain, she vaguely recalls the guard that was guarding the residence wing arriving. He told her he had a message from Sylus, but when she tried to tell him she was going to see Sylus in a second, his face was strangely blank and his movements robotic as he moved toward her. It gets fuzzy after that. 

Unsure and unwilling to risk herself if this is an attempt of the others to keep her safe, she lays back on the bed. Although the dizziness and with it the nausea are a little better, they aren’t gone yet and she closes her eyes in the hope that it goes away soon. The last thing she wants is another trip to worship the porcelain god.

Just as she’s about to fall back to sleep she hears the door open.

“Sylus? Xavier?” She struggles against her drowsiness to sit up. Strong arms reach out to help her into a sitting position.

“Hey, Pipsqueak. I’m happy to see you are finally coming out of it.” The voice is a nice tenor that sounds oddly familiar but it’s not Zayne, Sylus, Xavier, or Rafayel.

“Who…”

“Did you forget me already, Pipsqueak? It hasn’t been that long, has it?” Elly’s heart freezes in her chest and she pulls back to look at him. Only one person ever called MC Pipsqueak. Despite the dim lighting, she can make out the form and face of MC’s childhood companion.

“Caleb? But you blew up!” She blinks at him in disbelief and then finds her eyes tearing up as a tsunami of emotion wells within her. When she played that chapter of the story, her mom had died only a couple of days before, and the wound was still so raw. Seeing MC lose her only family in such a shocking and unexpected way had been overwhelming. Elly had broken down and gone into a deep depression. It took days to come out of it and she almost quit the game. If not for the other love interests she would have, but she was already so attached to them that she couldn’t, so she forced herself to continue with the story. It was like losing her mom all over again. In the end looking for the culprit of the explosion turned out to be almost cathartic. Heart disease has no one to blame.

Now Caleb sits on the bed next to her. She raises a hand and brings it to his cheek. It is recently shaven and smooth. He closes his eyes and tilts his head into her hand. The warmth of his skin hits her and she realizes he’s really here. That, at least while she is in this dream or alternate world, he is alive again. Inexplicably, it makes her feel almost like she’s getting her family back too and she quickly moves past tearing up to full-on sobbing.

Caleb looks surprised and quickly pulls her to him, completely enveloping her in his muscular arms. As he relaxes, he sets his chin on her head. It almost feels like a comforting cocoon. Elly doesn’t know him like she does the other men. Doesn’t have months of connecting and watching memories, so he should be setting off all of her social anxiety and alarm bells. He isn’t. As her tears continue to fall she feels nothing but comfort in his embrace. It’s new but so was the first hug from Rafayel and Xavier. It doesn’t make her any more uncomfortable than those hugs did, which makes no sense.

As his arms tighten around her, Elly is certain that Caleb has held MC in this exact position probably hundreds of times in their lives. She feels a momentary pang. Not even her mom has held her like this since she was a child and towards the end, Elly was the one comforting her mom, carrying the emotional, mental, and financial load for them both. She didn’t realize how much it still weighed on her. For the first time since she lost her mom, she finally lets go. She stops questioning it and lets herself accept the comfort she so desperately needs.

“It’s okay, pipsqueak. I have you. I will always be here to protect you.” His words only make her cry harder. Because she knows that’s not true. She will lose this tenuous connection, the closest thing to a family she has left, once he discovers she isn’t who he thinks she is. Once she gets MC back for him and the other boys. Unaware of her thoughts he hugs her tighter and runs his hands up and down her back until her tears finally start to subside.

“I’m sorry. Now I’m a snotty mess and I got it all over your shirt.” Elly hiccups as she tries to dry her tears as best as she can, looking around for a tissue. Caleb sets her on the bed and climbs up real quick, grabbing a towel from the bathroom and wets it before returning. He sits back down in the same spot. Suddenly she feels her stomach drop like she’s in an elevator, then she rises and floats back onto Caleb’s lap with no apparent cause. Her nausea comes rushing back and she covers her mouth for a second while her stomach settles.

“Please don’t do that again. I’m still nauseous.” He tucks her into him with his right arm.

“Sorry, pipsqueak. I didn’t think.” With his left hand, he starts to dab her face with the cloth. Elly moves to take over, but he moves the cloth out of her reach. “Let me. It’s been a long time since I could take care of you like this.” Elly feels a little odd but allows him to clean her face. She supposes it isn’t that different from Zayne helping MC dry her hair after they get caught in the rain, right? Except she isn’t MC. She pushes that thought down. It feels strangely soothing, allowing him to take care of her.

While her body is being soothed her mind races. She remembers there were rumors that Caleb might return as another love interest. Does Caleb already have a crush on MC, if so, for how long? Did MC have a crush on him before the explosion? Is that why Elly feels so comfortable with him? Maybe she is experiencing some sort of emotional transference by being in MC’s world? She leans back into him as other thoughts begin to occur to her. 

How much does Caleb know about what is going on behind the scenes with Xander Sciences and Ever? Is he connected to them since he is a pilot for the DAA? Does he know that Elly isn’t Eliwyn? Judging by his reaction to her, she doubts he does. She wishes there was a way to find out without alerting him that she isn’t Eliwyn. What will he do if he finds out? She stiffens at the thought.

“Hey, what is it?” He asks, pausing what he is doing. She isn’t sure what is safe to say and pauses before answering.

“What happened, Caleb? How did you survive?” Elly uses one of Sylus’s tricks by answering a question with another question to give herself time to think. It’s also the first thing MC would want to know so it is probably safe. He continues his ministrations. He has already cleaned the majority of her face and has moved to her neck.

“I… almost didn’t.” He finally says softly. “I’m still recovering.” Elly nods. That makes sense.

“Alright. But, how did I get here?” Elly figures that it is also safe to ask as she tries to remember anything past speaking with the guard.

“I rescued you. I thought I had lost you when my men didn’t get to you in time at Akso Hospital,” he pauses and releases a ragged breath. “But you are safe now.” He kisses the top of her head and then seems to freeze. When Elly doesn’t react to the head kiss, he relaxes again. Then something occurs to her.

 “Wait, rescued me from where? The last thing I remember was being safe at the estate!” Elly tries to pull away from Caleb's arm is immovable as steel.

“I rescued you from your abductor. The one who took you from the hospital. I discovered there would be an abduction attempt but we didn’t get there on time.”

“Caleb, we escaped the abductors. You took me away from my protectors.” She looks up at him but can't see much in the dimness.

“He won't protect you. He isn’t who you think he is.” His voice sounds sincere and there isn't enough like to try to guess if he's lying. Not that she has enough experience with him to be able to tell. She has had almost no interaction with Caleb. Just a single phone call, text, and the visit home. Unlike the others. Going off what she knows about the other love interests, she is sure he is lying to MC somehow too. It’s a pattern with all of them. It might just be lying about how he feels but it goes deeper with the other, so surely it does with Caleb as well. He might believe he was saving her from her abductors, but there’s no way to be sure. If it was really that simple, why can’t she remember what happened? Elly keeps her voice even, trying to keep any hint of accusation out of it.

“Caleb, you need to take me back to the estate.”

“No!” The words explode out of Caleb, making Elly flinch. Hurt flashes across his face at her flinch but then the muscles of his arms tense around her. “If I could get to you, he obviously can’t protect you.”

“How did you get to me though? I have no memory of this so-called rescue. Why is that, Caleb?”

“It was the safest way to get you out without getting hurt.” Elly closes her eyes at the realization that she was indeed drugged. She wants to yell at him but doesn’t think it will help so takes a deep breath and tries again.

“There are reasons I need to stay close to them, especially Sylus and Zayne.” In the dim lighting, his eyes are darkened pools. From the way he tenses at their names, Elly realizes she made a mistake.

“No, and that’s final.” Something about the way he is holding himself and the intensity she feels from him reminds Elly of how Xavier looked when she mentioned the other men’s sleeping habits. Her body tries to react the same way it did then, but she ruthlessly shoves that down. She can’t afford to let her guard down until she can confirm he isn't a threat to her. She decides to change tack.

“Caleb, how much do you know about why I was in the hospital?” She asks tentatively. Perhaps if she at least tells him about the health issues, he will listen.

“I heard you had been taken and were held somewhere but escaped, getting injured in the process.” His voice softens at this and he draws her back to him, running his left hand soothingly down her arm.

“There’s more to the story than that. I received multiple injuries, including a head injury among other things. I’m having some issues with my memory, my Evol, and my heart. The manor has a medical facility specially equipped to help me deal with it. I need to go back before it’s too late.” Better to throw the memory thing in there in case she says or does something Eliwyn wouldn’t.

“Don’t worry, pipsqueak. I’ll help you figure it out. And we have the best hospital right here in Skyhaven.” Skyhaven? Where the hell is Skyhaven? Elly racks her brain trying to remember if they mention Skyhaven in the game but can’t.

“A hospital isn’t going to be enough. I need Sylus to…”

“I said no.” Caleb cuts her off before she can finish.

“Caleb, you don’t understand.” She tries again but Caleb stands abruptly with her in his arms. 

“Enough.” He sets her gently on the bed before looking down at her. “I only came in to let you know that I am leaving for work. Right now you need to rest. I will make you braised chicken legs when I get home.” Elly’s eyes widen at this.

“You’re leaving me alone?” Her heart squeezes at the thought. The last time she was left alone was when the kidnapping attempt happened. “Can’t you call out sick? I thought you said you would protect me?”

“No one knows you are here. You’re completely safe. I’ll be back soon.” He turns toward the door. Elly scrambles after him, but she is still too lethargic and dizzy. She hears the lock click before she can get there.

“Caleb! It’s not safe! There’s more going on here than you know! Caleb, please!” She pounds on the door with her fist but there is no response. She tries the handle but sure enough, it’s locked. He didn’t even have the decency to give her the run of the apartment. She looks for some way to turn on the lights but can’t figure out how. The room is still too dim to try to call for Xavier. If he could even hear her. She has no idea where Skyhaven is or how far from Linkon. She can’t even remember if they mentioned it in the game. Her anxiety begins to rise but only slightly. Either her last dose hasn’t worn off completely, or whatever they dosed her with during the “rescue” is helping keep it in check. Thank goodness for small mercies. She searches the room but it is mostly empty. Just the bed. Not even a bedside table or dresser. The bathroom only has the toothbrush and toothpaste she found earlier. There’s nothing for her to use to try to escape.

While she’s looking around, she tries to recall what she can about Caleb from the game. The only thing she remembers is how he seemed to yearn for MC right before the explosion. That was one of the reasons the community thought he would be coming back. That and something the devs said, but she can’t remember what that was. Caleb never said anything to MC about his feelings if she remembers correctly. 

Not that MC is great about expressing her feelings in the game either. Granted, Elly isn’t sure what she would do in Elly’s shoes. Would she be brave enough to tell the men how she feels about them? She’s not sure. Especially because she doesn’t think she could choose between them. Even if she had to. Even the thought of turning away from any of them gives her a stabbing pain in her heart and makes her sick to her stomach. Now there’s the complication of the bond. 

Finding out she could activate the bond was a complete shock. It must have something to do with her connection to Eliwyn. There’s no way the bond is for Elly. Maybe it's because of the timelines being tangled by her arrival in Linkon. Surely, once they find Elly it will prove it's not hers. But Eliwyn's been missing for over a month. Before Elly even arrived. Elly is starting to realize that this might not be a dream. Does she dare allow herself to believe this is real? It will make leaving so much harder knowing she is leaving them behind when she has to return to her world. Just the thought of it feels like her soul is being torn in two. 

There is nothing she can do about any of this until she finds a way out of this room. Restless, she makes another lap as she rubs her sternum slightly. Looking for anything she has missed, but there’s nothing. Still, she’s too restless to lay back down. It’s been a while since she got any exercise and since the movement seems to be helping the foginess and nausea, she jogs in place for a little while. There’s no way to tell how long she tries but it feels like she gets winded much quicker than she should. She tries to tell herself it is just her mind playing tricks because of the news about her heart. With nothing better to do and still feeling groggy, she decides to lie back down.

Just as she’s drifting off she is wrenched awake by a pounding. She’s disoriented for a moment. She can’t tell where the pounding is coming from. At first, she gets excited thinking Sylus or Xavier must have found her, but then she realizes someone is also yelling and she doesn’t recognize the voice. Fear spears through her and she backs up into the darkest corner of the room. A moment later there is a splintering of wood and a crash. Only minutes later someone tries to open her door and, finding it locked, begins pounding.

“Open this door immediately.” The voice is stern and authoritative. She ignores it, hoping they will go away. 

“Either open this door or we will break it down.” They’ve already broken down one door so it isn’t an idle threat. They obviously know someone is in the apartment. Realizing there is no use pretending she isn’t there, she decides it would be better if whoever it is thinks she is cooperating.

“I can’t. I’m locked in.” She tries to make her voice as feeble and frightened as possible. Turns out she doesn’t have to pretend. Her body is already shaking, which can be heard in her voice. She stands up, deciding it is better to face whatever is coming on her feet.

“Stand away from the door.” A moment later, the door crashes open with a splintering sound, making Elly jump and flinch away.

“Eliwyn Read?” A tall, slender man with an anemic aspect steps into the room and spots her in her corner. So much for no one knowing she is here. She nods her head realizing there is probably no point in trying to deny it.

“You are being detained for questioning on the authority of Colonel Heath of the Farspace Fleet.” Elly’s mind begins to race. What is the Farspace Fleet and who is Colonel Heath? She doesn’t remember anything about him from the game. She is way out of her depth at this point. The game didn’t cover any of this. She needs to keep them talking and find a way to gather as much information as possible.

“Prove it.” She says without moving.

“I’m sorry, what?” Even in the dim lighting, Elly can see that the man looks taken aback. Good, keep him off balance. Maybe he will let something slip that she can use. They expected her unquestioning obedience, but that won’t help her find a way to escape or contact the boys. She wishes she had a chance to ask for that cell phone but doubts she would have been allowed to keep it anyway.

“I asked you to prove it. If you are indeed here on behalf of the Farspace Fleet, then surely you have a badge or some form of identification.” The way he almost shakes himself out of his stupor at her request would be comical if she weren’t so frightened. The man removes something from his pocket and steps closer to her, almost cautiously. He shows her a badge. Corporal Anselm, Farspace Fleet. 

Hopefully, it is real. She doesn’t see a badge number like a cop in her world would have, but she doesn’t know anything about how they do things in this one. She memorizes the name in case it’s needed. She would love to ask more questions like what is the Farspace Fleet, but she’s afraid of saying too much and giving away that she isn’t Eliwyn Read. Now if she can just figure out what they want with her.

“Thank you, Corporal. Why am I being brought in for questioning exactly?” She asks without moving closer. She raises her eyebrow and tries her best to impersonate Sylus’s high-handed manner.

“I am sorry ma’am I am not at liberty to say.” 

“Are you telling me the Farspace Fleet is in the habit of detaining people without reason or cause?” Despite her fear, she tries to act disdainful but knows she is probably failing miserably. She’s sure he isn’t impressed but he answers anyway.

“Of course not, ma’am.”

“Then why am I being detained?” she asks again. Trying to keep her breathing steady as her anxiety grows.

“I am sorry ma’am but I am not privy to that information. You will have to ask the Colonel.” His posture is once again ramrod straight, and this time he steps closer to her, gesturing for her to precede him from the room. Realizing she isn’t going to get anything more out of him, Elly decides to cooperate. 

Hopefully, they won’t feel the need to lock her up and she might have a chance to escape. She doesn’t hold out much hope of that, however. Given that she doesn’t even know where Skyhaven is, much less how to reach out to the guys. When she gets back to her men, she is going to make sure they show her how everything works in this world. And how to defend herself. She is tired of needing to be rescued.

Chapter Text

Caleb

Skyhaven-X02

Zero-Gravity Chamber

23th Neural Control Experiment

Pain burns through every nerve ending, every synapse. It’s unrelenting. Excruciating. A fresh wave of electricity hits him and every muscle in his body seizes and contracts as the equivalent of lightning roars through his system. He grits his teeth and tries to hold back the primal roar as the pain engulfs him once more.

Caleb struggles to maintain consciousness. Not because he knows if he passes out before the neural graft completes its cycle it will have to be rerun. Not because he has already endured hours of unending agony as the scientists seek to merge his human physiology with the cybernetics of his prosthetic. It’s because no one else ever has completed integration without having to redo a cycle at least once. No one has achieved one hundred percent integration either. Caleb will do both. He barely holds on and his vision begins to tunnel. Only the steel of his will, honed through years of discipline and restraint and months of painful rehab keeps him upright.

It’s a torturous process. Building connections between his biology and the mechanical hardware of his prosthetic. Rebuilding the nerves from where he lost his arm. It is worth it. Worth any cost. Especially now. Now that she is his again. Whatever he has to do to keep her safe, to keep her here, he will do. The pain is a tool that teaches him not to fail again. Next time he will be faster. Because it might have been her standing next to him that fateful day. 

He’d had to make a split-second decision. He might have been able to save Grandma. But only if he had been willing to gamble with Elly’s life. That wasn’t a chance he could take. So, he chose to send as much of the blast away from Elly as he could in the split second he had. He knows he made the right decision. There was never and will never be any other option or alternative. Her life is more important than everyone’s, including his own. And he will do whatever it takes to protect her. A loud shrill tone sounds throughout the chamber signaling the end of the current cycle.

“Begin again.” Each successful cycle increases his integration with the arm. The scientists think they are close to full integration. He must gain full control. A voice comes over the comms before the next cycle can stop.

“Lieutenant Colonel, I have that information you requested.” Caleb pauses for a brief moment.

“Thank you, Sergeant, I will be right out.” Finally, he will find out who ordered the botched kidnapping attempt. They are a threat to Elly and need to be neutralized. Luckily Caleb had been with Dr. Lucius when the news arrived of the poorly planned abduction attempt. Thank goodness someone on Ever’s administrative staff noticed the discretionary spending discrepancy from a recent acquisition of theirs. Dr. Lucius sent a squad of men to guarantee Elly didn’t fall into anyone else’s hands. Caleb may have been lying to Elly when he said it was his men who didn’t reach her in time, but she didn’t need to know that. He had no control over the team, they were selected by Colonel Heath at Lucius’s command.

Caleb, however, knew he couldn’t let Lucius get his hands on Elly yet. He had planned how to “rescue” her from Lucius’s men once they extracted her from the hospital. Before Lucius could stash her somewhere Caleb couldn’t reach her. It had been easy to insert those bombs into the vehicles they planned to use as they prepared to move out. He was the Lieutenant Colonel, after all. It was even easier to detonate them from afar once he realized Elly was not with them. He couldn’t chance the bombs being found and linked back to him. A necessary evil to cover his tracks. Now the men and the vehicles were being taken care of by Onychinus and Caleb’s hands were clean.

At Dr. Lucius’s urging Caleb immediately put his plans in motion to discredit the current commander of the fleet. Heath thinks his position is safe but he is about to find out otherwise. The Fleet already has Dr. Lucius’s recommendation to elevate Caleb if a spot opens, but there isn’t an open position. Caleb needs to make one. The fallout from that should hit any day now. There were already grumblings. He also began an unofficial investigation into the person behind the original abduction attempt that started the whole thing. Now he has all the information he needs. 

Of course, the extraction wasn’t successful and Dr. Lucius lost her. Instead, she had been whisked out of Dr. Lucius’s reach. But not Caleb’s. Little did the crime lord know he had done Caleb a favor by thwarting Dr. Lucius and taking Elly into his safe house. Now Sylus gets the blame and Caleb could rescue Elly quietly with no chance of it being tracked back to him.

Since his supposed death Caleb has kept a close watch on Elly. Once he had recovered enough to do so anyway. When she disappeared into the N109 zone several months ago and he had no way to track her or guarantee her safety he found that was unacceptable. It was the longest week of his life and it was never going to happen again. Or so he thought when he set his contingencies in place. When he realized that she was continuing to visit the N109 zone and who she was visiting he expanded his operation and increased his number of contingencies with added insurance to make sure once he was part of Elly’s life again he could take the crime lord off the board completely if necessary.

Over a month ago, when she disappeared again, Caleb had gone insane looking for her. At first, he blamed Sylus, the leader of Onychinus but strangely the information he was getting said the enigmatic leader was just as frustrated as Caleb was, which Caleb found alarming. He had used every avenue at his disposal but had been unable to locate any information. He knew where she had last been seen, and had the footage to prove it. But after that, it’s like she vanished off the face of the earth. Having her pop up suddenly at Akso hospital had been both a relief and torture. She was severely injured based on her medical records and Caleb wasn’t able to protect her or take care of her. Now that she is safe with him, he can’t let anything like that happen again. No matter what he has to do. Or who he has to kill.

It had taken no time at all to activate the two of his assets that were stationed at the safe house with Elly. With a flip of a switch, his plan was in motion. They just had to wait for the best opportunity and signal him once they were ready to execute the rescue. He made sure his assets prioritized her safety above all else. Of course, his assets had to be abandoned. They had served their purpose and outlived their usefulness. Let the criminal take care of them for him. Caleb already made sure Onychinus wouldn’t find any useful intelligence from them. He doubts they still know their own names.

 Entering the lab he heads to the showers. He is methodical in his routine. No movement or effort is wasted. Ten minutes later he walks briskly out of the lab, fully showered and suited up in his uniform, biomimetic sleeve in place. He either ignores or no longer notices as everyone in the room stands a little taller. Anyone looking at him would not be able to tell that he has just spent the last two hours in incredible pain. Not a twitch or expression betrays him.

Seeing the lead scientist he converses quietly about his progress and how many more sessions they think it will take. Similar to an after-action debrief. He listens intently, giving the scientist his full attention and respect. He has learned just what to say, how much deference to show, and to whom, to get what he wants. In this case, maintaining the scientist's respect and cooperation is the best way to complete the process as quickly and efficiently as possible. It has already gone on far longer than he had hoped.

With a polite nod to the medical and scientific personnel, he heads outside to the waiting aircraft. His Sergeant falls into step beside him. Once they have both entered the rear of the aircraft and the pilot has taken off, Sergeant Mallory hands over his tablet. It confirms who requested the first kidnapping attempt. Planning to interview the culprit Caleb frowns at a notification from his security system. He opens it and his heart stops. Quickly pulling up his internal cameras he discovers the front door and the room he left Elly in have both been broken down. He is about to send new coordinates to the pilot to check on her when he receives orders from his commanding officer to arrive.

It is a summons to the starship. Caleb frowns. The chain of events he set in motion shouldn’t be completed for a couple more days so it can’t be about his elevation. Tapping it for more information he discovers it’s a summons to participate in an interrogation. He opens the attached file and his heart freezes then begins to speed, but he allows no outward sign of distress in his expression or demeanor. 

Even without the interrogation subject’s name he recognizes the case number immediately. It should be impossible for the fleet to have her in custody. It is too soon. His original plan for the interview to occur shortly after his elevation to Colonel when he has overarching authority and access and can sabotage the empathic monitoring equipment in the interrogation room is compromised and will have to be scrubbed. If he tries he will play right into his opposition's hands. He can’t afford that. His mind races with ideas and plans. For the time being he needs to maintain his position and standing in the fleet. That doesn’t mean he can’t find another way to protect her. Always decisive, Caleb quickly settles on a plan and sends several holo messages. One quick altered line of code inserted into the files and they will show the time stamp they were sent was the moment he took Elly into his custody. Perhaps he could kill two birds with one stone.

 Putting his fear for her safety aside for the moment, since he is unable to do more until they arrive, he turns his mind to the problem of how they found her. It shouldn’t be possible. He piloted the aircraft and lifted her from the roof using his Evol. The only other people involved were his assets on the ground, which by now the criminal should have taken care of. He was cautious of surveillance and stayed out of camera view, even once in Skyhaven. He begins some digital hunting while they finish the flight to the command center. Once they have docked with the starship he immediately exits and heads to the Colonel’s office as ordered.

“Colonel Heath.” Caleb salutes with the exact amount of deference and respect required but not an iota more. In this case, unlike the scientists, his respect is completely for show. The colonel is a brute who uses blunt force tactics even when a delicate hand is needed. He has grown smug and complacent in his authority and sees Caleb as a threat to his position both within the fleet and with Dr. Lucius. He thinks he’s above Caleb because he has the backing of Dr. Lucius. Heath doesn’t know Dr. Lucius no longer cares what happens to him now that Caleb’s modification is proving successful. 

Caleb’s meteoric rise in the Farspace fleet ranks is the fastest in the history of the fleet. His record is completely spotless. Unsullied by any hint of corruption scandal, bribery, or nepotism. He has been incredibly lucky, or unlucky depending on how you look at it, to be involved in several harrowing missions in the Deepspace Tunnel where he not only survived but managed to turn the circumstances in the Fleet’s favor, coming out the victor with new patrol paths mapped, ship intact, and all hands healthy and accounted for. 

Colonel Heath resents the attention and accolades Caleb has rightfully earned. After all, Caleb might have taken advantage of the situations when they arose; he did not orchestrate them. The Deepspace Tunnel is too unpredictable to take those sorts of chances with. It was only through his own determination and quick thinking that he survived those encounters let alone led the crew to safety.

“Lt. Colonel.” There is a sly, smug grin on the Colonel's face as he gives the barest form of a salute possible in return. “You have arrived just in time. The subject has had several hours to sweat, or should I say freeze, and should be ready to cooperate.” Colonel Heath snickers and looks expectantly as if waiting for a reaction from Caleb. Caleb doesn’t respond or react in any way. Internally he is seething at the way the Colonel has insinuated she is being treated and planning various and creative ways for the bastard to die, but none of that shows on his face. His mask is perfect. When the colonel doesn’t get a response from Caleb his face twists with malice and he keys something into his holo before standing. Caleb wonders how the man ever rose to a position of power. He has the subtlety of a charging rhino.

“Follow me.” There is a sinister look in Heath’s eyes that Caleb doesn’t like and he wonders who or what the colonel just contacted. They quickly head toward Incident Room 005. Caleb slightly to the left and behind Colonel Heath as is appropriate for their respective ranks. The colonel grunts but doesn’t otherwise acknowledge him.

They arrive quickly since Starship Binsha, while large, isn’t as big as the Admiral’s dreadnought, Windfall. Caleb moves to open the door and Colonel Heath enters, then looks back at Caleb with malicious anticipation. Caleb’s gut clenches. He knows he’s not going to like whatever the colonel has planned. He has to trust that his messages will have an impact and that Elly is smart and doesn’t get riled. As cute as he finds her temper he knows the fleet won’t have any patience with it.

Reluctantly Caleb enters the room and stops. Standing in the shadows behind the colonel is Corporal Cassius. The one man Caleb doesn’t want to be included in any interrogation, let alone Elly’s. If the colonel is a brute, Cassius is a sadist. His love of inflicting pain is well known in the fleet. Whether with his fists or his Evol. Caleb’s heart lurches and his temperature wants to rise but he maintains his equanimity with ruthless determination. 

For the first time, Caleb begins to worry he might not be able to get Elly out of this while keeping his position intact. He knows if he has to choose, he will choose her over the rest of the world and damn the consequences. At least they don’t know who Elly is to him. Even though they found her in his home they have no way of knowing why she was there. One of the first things he did when he joined the fleet was to scrub any proof of their connection. There aren’t even any documents that show them as ever having lived at the same address anymore, let alone that they grew up together.

Preparing for the worst, Caleb allows the darkness that always dwells within him to take over. No matter how this unfolds he is prepared to do what he must. Even if it scares Eliwyn. Even if it turns her against him. Anything is better than losing her permanently. At least if she is alive he can try to win her back.

Another part of his brain is cataloging every offense against Elly that has been mentioned so far and keeping track of any new ones for later retaliation. With interest. The rest of his focus is on Elly. Even from here, he can see she is shaking, sweating, and not breathing normally. She wasn’t like this earlier, or he would never have left, but that was almost 4 hours ago. What have they done to her? Whatever they have done, he will find out and make sure they pay. Not a hint of his thoughts shows on his expressionless face however. He always was an accomplished liar.

“Corporal, you may begin.” Colonel Heath indicates to the equipment. Corporal Cassius turns on the bank of sensors and computing equipment, including the recording equipment. Caleb waits patiently with a disinterested expression on his face until the cameras are recording everything, including everything in the observation room. Then he turns to the Colonel. He is careful to keep his voice even, almost bored.

“Sir, I recommend that a fleet doctor assess the subject before the interview to ensure their medical condition is properly evaluated. The individual has a documented history of a heart condition and is displaying clear signs of medical distress. I was also unable to find confirmation that they had been discharged from Akso Hospital before taking them into custody so they may still need hospitalization. I submitted a request this morning for a medical evaluation before performing an interview to ensure their well-being. This complies with Fleet guidelines.” 

A look of confusion and uncertainty flitted across Colonel Heath’s face but was immediately replaced with a sneer. 

“Request denied.” The words drip with smug superiority. Another grievance to add to the list.

“Sir, this precaution also serves to protect the fleet from any liability should the subject’s condition worsen. Given their medical history and the nature of their current employer, it is wise to proceed carefully and ensure all necessary precautions are taken.”

“I am aware of who her employer is. Corporal, proceed.” With a sneer, the Colonel gestures to Cassius who finishes setting up the equipment and flips open the communication system. Knowing there is nothing more he can do at that moment without betraying his feelings for Elly or severing his allegiance to the fleet, Caleb readies himself for whatever he is required to do to protect her. It isn’t yet time to reveal his hand, but he will if he must. He will burn the world down if that’s what it takes to protect her.

***

Elly

Shivering in the cold air of the interrogation room, Elly huddles in a corner of the room. She is still in the loungewear she was wearing when “rescued” by Caleb. The pants pockets aren’t enough to keep her hands warm so she has them tucked into her armpits. The room is lit by a glaring light that keeps her from being able to nap. Not that resting was likely, to begin with. She has been here long enough that her heart rate and breathing have returned close to normal. Her mind has been spinning on ways to escape but she just doesn’t know enough. She tried calling for Xavier but no response. She isn’t sure if that is something he can really do or if he said it as a joke but she is willing to try anything. No response of course.

If she’s honest with herself she is amazed she isn’t in full-on panic attack mode right now. So many things have happened that it all feels surreal. Like it’s happening to someone else almost. Even though she is huddled in this tiny room freezing her ass off, it doesn’t feel real. She just feels numb. If she is going to wake up, now is a good time. Unfortunately, she is starting to believe this is not a dream. Wouldn’t she have woken up already if it were? 

When Officer Anselm left her, she tried to tell him that she needed her anxiety medication but he ignored her. Time seemed to crawl and at first, she paced the room in an attempt to stay warm but when that didn’t work she crouched to try to preserve as much body heat as possible. That’s not working either. Suddenly there’s a pop and feedback like a speaker turning on. A harsh voice comes over the intercom. Raising her head she notices there is a light on behind what she thought was an opaque panel that she now realizes is one-way glass. She can see three silhouettes but that is all. No other defining details.

“Please take a seat.” The voice is cold but sounds eerily excited. It sends a shiver down Elly’s spine that has nothing to do with the cold. She considers ignoring it but decides against it. There is something very unsettling about that voice.

“Why have you brought me here?” She asks, without moving closer to the chair.

“I said take a seat. You will not be asked again.” The voice brooks no argument. Although Elly is tempted to keep insisting, she doubts it will have any impact other than a negative one. The last thing she should do is give them an excuse. She needs to be smart. She doesn’t know how much they know so she needs to assume they know nothing unless they can prove otherwise. She climbs to her feet and walks to the chair then sits down. It is uncomfortable, probably on purpose. The moment she is in place restraints suddenly envelop her arms and legs.

“What is this? Why am I here? I have rights!” At least, she hopes she has rights. She tugs at the restraints, panic making her voice sound shrill. The numbness that has kept her mostly calm begins to dissipate. As it does, her heart rate starts to climb upward much faster than earlier and her heart clenches. Her medication and whatever sedative Caleb used on her has worn off. She begins counting her breaths and extending her exhale in an attempt to stave off an anxiety attack. What happens if she has another attack without anyone to help her or stop her?

“This is the Farspace Fleet Office of Criminal Investigation. You are being detained in accordance with Article 906(β) and retain said rights.” This is a new voice. It’s a slightly higher timbre and sounds vaguely familiar but she can’t tell from where. Maybe it's the same as one of the game NPCs? This person sounds completely indifferent. Almost bored as though they are reading verbatim from an instruction manual. 

Unfortunately for Elly, she has no idea what Article 906(β) is. At least she’s seen enough cop shows that she knows what rights are typically given and hopes they apply in this case or she’s screwed. She’s probably screwed anyway. Where the hell did Caleb go? How did this Farspace Fleet thing even find out where she was? She had expected Ever, not this. The detached voice continues.

“This interrogation will be conducted using state-of-the-art empathic equipment to detect lies. You will also be monitored and inspected by the security equipment.” So she’s being recorded. Thank you, Mr. Indifferent. Okay, be smart Elly. She tells herself. If what they are saying is true and the equipment has some sort of empathic ability, they can read her emotions. Does that mean they can tell if she’s lying? Her emotions are already all over the place and it feels as though the air is slowly escaping the room which is never a good sign. Come on, you can do this. Stick to the truth as you, not Eliwyn know it. First, warn them of the Evol. Maybe if they think you are cooperating they will listen.

“I need medical assistance before we proceed.” Elly fights to remain calm and keep her breathing somewhat steady. “I was attacked recently and my heart and Evol have become erratic and it is dangerous for me to be without my anxiety medication. My anxiety might also skew the results of your “empathic” system.” That sounds reasonable, right?  

“Request denied.” Elly gasps and her heart lurches in her chest. Something about this third voice reminds her of the mean and angry tone that Paul spoke to her with that final night. The night all of this began. Suddenly her heart is pounding and she feels a little dizzy. For a moment she feels like she is back behind the store that night. She barely registers it when the light goes out behind the glass. She closes her eyes and tries to breathe through the panic. It’s not him, Elly. Probably just some asshole that likes intimidating people.

At the whoosh of the somatic door she opens her eyes as three men, in what she has come to know as Farspace Fleet uniforms, enter. The first is big and looming with a row of medals on his chest and a scowl that looks like it’s permanently affixed to his face. Elly shrinks back from him instinctively. The next man is tall and slender and there is something sinister about the small smile he wears. His uniform is similar but there are no medals and fewer symbols. She’s trying so hard to keep her breath steady and her heart rate under control that she doesn’t even react when the final man enters and is revealed to be none other than Caleb, also in a Farspace Fleet uniform. He has more symbols than the scary guy, but fewer than the bulky one. His face is completely blank and she realizes it was his voice warning her that she was being recorded and the equipment is empathic.

“State your name,” says the second man. Smiling eerily, his blonde hair peeks out from his uniform cap. Despite feeling like there isn’t enough oxygen in the room she manages to at least breathe enough to speak, although her breath is hardly back to normal.

“I would like to request medical intervention.” She manages to get out between gasps.

“She is clearly faking it. Continue.” The scowling man responds with obvious authority. Elly can’t look at him for fear it will make her anxiety even worse. Please let me just get through this interview. She pleads silently. Since they are ignoring her obvious signs of distress she figures it will be best to respond to any questions they have. If she doesn’t it’s likely to make things worse. The second man goes to a desk and removes a collar and some sort of wand or baton. Although she tries to pull away he places the collar around her neck. He then holds the wand threateningly at her.

“I said, state your name.” The sinister man repeats.

“They call me Elly.” There, that’s the truth. Although if the equipment is empathic she’s not sure if it matters given the level of her anxiety which is only climbing.

“Your legal name.” There is no mistaking the sneer in the big man’s voice.

“Do you mean the name they have on file for my recent inpatient stay at Akso Hospital?”

“Yes.” He says shortly with a huff of impatience. Elly focuses on a spot on the wall, refusing to look at the two men and afraid to look at Caleb for fear of giving something away. If he’s being silent and not helping her, surely there’s a reason. From the hints he was giving her in the other room, she assumes he is trying to help somehow. At least, if he is a love interest and not coming back as a villain, which their conversation in his house leads her to believe. She hopes that he is prevented from overtly helping somehow. That it is some sort of story constraint or a misunderstanding. Or possibly even a misstep similar to the ones Sylus made when MC first entered the N109 zone. 

“Eliwyn Read.” There that is the truth since that is what they had her under. Gods this is going to be difficult.

“Is it true you are employed by the Hunter’s Association?” The thin man takes over the interrogation. That creepy smile is still on his face. Elly doesn’t respond immediately. She is technically, right? They put Eliwyn on medical leave based on Elly’s medical condition so as far as this world is concerned she is employed by them until they find Eliwyn.

“Yes, I, as Eliwyn Read, am employed by the Hunter’s association.” Elly hopes there is enough truth in how she phrases that response. Out of the corner of her eye, Elly sees the big man giving a nod to the creepy guy. Surprisingly, having to concentrate on how she’s answering the questions is helping with her anxiety. Maybe she will actually make it through this without her Evol going off. She glances at Caleb for a second but he is as inscrutable as ever, giving nothing away.

“Recently there was a large energy explosion in the N109 zone related to an Aether core. At that time you disappeared without a trace and didn’t check in with any organization. But you weren’t punished upon your return. Our intel suggests you were in the N109 zone.” Elly frowns. Was this when MC went to the N109 zone? Is that why all this is happening? Why is she being interrogated?

“Answer me.” He takes the wand thing and pokes Elly in her shoulder. She gets a static shock from the contact and flinches.

“You didn’t ask a question,” Elly says through gritted teeth, trying to play for more time.

“Were you in the N109 zone?” The thin man’s lip curls slightly. Elly feels a moment of relief.

“No, I’ve never been to the N109 zone.” She says honestly. Something flickers in Caleb’s eyes at her words but his face remains expressionless. She doubts anyone else caught it and his back is to the only camera she can see. Thankfully the manor they retreated to was outside Linkon and Sylus didn’t take her back to his base when they escaped the kidnappers so she doesn’t even have to worry about how she phrases her response.

“What do you want with an Aethercore?” The blond man pushes her again. Harder this time and Elly receives a bigger shock.

“I have never seen an Aether core with my own eyes.” She says honestly. She can’t say she’s never heard of them.

“Did you come to Skyhaven looking for an Aethercore?” She grunts and spasms as the sadistic blond administers an even bigger shock. For the first time, Elly realizes the shock isn’t coming from the baton itself. She can actually see the little arcs of electricity begin along his arm and travel down his hand to arc from the baton into her. Instead of moving it back after the initial shock, he holds the wand against her shoulder and the pain is continuous. Her heart flutters erratically in her chest and what little calm she has regained disappears as she is swamped by fear of how it’s affecting her heart. Afraid he won’t stop until she answers, she grits the words out between panting and gasping as her vision blurs slightly.

“No, I didn’t… want to… come to Skyhaven… I was brought here... I need my doctor... Zayne Li.” She can barely form coherent thoughts at this point.

“Please… stop… My heart…” Despite her vision going dark around the edges and her shortness of breath, she is concentrating on her body, on her heart so hard that for the first time Elly feels it as her body begins vibrating almost imperceptibly. It’s unlike anything she has ever felt and yet somehow is almost completely masked by the jittery feeling her anxiety gives her until it is almost indistinguishable underneath it. Is this her Evol? It is so subtle she’s not sure she isn’t imagining it in her pain-filled haze. Even as she tries to get her body under control her anxiety spirals higher and the underlying vibrations grow stronger until it almost feels like she is coming apart at the seams.

Fear lances through her as she realizes she is seconds away from losing control of her Evol. The same rushing sound from before fills her ears and senses. The continuous electric shock begins to increase. From somewhere there is an odd beeping, almost like an alarm. Caleb’s mouth is moving but she can’t hear anything.

The blond removes the baton from her shoulder but the electricity continues to arc into her unfettered as her body begins twitching and spasming uncontrollably from the electrical current. Desperately she tries to rein it in, but she can’t focus. Can’t breathe. A part of her realizes she feels lighter, almost buoyant, then her stomach lurches like she’s in an elevator again. Suddenly she is no longer sitting in the chair. She is floating slightly above it. Only the restraints on her arms and legs keep her from floating away. Then the two officers lift off the ground. Caleb’s eyes widen in surprise but he manages to maintain his footing. The man in charge's mouth is moving and he’s grappling for his sidearm, but Elly still can’t hear anything. Can’t feel anything but the pain. Mere seconds have passed but it feels like an eternity.

Electricity is now arcing from the soldier to Elly in thick ribbons. The size and strength increasing exponentially. Everyone suddenly begins to jerk and spasm as the electricity that Elly is absorbing bursts from her, spreading outward in an unending wave. Her attention is focused on the commander who has managed to remove his gun from his holster.

Elly tries to keep her focus on the gun but the pain ratchets higher until she is in unendurable agony. Worse than anything she has ever felt. Her heart stutters fitfully like a dying engine. Elly prays for unconsciousness. Anything to stop the agony. As her awareness finally recedes she hears a shot go off and feels her heart stutter to a halt but feels nothing but relief as darkness claims her.

Chapter Text

Sylus

“Luke, I need that network!” Sylus’s speaks into his phone, voice is flat and focused as he bursts through the doors of the clinic and runs flat out toward the end of the hall and the dark, misshapen form of Mephisto that lies bent and broken on the tile floor. Sylus can feel the Lemurian on his heels but doesn’t hear any footfalls on the tiled floor. A part of Sylus's consciousness that is always hyper aware of everything going on around him, always analyzing and calculating probabilities and outcomes, is mildly impressed. Looks like Fishboy has some skills. The pieces are starting to fall into place regarding the artist, but Sylus doesn’t dwell on them now. Zayne brings up the rear, but not by much.

“Working on it, boss.” Frustration laces the response, accompanied by a grunt of pain from the other end of the line. Sylus pauses. At this point, the hall divides. Forward, through the doors, leads to the residential wing that Sylus has set up. To the right is the main floor and front entryway, while to the left are the kitchens, rear entry, and roof access.

“Work faster. Elly went somewhere with a guard. I need to know where.” Sylus knew they wouldn’t head toward the residential area. There are no access or egress points other than through this corridor. That is why he chose it. The front entry has the most visible security, so they are unlikely to try to take her out that way. Instead, he heads in the other direction. They will either try to take her out the back, thinking incorrectly that it isn’t being as heavily guarded, or to the roof. Without a word or whisper of sound, the artist follows. Sylus feels a momentary twinge at leaving Mephisto but knows time is of the essence. He can go back for him after they save Elly.

Pausing again when they reach the stairwell, Sylus reviews the probabilities, debating whether to head down to the rear exit or up to the roof. He has hidden forces that most of the guards are unaware of in the rear, along with some unpleasant surprises. On the roof, he has aerial surveillance and anti-aircraft turrets. Luckily those are still functioning, even with the network off-line. The turrets are not manually controlled. They are each individually connected, one per camera, and set up with smart technology to target unapproved aircraft or an incursion force. Each turret and camera is set up with battery backup so a network malfunction or power loss won’t affect them. Either way, it will be difficult to leave without setting off the defenses.

“The roof. It has a blind spot.” Rafayel huffs out as he runs past Sylus and heads up the stairs. 

“There shouldn’t be,” Sylus growls and immediately follows, his instincts telling him to trust the other man’s judgment. If there is a blind spot, there will be hell to pay. The security measures Sylus approved had no such thing. He vaults up the stairs two at a time and pulls even with Rafayel. Zayne is close behind them. Not at all out of breath, despite running up stairs, but nowhere near as quiet as the artist. Not bad for a doctor. When they reach the final floor, Rafayel taps Sylus on the arm and wordlessly turns down a hall and into a room instead of heading up the final flight of stairs to the main roof deck.

There is a dormer window at an awkward location close to an interior wall. Rafayel heads unerringly toward it, Sylus and Zayne close behind. He opens the window and steps out onto a narrow outer walkway, bordered by wrought Iron cresting. He leads Sylus a couple of steps toward the left where it opens up into a relatively small flat area where the two wings meet. Standing utterly still in the back corner is one of Sylus’s guards. His face is an expressionless mask, eyes unfocused. Since he is in the lead, Rafayel has his knife in his hand instantly and presses it against the man's neck.

“Where is she?” The painter’s voice is low and deadly. The man doesn’t respond verbally, and his face remains slack, but his eyes, which had been staring blankly forward, slowly shift to stare straight up. Sylus follows the guard's gaze, and his heart leaps into his throat. Elly floats almost 150 feet in the air. Although there is a visible line on her, Sylus can see there is slack in the line, so that is not how she is being lifted. Since he can see no other means by which she continues to rise, it must be an Evol.

Automatically, Sylus attempts to shift out his wings to reach her, but as has happened every time he has tried since his imprisonment, the suppressor prevents him from shifting his form. He growls in frustration as Elly is drawn the last few feet. He knows he can hit it without hitting her, even at this distance, but he can’t take any chance of it crashing with her inside. None of the others even attempt to bring down the aircraft.

“Luke, how is that network coming?” Sylus asks into his phone as Elly is pulled into the aircraft and the door closes. There is no visual on the pilot or any other personnel. The aircraft itself is unmarked and unremarkable. Most aircraft have the hover ability these days, and some are even convertible to ground vehicles. Although, this one doesn’t look like it is one of those. It is several years old, and any identifying information has been removed or covered.

“Just got it back, boss.”

“Do not target the aircraft directly above my location. I need you to tag it if possible and track it if it isn’t. Elly is on board. We need to know where they take her.” Even at this distance, Sylus can hear when the engines of the aircraft change timbre and it begins to lift vertically until it is obscured by clouds, where Sylus loses it almost instantly.

“Tell me you were able to tag it.”

“Negative, boss. It’s possible they saw the tracker coming.” Or they knew what to expect, thanks to their insider knowledge.

“Are you able to track it?” While he is having this conversation, one part of his psyche, the larger part, is calculating likely trajectories and destinations.

“No, I lost it. It must have some sort of stealth technology.” Unfortunately, without the tracker or at least a direction. Sylus doesn’t have enough information to determine likely destinations. He hangs up and dials a different number.

“What’s wrong?” Xavier answers immediately. Sylus isn’t surprised at the question. He would wonder the same thing if he received a call from Xavier.

“Elly’s been taken. Unmarked aircraft. Can you track her?” Sylus’s voice is tight but not panicked. Not yet.

“Give me a minute.” The line disconnects. Since the network is back up, Sylus contacts Luke using his implant.

“Were deadly measures required to take back the network?” Sylus questions, eying the guard who is once more looking directly ahead. 

“No. That’s the weird thing, boss. He fought like a gods damned demon to keep me away from the computers and then it was like someone turned off the lights. He went completely limp. No fight at all.”

“We are heading back down. Have Kieran bring him to the underground garage. Have the rest of the crew checked.”

“No, have him meet us in the hospital suite.” Zayne corrects. Sylus looks back at the doctor to discover he has moved Rafayel aside and is testing the guard's response to stimuli. There is a line of blood along the guard's neck. Rafayel’s knife, still in his hand, has a tinge of red along the edge. The wound is deep enough to send a message but not cause fatal damage.

“Did you hear that?”

“Yes. What am I looking for?” Luke’s dubiousness comes across the line. Sylus wishes he knew.

“Anyone in a state of Catatonia,” Zayne responds. 

“A what, boss?” Luke questions.

“Anyone acting like a vegetable.” Sylus translates into layman's terms for his subordinate. Zayne leads the guard back the way they came.

“Get the jet ready.”

“Where to, boss?”

“I don’t know yet.” Sylus barely keeps the frustration out of his voice. Unable to do more, he turns his mind to the other issue brought up by this turn of events.

A glance at the turret configuration confirms that Rafayel is correct. This is a blind spot. The turrets that should have covered this part of the roof were shifted slightly when they were installed so this small roof platform and the area directly above it are in the clear. Not that Elly would have had to worry. Sylus always enters Eliwyn’s information as approved personnel at every safe house he creates, regardless of where in the world it is located or how unlikely it is that she will ever need it. 

Since Elly is biologically and physically identical to Eliwyn that means she also has the same protection. Sylus frowns at the thought. He never confirmed if Elly and Eliwyn have the same fingerprints. Although most of his safe houses are now voice-activated, he does have fingerprint access as a backup in case the twins or Eliwyn were ever unable to speak but needed shelter. Since even identical twins don’t share the same fingerprints it is unlikely Eliwyn and Elly do. He will need an updated set for her. Something to get from Zayne when he has a moment.

Even though this is a new safe house he purchased and equipped after they rescued Elly, Sylus immediately puts through a request to check all of his safe houses and have the security measures confirmed by the twins. Starting with the two they are most likely to retreat to once they get Elly back. They are the only ones he can trust at this point. If his organization has been compromised, he cannot take any chances. He may need to pull his men out of this location completely until he can confirm their loyalty. He shakes his head. 

It is unlikely that bribery was used. Part of Sylus’s operating procedure incentivizes his men to report any bribery attempts. Once they provide proof of the bribery Sylus pays that employee double the bribe as a reward for their loyalty. Sylus will need to figure out what type of leverage is being employed to turn his men. He sends a message to Luke to check if these men have next of kin or other family listed in their employment records. Perhaps they were being coerced.

“Come on, Rafayel. We’re not doing her any good standing around out here.” The Lemurian is staring up at the spot where the aircraft disappeared with a lost look on his face. 

“She discovered the bond.” Sylus stops cold and glowers at the other man. Rafayel’s eyes are glassy as he finally lowers his gaze to meet Sylus’s, blinking his eyes rapidly. 

“I thought you weren’t going to tell her?” Sylus affects a mocking nonchalance that he is far from feeling. Rafayel huffs out a pained laugh and shakes his head in response.

“She figured it out. That’s why she wanted a few minutes alone. To process. If I had only stayed with her…” Rafayel’s voice trails off. Pain to match Sylus’s own is mirrored in the blue and pink depths. “I can’t lose her again.” Sylus feels the weight of ages in those beautiful eyes and realizes he and the Lemurian have more in common than he thought. Without thinking Sylus grabs the other man by the back of his neck, pulling him close.

“We won’t. You know as well as I, if they hadn’t gotten her now they would have found a way. This way they have exposed weaknesses we didn’t know about. We learn from this so when we get her back…”

“If.” The word comes out broken.

“When!” Sylus emphasizes, his hands wrap around the back of Rafayel’s neck, pulling the other man closer until their foreheads almost touch. As though the contact with the other man is a connection to Elly. Because, in a way, it is. “When we get her back. We make sure no one can ever take her from us again.” Their eyes meet, carmine and blue pink. Sylus watches the other man pulls himself back from the despair that’s trying to overtake him. Watches as Rafayel recognizes a similar struggle in Sylus’s eyes. Then nods in recognition before standing back. Sylus drops his hands, and they head back in, only to grab his phone as it rings.

“She’s still moving, but I think I know where they’re headed based on current trajectory and elevation, provided they don’t deviate. Skyhaven.” Sylus’s heart sinks, even as he sends the destination to his pilot. Ever practically built that city. Not to mention every tech, pharmaceutical, and bioengineering company on the continent has their headquarters in Skyhaven. It could be any of them, but knowing Eliwyn’s history with Ever, Sylus knows who he is betting on being behind it.

“We’ll meet you at the airfield north of Linkon.” Sylus releases the call. He and Rafayel enter through the window and break into a run back the way they came. Sylus uses his Evol to collect Mephisto as they run past, heading back to the hospital wing. Zayne is speaking with Yvonne and Dr. Greyson and gesturing to the guard from the roof. Another man is standing next to him, looking just as blank.

“They’re taking her Skyhaven. We’re heading to the airport. I will update you as soon as we have more information, Doc.” Sylus tells Zayne before turning back around.

“I have connections in Skyhaven. I’m coming with you.” Is all the dark-haired man says. Sylus raises an eyebrow but seeing the determination in Zayne’s face, Sylus doesn’t try to dissuade him. Zayne turns back to say something to Yvonne and Greyson before turning to Sylus and gesturing for him to lead the way. Sylus can’t see how the doctor’s presence will make a difference but understands his need to be there. It won’t hurt to have the doctor along, given the recent health concerns regarding Elly’s heart. Who knows what state they will find her in.

“Luke, Kieran, we’re leaving. While I’m gone, I want you to review and correct the security plans for the estate. If we end up coming back I want this location secure. I’ll review the plans for the Skyhaven safe house on the plane and once we arrive. I don’t want any damned surprises or blind spots.”

“Yes,” Kieran starts.

“Boss,” Luke finishes.

“I need to get something.” Rafayel pauses at the corridor leading to the residential area. Sylus nods.

“We don’t know how long this will take. Although I hope we can get her back quickly, we should grab clothes for a couple of days. Doc, if you will send me your measurements I will make sure you have clothes waiting in Skyhaven. Sorry, I should have offered sooner.” Zayne’s eyes widen in surprise, and for a moment, it looks like he’s going to protest Sylus’s highhandedness, but then he simply nods. They split up. Sylus enters Elly’s room. 

Her scent, a unique combination of fruit and floral, envelops him. He has been running on adrenaline, but when her scent, fading in her absence, hits him, it reminds Sylus how much he has to lose. It is the smell of home. Of happiness. Only recently has he gained it back. Only since they rescued Elly. Only Elly looks at him like he’s not a monster. Like he is worth loving. Even Eliwyn never looked at him the way Elly does. Although he felt his soul connect to Eliwyn, it was faint, like listening to a record player in another room. There, but not completely tangible. It wasn’t until Elly that it solidified into something unbreakable. 

At the thought of losing that, of losing her, his breath catches, and his eyes burn. He doesn’t know if he can survive if he loses her again. Although he doesn’t know the other men’s connection to Elly, except Rafayel’s, with a soul as incredibly beautiful as hers, he doesn’t doubt that she has inspired deep and meaningful connections in all of them. 

Whether it was in alternate realities or timelines, he doesn’t know, and at this point, it doesn’t matter. They are here now. She is here. For his sake, for all their sakes, they can’t afford to lose her. Sylus realizes he will do anything if it means saving her. Of keeping her with him. That includes keeping the other men in her life or adding them to his. 

Shaking off those thoughts, Sylus quickly grabs Elly several changes of clothes. He will need to order some more for her. She dropped weight while she was in the hospital. Sylus frowns, realizing he doesn’t know the last time Elly ate anything. Things have been happening so quickly that he’s not sure. He doesn’t like that he doesn’t know. Sylus doesn’t worry about his clothes. He will have several changes brought to the hanger in Skyhaven like he offered Zayne, and the safe house should have toiletries already.

Sylus, Rafayel, and Zayne all pile into one of the SUVs and speed to the airfield. It is mostly deserted, with just a few private planes in high-end hangars. Xavier isn’t there yet. They quickly board the jet. Sylus gives instructions that they are to take off as soon as the hunter arrives.

Taking the opportunity to look over Mephisto, Sylus quickly diagnoses the issue. The damage is fairly superficial and should be easily fixed. That doesn’t explain why Mephisto is still offline. They must have used some sort of EMP or disruptor to disable his processor and power core. Looks like the guard stepped on him after taking him offline but Sylus is pretty sure he has enough equipment on the jet to repair any broken parts. 

While he’s making his assessment, in the back of his mind, Sylus is also working on scenarios on how to integrate a Faraday cage into Mephisto’s design. This will protect the mechanical crow’s power system and prevent a similar situation in the future. Especially if he is guarding Elly. Initial assessment complete he pulls up the schematics of the safehouse and reviews the approved security measures.

“Rafayel, take a look at something for me?” Sylus’s question appears to startle the artist out of his brooding. His multicolored eyes meet red ones, and he nods. Sylus touches his holo and shoots the schematic with floorplan and security measures to Rafayel. A second set of eyes wouldn’t hurt. Just as he’s about to call Xavier and find out where the fuck he is they hear a commotion and the silver haired man enters face haggard, eyes haunted.

“Sorry, had to drop someone off on the way and make a stop.” Xavier indicates the backpack got over his shoulder and takes a seat by the artist. Sylus signals the pilot they can take off.

“Do we know who has her yet?” Sylus looks toward Xavier.

“I’m not sure.” Sylus can see the line between his brows and tension around his eyes and mouth. There’s a stormy quality to Xavier’s deep blue eyes.

“What does that mean exactly?” Sylus pushes.

“I have an address, but it doesn’t make sense.” Xavier keys something into his phone. A moment later Sylus’s phone beeps. He looks at the address and frowns. He keys it into his holo display, and it comes up. It’s a residence. Sylus does a quick search, but it doesn’t appear to be connected to Ever or any of the bio or pharmaceutical companies he would have expected. The owner’s name is redacted, however, and buried under so much red tape that Sylus isn’t sure if he would be able to get the information. Even if he were at the base with his special equipment. That sends up definite red flags. Not many people can bury something this well.

“I see you found your blind spot?” Xavier is looking at Rafayel’s display as he speaks, and although his face remains blank, there’s a hint of something almost smug in his tone. Heat flares in Sylus at the almost cavalier tone.

“How do you think they got her out?” He says through gritted teeth, dropping the mocking tone he would normally use. There is nothing funny about two of his “allies” knowing there was a breach in the defenses and not saying anything to him. To the other man’s credit, he blanches, and the color drains from his face.

“We need to have a little discussion about sharing information.” Sylus leans toward the other men, casting a glance at the doctor, who is occupied on his phone, before settling his intent gaze on Xavier and Rafayel. They both open their mouths to either protest or give excuses. Sylus doesn’t have time for either. “We all have our secrets, but from this point forward, if there is something that could affect her health or safety, we share it with the group. Or you can leave. Deal?”

“Deal.” All three men say in unison. To their credit none of them take even a second to consider it. At least when it comes to protecting Elly, they are all on the same page.

“In the spirit of full transparency…” Rafayel pauses, his voice serious with none of the histrionics he likes to display, although Sylus has noticed that he only lays on the drama for a particular audience. No, this isn’t about Rafayel trying to increase the drama, although it does have that effect. He seems to be weighing what he is about to say. Coming to some sort of decision, Rafayel continues. 

“Elly admitted she loves me. That she loves us.” His eyes meet Sylus’s. For a brief second, pain unlike anything he has felt in this life flashes through Sylus. Then the second part of that statement filters through his consciousness and it’s as though he’s hearing his favorite piece of music for the first time again. Like he can feel as the organ music swells through him once more, expanding his world in ways he won’t realize for decades.

“The two of you, or all of us?” Xavier asks, a dark but breathless note to his voice.

“Don’t you see that is one of the things I love about you? About all of you?” Somehow, Rafayel manages to match the timbre and inflection of Elly’s voice almost perfectly. It is eerie hearing her words coming from the Lemurian's throat. “The one thing you all share in common is how fiercely protective you are of those you care about, whether it is your family or your people.” 

“She didn’t realize what she said. What she was admitting. But she did say it.” Rafayel’s voice is back to his natural timbre. Sylus watches as her inadvertent confession sinks in on the other men's faces and into his own heart, and he knows he made the right decision in her room. Whatever it takes. She is theirs.

***

Elly

Exhaustion weighs on Elly as she slowly returns to awareness. Although she realizes she’s awake, she is in that place that is becoming increasingly familiar, where she can’t move or react and appears to be asleep. Not sure if it’s safe, she struggles to wake up completely. Her entire body aches in a way it never has before, and she moans internally, but no sound escapes her lips. Since she can’t see anything, she listens intently. There is the sound of medical equipment. Different from her time but sounds she has grown accustomed to while at Akso. She prays that is where she is but she doubts she is so lucky. As she begins to drift off again she hears a somatic door swish open and closed and the sound of a single set of boots against an alloy floor. Still on the ship, then.

“You showed great foresight in sending your warning this morning. Quick thinking to get yourself on record with the medical request once you apprehended the subject and again voicing your objections before the interview on the official record.”

“Thank you, Admiral.” Comes a clipped but respectful reply from behind her head. Elly recognizes the light tenor voice as belonging to Caleb. She doesn’t remember hearing any steps that far. Has he been in the room the whole time? 

“Your requests were retroactively approved after the incident and time-stamped to show approved immediately upon receipt. Before the interview. If the Hunter’s association comes looking for blood, we can spin this as a single loose cannon that is being summarily dealt with. In light of these events, I have approved your elevation. Congratulations, Colonel. I am sure you will be an asset to the fleet.” The man who just entered has a deep, resonant voice imbued with confidence and authority. There is a rustle of fabric for a moment.

“I appreciate that, Admiral,” Caleb responds. His voice confident and authoritative. It holds respect but no servility. His voice is deeper with a hardness he didn’t have when he was comforting her. And holds more nuance than during the interview. If she didn’t know it was him, it would be easy to mistake him for someone else entirely. How many sides does Caleb have to his personality? Is it possible he is as multifaceted as the other love interests? Is he even a love interest? Elly still isn’t sure. She will need to be careful until she can determine his motivations.

"What about the interview?" asks the man who must be the admiral. 

"Until Cassius started using stronger methods on her, the results show she was being completely truthful." Caleb sounds the same as before, and yet somehow, Elly feels like he’s either holding something back or questioning her results. Maybe she said something wrong. Did she say anything she shouldn’t or that Eliwyn wouldn’t? She can’t think of anything, but then she never paid as much attention to MC as the others.

“How is the hunter?” The admiral asks.

“We have stabilized her heart, but she will need to be transferred to Willow Medical Center’s Cardiac Care Unit for further treatment. I sent immediate word to the association and was informed she was already on a medical leave.”

“That simplifies things. Keep me informed, Colonel.”

“Yes, Admiral.” The sound of boot steps head toward the door, and after a whoosh, there is a moment of silence. While the conversation was happening, Elly was careful not to attempt to move, but once the room is empty she tries to twitch a finger, a toe. Anything. She is fully aware but unable to move or open her eyes. Then she hears the soft shifting of fabric and stops fighting to fully wake up. Caleb must have remained behind. Once more, she hears the door whoosh open.

“Any word on the medical transfer, doctor?” Caleb asks in a deep, authoritative voice. Like Rafayel’s Abyss Walker voice, this deeper voice gives Elly a flutter in her chest. Although that could just be damage to her heart.

“Yes, I have set up the transfer. We should be ready within the hour. Medical staff will meet us on the landing pad.” The doctor sounds completely disinterested, as though he is discussing the weather.

“Very good. You are dismissed.” Is all Caleb says.

“Sir, I recommend she be chipped before allowing her to leave. It is the only way to ensure her complete compliance and protect the fleet.” Elly is confused. What are they talking about? Elly feels her muscles twitch, and a bolt of fear spears through her. She doesn’t want them to know she is overhearing their conversation. She tries to remain completely still even as she begins to feel her heart rate increase and some of her muscles twitching slightly. 

“Your request is denied,” Caleb responds immediately.

“But Sir, what if she files a complaint with the Association? We can’t afford to have them snooping around or conducting an official investigation right now. This is the only way to ensure her silence.” Elly is grateful she can’t move, or she would have gasped at the implications. They want to try to silence her? How would this “chip” do that? Is it some sort of microchip? If so, what does it do? The only microchips in her time are either to tag your pet or in science fiction novels.

“She is one of their top hunters. A complete personality change would raise immediate flags with the association. I will guarantee her silence in this matter.” Caleb’s voice is becoming colder but that isn’t the reason for the shiver that runs through Elly. A complete personality change? What the hell is the Fleet doing?

“Lt. Colonel, I must insist. If necessary, I will take this matter to the Colonel.” Elly can hear an undertone of derision when the doctor says Lt. Colonel.

“I am the Colonel. If you question my authority one more time, I will take it as an act of insubordination and respond accordingly. Do I make myself clear?” Caleb’s voice is even darker than before, and there is a hardness to it that reminds Elly of Sylus during Long Awaited Revelry. After a hurried ‘yes sir” from the doctor, Elly hears the door open and close. The doctor must have left the room. There is a rustle of fabric, and she can feel the bed shift slightly as someone brushes against the side of it.

A hand carefully lifts hers and holds it gently as though it is something fragile. Precious. Breakable. Given how terrible she feels, it’s probably not that far off. She can feel her hand twitch slightly and is surprised Caleb doesn’t react to it.

“You have to come back to me, Elly. You can’t leave me here alone like this.” Caleb’s voice is soft and breaks as he lifts her hand and gently presses a kiss to her knuckles. The difference in his voice is startling. He sounds completely different than just moments before. There is so much pain and longing in his voice as he says her name that it makes Elly’s heart ache. I guess that answers the question of whether he is a love interest. At least she hopes it does. 

Whatever else is going on with him, she doesn’t doubt he cares deeply for Eliwyn. Elly tries to push down the burning sensation in her stomach at the thought of how much they all care for Eliwyn. How is it possible that Eliwyn has five incredible men who all love her so deeply they would give up everything and everyone for her, and Elly has never had anyone but her mom and Liz. The roiling jealousy is mixed with the uncomfortable feeling of guilt. Guilt for being here while Eliwyn is missing. For being angry that Eliwyn is loved when Elly isn’t. For not being able to tell Caleb that she isn’t Eliwyn. As much as she wishes she was. Elly determines she will tell him as soon as she can safely do so. Her hand twitches more strongly, and Elly hopes she has gained enough control to stop playing possum.

“Caleb?” She tries to whisper, but no sound comes out. Trying harder, she finally croaks out his name through a hoarse throat that feels like it is on fire.

“Elly. Thank the gods.” The pain and longing are gone as though they never existed, but the softness in his voice is unmistakable. She feels it as he brushes her hair back from her face with his free hand. Elly tries to open her eyes but they won’t open more than a slit. She tries blinking her eyes to clear them, then she tries to sit up. Her entire body protests with a wave of pain so severe she whimpers.

“Don’t move, pipsqueak. The electricity running through you like that is like every muscle in your body just had the most intense workout of your life.” His voice holds immense sympathy. Like he knows how that feels. As her eyes finally begin to open properly and her vision clears, she wonders if he does. She was too anxious during the interrogation to notice how broad his shoulders are in real life. She definitely notices now and tries to remember if they looked that broad in the game.

Caleb is wearing the uniform he had been in during the interview as he continues to lean over the bed, his hand cupping the side of her cheek. There’s something slightly different about him that she can’t put her finger on. The way he looks at her. The quiet authority in his stance. How incredibly he fills out the uniform. It all culminates in a tightness in her chest. Although that could still be an issue with her heart. She swallows and tries not to think about how close he still is as her heart starts to speed.

The look he’s giving her is filled with an intensity that she can feel deep in her soul. If that is how he looks at Eliwyn in the game, she must be blind not to realize how he feels about her. And his eyes. They are a shade of deep purple with striations of almost pink where the light hits them. It’s like looking into the most beautiful sunset as day shades into night.

“Beautiful, like a sunset.” Barely able to whisper, the words slip out before she can stop them. Unable to help herself, despite the agony of her exhausted muscles, she lifts the hand he is holding to caress the side of his face. Her thumb runs lightly across his cheek just under his eye, which widens at her touch and flashes with surprise and uncertainty that he quickly masks behind a teasing grin.

“Did you forget what I look like, pipsqueak?” His voice is light and warm and wraps her in a verbal hug. 

“Something like that,” she whispers. Her arm is quickly losing strength, so she lowers it, but Caleb takes it and holds it to his face for a moment longer before holding it in his hand once more.

Tears prick her eyes as she realizes just how connected to Caleb she already feels. She felt it in his house too, but thought it was just a reaction to finding out he is alive and because she somehow connected his death to her mom’s death in her grief-filled mind. But this is something else. Something more. She closes her eyes and rails internally at the unfairness of the universe. Showing her all she could ever want. But it’s not hers to keep. It belongs to someone else.

She may not know Caleb as well as the others but the connection to him is just as strong. Surely, it’s only because of her connection to Elly. All she can hope is that once she has to leave and they have their Eliwyn again, it will somehow fade. The thought of leaving them sends a shaft of pain straight through her chest. For a moment, the enormity of knowing she will lose them all overwhelms her. Suddenly, she can’t think. Can’t breathe. Her heart rate speeds up and has an odd flutter she’s never noticed before. Her eyes widen in fear when she realizes she is in full-on panic attack mode, with almost no warning.

“Elly, what’s wrong?” Caleb’s voice rises in alarm.

“Did you… give me any… anxiety meds?” She gasps out but already knows the answer as she feels a great weight pressing in on her entire body. Squeezing her until she can’t draw breath or move her limbs. Caleb draws closer as though pulled to her, eyes wide in surprise. As the rushing fills her ears and her vision begins to tunnel, Elly realizes she doesn’t have time for medication. She is going to pass out in mere seconds. There is only one thing she knows that works fast enough.

“Caleb… kiss me.” Her voice is barely a whisper, but he must hear her because she immediately feels his lips on her cheek. It doesn’t seem to help, and she knows that it’s not enough. Without thinking, she turns her head until her lips press lightly against his. Caleb’s eyes widen and she sees shock in them. For a moment, nothing changes. Then he releases a breath, then he slides his arms around her, cradling her head with one hand and back with the other, and closes his eyes.

Elly’s eyes close too as Caleb presses his lips more firmly against hers for a moment before softening them until their touch is light and feathery as his lips nuzzle hers then move to her jaw, her cheek, her nose. It isn’t enough and yet completely overwhelming as they are somehow everywhere at once. She still feels them on her eyelids as they drift back across her mouth, then her temple. She is drowning in the sensation of his lips. In the strength of the arms wrapped around her. Of his fingers threaded through her hair and pressed against her back. 

The terrible weight is gone, but she still can’t breathe. Can’t think. Something inside her hungers for more. When Caleb’s lips next return to hers she can’t help as she opens her lips slightly and presses more firmly against his lips, deepening the kiss with a moan.

“Eliwyn!” Caleb moans in response with reverence and need. Hearing Eliwyn’s name startles her out of her haze as though she’s been dowsed in a bucket of cold water. Elly pulls back, gasping for air.

“Oh, god! I’m sorry.” She stammers, guilt rising to drown her for kissing Caleb under false pretenses. For deepening the kiss when she shouldn’t have. For stealing his first kiss from Eliwyn. Caleb presses his fingers to her mouth to stop her, lightly caressing her lips.

“Don’t tell me you regret that.” His tone is light and teasing, but there’s a note of insecurity that tugs at Elly’s heartstrings, and she shakes her head.

“No, I don’t regret it.” She hurries to assure him as the enormity of what she has done threatens to overwhelm her.

“Things are so complicated.” Elly swallows back the tears that want to fall. “Will you hate me if you find out I’m not who you think I am?” Her voice sounds small in her ears, and she can’t look at Caleb. He gently turns her back to face him. His sunset eyes look at her with a darkness she isn’t expecting and she fears momentarily that he realizes she isn’t his Eliwyn.

“Maybe I’m not the Caleb you think I am either.” His voice, while soft, holds a thread of something menacing. Gone is the light teasing Caleb. Now, he is the commanding Colonel. Completely in control of himself and everything around him. It almost feels as though he is trying to frighten her. To warn her somehow. But Elly already knows there is more to him than meets the eye. Especially after watching him completely change his demeanor several times already. Instead of frightening her, it draws her in. The same way discovering abysswalker Raf, jealous Xavi, soft Sylus, and sweet Zayne did. She feels a pull to find out the other facets of Caleb’s personality, too.

“It’s not the same. You’ll understand eventually.” Elly shakes her head, knowing she will probably never get a chance to truly get to know him. Learn his complexities and quirks. What lines he draws and for whom. The only thing she is sure of is he is in love with and would do anything for Eliwyn. Even if they figure out how to keep Elly from dying, it will only be so she can return home. She will lose them all, including Caleb. To Eliwyn. As much as she wants them all to be happy, she wishes it could be with her.

“What happened? I heard a gunshot.” Elly decides it’s time to change the subject before she gives herself another panic attack.

“Yes, it was unfortunate. Corporal Cassius didn’t make it.” There’s a hardness to Caleb’s voice that makes Elly wonder who pulled the trigger. Colonel Heath or Caleb. By the momentary flash of something dark and satisfied in his beautiful twilight eyes, she thinks it might have been Caleb. She waits to feel remorse or something similar, but she doesn’t. She wonders if that makes her a bad person. She didn’t feel anything after finding out Paul was dead except relief. Her feelings here are similar.

“When do I get to go home?” After his reaction to requesting to be taken back to Sylus, she is careful not to say what home she thinks of. She has a feeling it will be easier to escape or for the guys to find her if she isn’t in a freaking starship.

“That electricity did a number on your heart. I am transferring you to Willow Medical Center so we can check it out before taking you home.” Elly laughs mirthlessly, knowing what they are going to find. And what they are not going to find. Namely, no protocore fragments. Her heart lurches at the thought of what they would do to her then. She needs to escape before that but can’t see how. She will just have to hope an opportunity presents itself.

“Caleb, there are things about my condition that you don’t know. Things have changed since the attack that started all this. I need Zayne. My life depends on it.” That is as much information as she can safely give him. She watches as he tenses momentarily.

“Let’s get you checked out at Willow Medical Center, and we can discuss it. Let me go check on the transport and see if it’s ready.” His expression doesn’t change, but Elly is sure he is just placating her.

“Okay, but in the meantime, I need anxiety medication, so my Evol doesn’t keep going haywire. I think I was on gabapentin?”

“Let me see what I can do.” 

 Caleb exits and Elly lays back exhausted, her eyes closing of their own accord. Only a few moments later, she hears the somatic door open and close again.

“Wow, that was fast.” There’s no answer. Then, Elly hears some rustling in a drawer to her right and drags her eyelids open against their will.

“Oh. Hello, Doctor.” He ignores her and continues what he is doing. Maybe he is looking for supplies or getting her what she needs to take the medication. She is tempted to close her eyes but forces them to remain open. She doesn’t know this person and can’t afford to trust anyone. Not even Caleb. Not really. At least, not until he knows the truth and has accepted it long enough to help them find Eliwyn. If he can accept it. If he doesn’t turn against her. Hate her.

The doctor turns to her with a small rectangular object in his hand. 

“Tilt your head to the side, please.” He gestures her to turn her head away from him but a thread of unease runs down her spine. Something about this feels wrong. His voice is disinterested, almost imperious, and sounds familiar. He stares at her as though he is used to being obeyed, but Elly doesn’t comply.

“Why?” She asks, trying to keep her voice neutral so she doesn’t give away that she’s suspicious.

“I need to administer something.” His voice is laced with impatience.

“What is it?” This time, Elly can’t stop the hint of suspicion and hopes the doctor doesn’t notice. There is something off about this whole situation. If they needed to administer something besides the medication she requested, surely Caleb would have told her about it, right?

“It’s a biomechanical sensor to monitor your vital signs and your heart more effectively.” Elly’s mind stumbles on the word biomechanical. Like a chip? Suddenly, the conversation she heard earlier comes to mind and her eyes widen.

“Does Ca.. Does the Colonel know about this?” She rushes to ask.

“Of course.” It is said with so much conviction that if she weren’t already suspicious, Elly might have believed him.

“Then I am sure you won’t mind waiting for him. He should be right back.” As the doctor steps toward her, Elly leans away from him.

“I don’t have time for your nonsense.” He is still very matter of fact, but there’s something in his eyes that she doesn’t trust. He tries to grab her arm, but she yanks it out of his reach. Her flailing knocks the little rectangular object onto the bed, and she snatches it before he can grab it. Adrenaline adds speed to her tired and sore muscles. Instead of trying to reach for it, he steps back to the counter, and she hears the same rustling sound. Her heart sinks as Elly realizes he must have more than one of the things.

This time, when he reaches for her, she jerks back so far that she loses her balance and cries out as she topples backward off the other side of the bed. Elly forces her shaking muscles to move as he moves around the bed toward her. She doesn’t have time or energy to get up, but she manages to scoot around behind the bed and pulls the chair she finds there to use as a sort of shield. 

When the doctor tries to get close to grab her, she shifts the chair so it blocks him. After two tries, he finally just grabs the chair and tries to yank it away from her but she holds onto it for all she’s worth. She hears a frustrated grunt as the doctor somehow manages to pull it so hard it that pulls her forward, overbalancing her and sending her sprawling on her stomach. There’s a crash as the chair hits the wall, and Elly feels a knee in her back, holding her down.

“No! Stop! Let me up!” She starts screaming at the top of her lungs. She tries to twist out of his hold, hands drawn into fists, but he’s either too strong, or her muscles are just too tired because she can’t dislodge him. As she feels the press of something against the back of her neck, she gives a final buck, managing to dislodge whatever it is for a moment, but it takes the rest of her strength, and her muscles collapse. She braces for pain, but suddenly, there’s nothing. No knee on her back. No weight on her at all, and she almost sobs at the reprieve.

“What is the meaning of this?” The quiet menace in Caleb’s voice is unmistakable and sends a shiver of both fear and relief through Elly. There’s no answer from the doctor. Elly attempts to move but whimpers as her abused muscles scream in pain and exhaustion. Suddenly, Caleb is there. 

“Are you hurt?” His voice is soft, concerned.

“No.” Elly manages to respond despite how dry and raw her throat feels. First, from when she screamed in pain in the interrogation, and now this more recent vocal abuse. She feels his warm, callused hands as they drift over the skin of her neck and upper back, double checking for injury. Or perhaps an insertion site, she thinks, darkly. He gives a hum of satisfaction when he doesn’t find anything then turns her over carefully. His warm and gentle hands gather her gingerly into his arms where he cradles her against him. He inhales deeply for just a moment and exhales a shaky breath.

When Elly begins to shake in reaction, he straightens but doesn’t set her down. A dove gray blanket floats to them and drapes over her as Caleb walks toward the door. Elly tries to look around but Caleb shifts so his incredibly broad shoulders are blocking the view of the rest of the room. Caleb looks down at her intently, as though she is the only thing in his universe.

“Don’t look. Just keep your eyes on me.” She meets his gaze and nods. Caught in the beauty of his midnight plum eyes, without a hint of pink.

“Where are we going?” Elly asks, her voice laced with exhaustion.

“The transfer order has come through. We are heading to the transport. I will give you the medication once we are on board.” He looks away, releasing her from his gaze, and she relaxes and lays her head on his shoulder.

“Take care of the traitor,” he says to a subordinate after leaving the room. Elly’s hands, still clenched from earlier, tighten reflexively. That’s when she feels something small and rectangular clutched in her right hand. Somehow, through everything that happened, she never dropped the first device.

Chapter Text

Hello Friends,

I hate to do this, but I have to change the day I post. My work schedule changed, and instead of having Thur-Fri off, I now have Sat-Sun off. Since I write on my days off, that doesn't give me enough time to write, let it sit, and then revise. I will change to posting on Friday morning instead of Monday morning. Sorry for the delay and I will chat with you all on Friday.

Becky

Chapter Text

Zayne

From the moment they arrive at the jet, Zayne is on his phone. First, he sends his measurements to Sylus. While he hopes they can rescue Elly quickly, it is better to plan for all eventualities. Then, he sends a carefully worded “request” to Akso. He makes sure to couch it in terms that they cannot deny an open-ended leave of absence.  

When he and Greyson had discussed the two guards, Zayne mentioned he was planning to submit a leave request. He discovered that Greyson was submitting a similar request. It turns out Sylus has offered Greyson a rather lucrative short-term contract, which he plans to accept. 

Zayne is glad to know his friend will be available if something urgent arises with Elly's health and wonders momentarily if that is why Sylus did it. Zayne is beginning to wonder how many of Sylus’s choices and decisions can be correlated directly with either Eliwyn or now Elly. How many of his own have been? 

Eliwyn was his first friend. Before he had ever gone to medical school or even decided for sure that he wanted to be a doctor—the reason he chose Cardiology as his specialty. And now, Elly needs him more than Eliwyn ever has. He can’t turn away from her. Not as long as she is willing to have him at her side. He pushes down the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach at the thought of abandoning his other patients.

He closes his eyes momentarily at the memory of her kindness and empathy as he lost control in the MedVault. The sound of her voice as she talked and sang to him through his breakdown calmed and soothed him. The memory has the opposite effect on him now that she is missing. Frost begins to peek out from his sleeves. He closes his eyes and pushes the memory aside. Focusing on shoving his emotions back into their container and wrapping himself in his clinical detachment. It helps him focus for now. He is rewarded as the frost recedes from his skin. The pit of ice that has gripped his heart since Elly was taken, however, is unaffected.

Next, Zayne reaches out to the Dean of Clinical Medicine at his alma mater, Skyhaven University. He sends a quick request for access to the university library, which has a rare collection of historical and modern medical texts related to protocore syndrome. It’s one of the reasons Zayne chose to attend Skyhaven University, despite there being more prestigious medical schools. 

If pressed, Zayne can claim to be working on a paper about utilizing historical medical treatments and evidence-based references to inform the development of innovative treatments and therapies for protocore syndrome. Once they rescue Elly, he will need access to the books in the collection to find a way to save Elly, anyway. Also, the dean could be a valuable resource for information on Skyhaven. He moves in the circles of influence.

Dean Cyril has been reaching out to Zayne every few months or so to attend University donation galas or to give lectures at the medical school. The dean likes to show off prominent graduates, and he has contacts all over the medical and pharmaceutical industry, so Zayne has made sure to maintain cordial relations with him. It helps that his duty and responsibility to help mentor and guide the next generations of doctors by giving lectures on occasion at the university, has has this added benefit. Knowing the dean will want bragging rights that Zayne is there writing his paper and not Akso, Zayne is sure he will approve the request.

Although he hopes he won’t be in Skyhaven long enough, he knows once word gets out, he will be flooded with invitations to consult on any number of difficult cases, which could give him access to places he would otherwise be barred from. Likely, he will also receive invitations to attend charity events and other social gatherings, but those can be ignored. If someplace like Xander Sciences has Elly, he would even consider temporarily taking them up on their job offer. Long enough to get her out, anyway.

It barely registers when Xavier finally enters the plane, and they get underway. Not until something in Sylus’s voice makes Zayne look up and pay attention. He doesn’t hesitate to agree to Sylus’s demand that they share any information that could affect Elly. His mind has already moved on to what else he can do when Rafayel’s statement makes his brain stumble to a halt and almost undoes all of Zayne’s hard-won control. Was she also thinking about him when she made that statement? Or only the others? He has no people, and his parents don’t need him to take care of them. 

All he has ever had are his patients until he reconnects with Eliwyn. Now, Elly has come into his life. The more he gets to know her, the more precious every moment he spends with her feels. He loves how her eyes shine with laughter. Her self-deprecating humor. He is captivated by her resilience. Her heart. Drawn to her kindness and compassion. When she looks at him, he feels it in every fiber of his being. And although he’s fairly certain she finds him attractive, given her response to his kiss, he knows that doesn’t mean she is interested in exploring a relationship with him. If that is the case, he will accept it and still do whatever it takes to save her. Regardless of whether she ever returns his growing feelings.

They arrive more quickly than Zayne expects. One of the benefits of traveling on a private jet and not the anti-grav train. As he exits the plane, a black duffel is handed to him, which he takes with a nod of thanks. A car and driver are waiting to transport them to what appears to be a boutique hotel. Zayne frowns as they enter the building. A public hotel isn’t what he would have thought of as a secure location. Sylus bypassed the front desk completely and headed toward the elevator with purposeful steps. The rest follow with varying degrees of reluctance.

Once they are all inside, Sylus presses what Zayne would have thought was a decorative element on the control panel. He then leans down to look at something, then there’s a flash of red, and the Elevator begins to move upward. When it stops, the doors open directly into a living area. The room is palatial in a modern revisionist style that is luxurious yet understated. To the right is a hall with several doors leading off it. To the left is an open concept kitchen with full size state of the art appliances.

“Planning session in ten.” Without another word, Sylus walked to the room at the end of the hall. 

Moving to follow the others, Zayne is stopped by the vibration of his phone. He pauses to pull it out of his pocket and sees he has a message from Dean Cyril with an offer of tea in his office at Zayne’s earliest convenience to discuss his request. Zayne frowns. He didn’t expect the dean to want to discuss it. He had hoped to receive immediate approval. Zayne sends a response that he will be there soon as he has a chance to freshen up after traveling. 

Taking the last empty room, Zayne pulls out the new clothes to discover they are not only the correct size but also the colors and styles he would have chosen for himself. He looks thoughtfully in the direction of Sylus’s room before filing that information away. If he is quick, he can at least grab a shower. He hasn’t changed or shaved since he awoke after the kidnapping attempt. Has barely slept. Too busy first diagnosing her, then trying to find a way to save Elly’s life. Zayne is grateful to discover his room has an en suite. He makes quick work of a shower and shave. He opens the door to find Xavier about to knock.

“She’s being moved,” Xavier says. Zayne immediately follows the hunter into the living area, where Xavier has a tablet open. Rafayel is already sprawled out on one of the couches, but Zayne can see he is watching closely. Unable to interpret the information on the tablet, Zayne still finds himself unable to look away. Within moments, Sylus arrives as well, and they all crowd around the silver-haired man.

“Do we have a location yet?” Sylus asks as soon as he arrives.

“Give me a sec. It’s still triangulating her biotrace. I can say it is one of the higher islands.” Xavier continues to watch his table carefully.

“I thought you had to use that weird device thing,” Rafayel asks impatiently.

“Only because she wasn’t on this earth,” Xavier responds, but it is clear he’s not paying attention to the painter.

“Shit.” The word seems to slip out almost unnoticed by the hunter, and Zayne’s heart seems to pause as he waits for the man to finish. “She’s on this island. But she’s been moved to the Farspace Fleet Command Center.”

Zayne immediately takes out his phone and sends off a couple of messages to acquaintances at Willow Medical Center, advising he is in town and would love to get together for coffee.

“Care to share with the class, doctor?” Sylus's voice has his familiar mocking tone, and instead of irritating Zayne, it helps settle him. He knows now how Sylus sounds when he is panicked, and while most people would not be able to tell the difference, Zayne will never forget it. 

“The fleet wields considerable influence behind a modest facade, but last I heard, they spent most of their time carrying out exploration missions in the Deepspace Tunnel. I can’t imagine what they would want with Elly,” Zayne responds. “Since Willow Medical Center has a similar relationship with the Farspace Fleet as Akso does with the Hunter’s Association, and it’s where I earned my residency, I frequently consult there. Some of my old colleagues may have some insight.” 

Sylus considers this information silently as Zayne continues. 

“For now, I am heading to check in with a contact at Skyhaven University. They have a lot of influence. If I don’t gain any information on the fleet or Elly, I will begin researching alternative methods to treat Elly’s Protocore Syndrome.” The white haired man raises his eyebrow, then nods. 

“I’m going to do a little scouting. I’ll let you know if she moves again.” Xavier says, getting up from the couch and turning without waiting for a response.

“In the meantime, I will see what I can find on the fleet. I have a feeling my information may be out of date. Doctor, do we have an updated copy of Elly’s fingerprints so I can add her to the security measures?” Zayne nods in reply and opens his tablet to send them over. Sylus's crimson eyes lose their focus, and Zayne has a feeling leader of Onychinus’s thoughts are turned inward momentarily, then he refocuses on Zayne.

“Let us know what you find out. Rafayel, can I speak with you for a moment?” 

After retrieving his holo tablet, Zayne turns toward the elevator but doesn’t get very far before he is surprised by a restraining hand on his shoulder. Looking back, he meets the deep blue eyes of Eliwyn’s Hunter partner.

“I’ll ride down with you.” Xavier’s voice is deceptively soft. Zayne considers the other man for a moment. Something flickers behind those midnight eyes. Zayne catches a storm of emotions before they are gone. Covered by a practiced facade. Recognizing the desperation to keep moving in the other man’s eyes, Zayne acquiesces.

“Can I have a copy of her medical history?” Xavier asks quietly as they enter the elevator.

“Why?” Zayne doesn’t think the hunter will use her medical information for anything nefarious, and he doesn’t think Elly would mind him having it, but he isn’t willing to just hand it over without a good reason.

“I think it might help me figure out what happened to Eliwyn.” Zayne frowns, not sure how the medical records would help, but he knows Elly is determined to find her and go back to her world. Although his heart lurches at the very thought, he nods at Xavier and sends the requested information.

Once they reach the ground floor, Zayne’s phone buzzes. He quickly checks his messages to see that several colleagues have responded, indicating a desire to see him while he is in town, but none indicate any immediate availability. Knowing how busy they are, he responds to advise that he would be happy to work around their schedule. They head outside, and Zayne still has his phone out, ready to order a car. He is surprised to see the same car and driver that transported them from the airport. Zayne’s phone buzzes in his hand. He discovers Sylus has sent him a direct message instead of through the group chat.

I ordered you a car. It is safer if you don’t use public transportation.

The message is followed by a phone number,  which Zayne confirms is to the driver. Although he is surprised at the gesture, Zayne realizes he shouldn’t be. There’s a reason Sylus is a criminal mastermind, after all. He’s always ten steps ahead. Zayne is thankful they have Sylus on their side. It isn’t his area of expertise, and knowing the other man is covering that area allows Zayne to focus on his specialty.

“Need a ride?” Zayne offers Xavier, noting the fatigue on the other man’s face.

“Sure.”

***

It took much longer than expected to gain approval to access the necessary collection at Skyhaven. Dean Cyril had been in an odd mood, first asking seemingly nonsensical questions and then wanting to know why Zayne needed access to the collection. When Zayne attempted to mention the fleet, the dean responded with veiled references to the university’s future, providing no information about the fleet itself. 

Finally, after Zayne agrees to give a lecture the following month on the pathophysiology of Protocore Syndrome, he is granted the requested access and allowed to leave the capricious dean’s office. He double-checks his phone, but there have been no further updates on Elly, so he heads to the student store. In short order, he procures a leather satchel and several notepads and pencils. Placing his holo tablet inside the satchel, he goes to the collection room and begins to research.

Zayne finds something soothing about the tactile feel of a pencil as it scratches its way across the paper, putting his thoughts and ideas into a tangible format. He quickly loses himself in the cathartic, almost joyful, pursuit of knowledge. This is his safe space. Somewhere he can always retreat from the world when he needs. In the chaos of Elly’s diagnosis and then disappearance, his nerves and emotions have become frayed, his thoughts almost erratic. While his conscious mind is creating order of the information in the disparate books he is reviewing, his subconscious mind is likewise organizing his thoughts and emotions. This is always how it is when he allows himself to get lost in the information. One book in particular is particularly informative and insightful.

Several hours later, Zayne is pulled from a state of heightened cognition by the vibration of his phone. Hoping for news on Elly, he snatches it from his pocket, but his heart sinks when it isn’t from any of the others. It is, however, from Dr. Jones, a colleague from Willow Medical Center, requesting him to consult on a complex case of Protocore Syndrome and asking if he is available immediately. She advises that there should be a link to the confidential medical file in his secure email. Opening the file, his heart aches at the age and prognosis of the little girl. She is the same age Eliwyn was when he met her for the first time. Even if he didn’t need an excuse to visit the hospital, he would have accepted the consultation. Gathering his things, he leaves. Sending a message to the driver as he heads to the door. 

When Zayne opens the door, he is momentarily nonplussed to find the silver-haired hunter upright but asleep on the other side of the vehicle. Zayne wonders momentarily what the other man has been up to. After a few minutes, Xavier blinks his eyes sleepily before his gaze settles on Zayne.

“How was your research?”

“No immediate cures jumped off the page. How was your recon?” Zayne asks.

“I’m not done yet.” 

After that, they lapse into an exhausted silence. Both men look a little worse for wear. It had been too long since Zayne had allowed himself to rest. Although he is used to shifts that sometimes last up to a full 24 hours, it has been longer than that since he has slept. 

There is just too much to do and not enough time. He knows he will be no good to Elly if he doesn’t get at least a little rest soon and resolves once he has consulted on this, if they don’t have any leads, he will try to sleep. And hope the nightmares don’t interfere.  Xavier appears to nod back off to sleep, and Zayne is briefly jealous of the other man’s ability to drop off to sleep at a moment’s notice. Xavier only wakes again when they pull into the hospital drop-off zone. Zayne eyes the hunter sidelong as he follows him out of the vehicle.

“I’m going to take a look around,” Xavier says.

“Don’t get lost.” Zayne deadpans. Xavier snorts softly but doesn’t respond.

Shortly, Zayne is in an elevator on his way to the 16th floor of Willow Medical Center. He reviews the child’s case in his head a final time as he pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes for a moment, weighing the options and potential alternative modalities they can apply. Once he arrives at the administrative floor, he heads to the office he is used to seeing her in, only to be directed to a larger, more opulent office. The sign on the door says Department Director. 

“Dr. Li, thank you so much for coming.” Seraphina Jones rises and comes around from behind her desk, then holds her hand out to shake his. 

“Congratulations on your promotion.” Zayne shakes the proffered hand. “I can’t say I’m not surprised. You always professed to disdain for administrative roles.”

“Yes, well. The hospital finally gave me an offer I couldn’t refuse.” Her chuckle rings a little false, and Zayne doesn’t miss the hesitation before the word hospital. There’s a tension across her shoulders that hasn’t been there on previous visits. Zayne wonders what or who put it there. 

“I am still in the process of transitioning to the role.” She says, indicating her desk covered in stacks of patient records and charts. Like Zayne, she has always preferred printed media to electronic. Claims it helps her think better.

She is a tall woman more than twenty years Zayne’s senior with a no-nonsense attitude. Although not a cardiologist, she is a bulldog when it comes to her patients. Which is why she is always given the most complex cases. Zayne didn’t think she would have been willing to give that up for anything or anyone.

Once seated across from her desk in the indicated chair, Zayne mirthfully eyes the precarious piles of medical records on her desk, although his expression never changes. Some things don’t change. He makes room on her desk for his notes and tablet, and they quickly drop into a familiar exchange of opinions and ideas as they begin to discuss the patient. 

Almost an hour later, they finally decide on a treatment plan and discussed some alternative methodologies mapped out depending on her response. It is a little unorthodox, but given the suboptimal outcomes with conventional treatment, Zayne is cautiously optimistic about her prognosis. Now, if he could only find a treatment for Elly. He glances out the window. The afternoon sky has darkened into evening. 

As he begins to gather his notes and tablet, Dr. Jones’s computer lets out an odd alert that Zayne doesn’t recall ever hearing when he was employed at Willow Medical Center. He glances up curiously as the normally calm under pressure doctor almost fumbles the piles on her desk in her haste to access the computer. Zayne pauses, a furrow in his brow. 

“Unless there are any other patients with protocore syndrome you would like to discuss, I will take my leave.” Zayne catches the almost imperceptible flick of her eyes toward the screen at the mention of Protocore Syndrome, just before she meets his gaze again and gives a small shake of her head. A thread of unease coils in his chest. Drawing on inductive reasoning, he determines he needs to see the alert she received.

When Dr. Jones doesn’t say anything, he gathers his tablet and notebooks containing his notes and references he gathered at the university. He walks around the desk. The computer is angled away from him, most likely for privacy reasons. With practiced precision, he observes a marked pallor in Dr. Jones’s complexion and a visibly pronounced carotid pulse, consistent with tachycardia. There’s a noticeable change in pupillary dilation, which further indicates a heightened sympathetic response, suggesting she is experiencing acute physiological stress.

Normally, Zayne isn’t one to pry, but this is not a normal situation. The knot in his gut and instincts he learned to trust as a combat medic tell him he must gain access to the information on that screen. Drawing on the subtle redirection skills honed through years of navigating irate or grieving families, Zayne shifts his weight almost imperceptibly as he reaches to shake Dr. Jones’s hand. The movement guides her, unconsciously, a step closer to her desk—just enough for her hip to catch the edge of a precarious stack of medical records. Flustered, she tries to steady them, but her attempt only hastens the collapse she was trying to prevent.

“Here, let me assist you.” Zayne smoothly kneels to begin gathering the files. His subtle body language cues coax her to move further from her computer without realizing she is being influenced.

“Thank you,” Dr. Jones says with a sigh and a nod.

Once she turns away and leans down to gather the files scattered outward in a wide arc, Zayne takes the stack he has gathered and sets it on her desk. While ostensibly straightening the pile so it doesn’t fall again, he surreptitiously glances at the computer. Years of intense study and clinical practice serve him in good stead as he quickly skims the information. Before Dr. Jones notices anything amiss, he is back on the ground, gathering the remainder of the files before rising and setting them on her desk.

“I will be in Skyhaven for a few more days if anything else arises with that patient,” Zayne says. She nods distractedly, not bothering to look up as he leaves.

As he heads down to the main floor, Zayne notices a change in the atmosphere of the hospital since the last time he visited. Previously, it felt much like any other hospital. Focused and intense in certain situations, but otherwise calm and controlled to promote comfort and healing.

Now, however, Zayne notices a higher visibility of hospital guards and the employees giving them a wider berth. In the elevator, staff members who enter go stiff when they see Zayne, and their conversations abruptly cease. There are no smiles on any of their faces. 

As he exits the elevator, Zayne sees Xavier leaving the building and follows him out.

“I overheard some guards discussing an order to clear the top sector of the critical care wing,” Xavier says without preamble once they are safely ensconced in the relative privacy of the waiting car. Based on the information he gleaned from the computer screen, everything clicks into place for Zayne, and a plan begins to form. He eyes Xavier critically and sends a message on the group chat.

I know where they are moving her to and how. Sylus, how quickly can you get an air ambulance and some paramedic uniforms?

***

Elly

Lost in a haze of exhaustion and pain, Elly’s mind drifts as Caleb carries her to the transport. She is surrounded by the feel of him, wrapped in the strength of his arms. Every breath is flavored with the scent of cinnamon, cedar, and something darkly masculine. A feeling of warmth and safety permeates her weary body. Although she knows it is probably just a reaction to Caleb saving her from the doctor, she has to fight not to let it lull her into a false sense of security. Logically, she knows it’s a lie. She only feels safe and protected because Caleb thinks she’s someone else. She tells herself it would be very different if he knew the truth. As they leave the starship interior for the flight deck, Elly has trouble drawing breath in the thin air.

“We’re almost there,” Caleb assures her, pulling her even closer to him.

As they draw near, the entire back of the transport splits open, the lower half becoming a ramp and the upper half raising like the hatchback of a car. Caleb strides up the ramp as though she weighs nothing and sets her gingerly on the gurney that is waiting. There are cupboards lining both walls of the transport. The interior doesn’t look that different than the ambulance Sylus used to rescue her, except the floor, ceiling, and cupboards are all the same dark alloy as the starship.

Two Farspace Fleet personnel, a male and female, are waiting for them and begin turning on equipment and checking her vitals. The female medic pulls the collar of Elly’s shirt down to expose some sort of monitor adhered to her chest and presses a button on the device. Elly hadn’t even realized it was there. There is a beep on Caleb’s watch and a corresponding beep on the equipment in the ambulance as it connects. The male medic holds a bottle of water and two pills. Elly struggles to sit up as her muscles scream for several moments before admitting defeat.

“Help me sit up?” Elly asks, not looking at anyone in particular. The male paramedic steps closer and begins to slide his arm under her shoulders to help her sit upright until Caleb steps forward with a glare, forcing the paramedic to step away from her. He raises the head of the gurney before turning back to the medic and holds his hands out imperiously for the bottle of water and pills. Pretending to fidget and get comfortable, Elly slips the device in her right hand into the pocket of her pants. Then, she takes the proffered bottle and pills from Caleb. They look like the same ones Zayne had her take earlier, although she’s a little wary. Her trust is beginning to run a little thin through all that she has been through.

“It’s just the gabapentin you requested,” Caleb reassures her. Nodding, she takes the medication.

“Thank you. You are dismissed.” Caleb turns to the male fleet paramedic.

“Fleet policy is to have two paramedics on board for all patient transfers,” he says with a mulish expression, ending with a belated, “sir.” 

“I have the necessary certification.” Caleb’s expression hardens, and although the paramedic looks like they want to argue, they eye the insignia on Caleb’s coat and the expression on his face, then turn without another word and disembark. As the transport lifts into the air, Caleb tucks the gray blanket securely around Elly and then gently brushes her hair back from her face. His expression morphs from something severe, almost harsh, when looking after the paramedic to a more wholesome, open expression when he looks back at her. 

Elly realizes this is the first time she has truly looked at him. Beyond the uniform and how his incredibly muscular frame fills it out. Beyond the severe exterior he projects to his staff. The expression in his eyes as he looks at her is open, his smile boyish. Tender. His expressive eyes crinkle slightly at the corners with his smile. Classically handsome. She could imagine his face on ancient statues, but it’s the way he looks at her that makes butterflies flutter in her chest.

Knock it off. Y ou know he isn't looking at you. He's looking at her. She tells herself harshly, ignoring how the thought makes her eyes burn slightly. 

His soft expression is a stark contrast to the uniform, which gives the impression of severity and untempered strength. It’s such a dichotomy that it throws Elly off for a moment, and she wonders what he would look like in normal clothes. Her thoughts drift, and her mind wanders, wondering what it would be like to have all the love and adoration that Eliwyn has. Does she understand how lucky she is?

“Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you, Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you,” Caleb sings quietly in his rich tenor voice, in harmony with Elly, who only then realizes she has been singing under her breath. Elly gasps, stumbling to a halt as she looks at him in bewilderment.

“Why did you stop singing, pipsqueak? I love that song.”

“You know it?” Elly blurts out in surprise before she can stop herself. Maybe Dream a Little Dream of Me is a song in this world after all? Sylus didn’t seem to know it, but maybe it’s a genre he doesn’t listen to.

“Of course I know that song.” Caleb gives her an odd look. “You made it up when we were kids. You’ve been singing it your whole life.” Elly’s heart stutters in her chest, then begins to pound as confusion swamps her. How is that possible? She only found the game a few months ago. Caleb’s watch and one of the machines by the medic both give a warning beep, and the female paramedic moves to check it.

Elly is still struggling with this new information when she feels Caleb’s fingers leave her hair and trail down her face, gently caressing her skin, leaving shimmery tingles in their wake. They gently trace her cheek, along her jaw, then down her neck, where they pause. A shiver runs through Elly, and she can’t help closing her eyes as her body is swamped with conflicting sensations. Warmth suffuses her face and neck, and she can’t tell if it’s from the feeling of his fingers on her skin or the mounting anxiety the news about the song stirred in her.

“What happened to the necklace you gave me? Did it survive the explosion?” Oh gods! Why is he asking this now? Is this a trick question? Does he know MC wore it constantly after he “died?” Realizing her slip about the song might have made Caleb suspicious, she tries to think of what she can say that won’t be a lie. 

Her breath hitches as his hand twitches slightly against the hollow of her throat as though tracing the line of where the necklace would have been. Her thoughts fly apart at his touch and she tries desperately to gather them back together. Swallowing, she decides she can’t think of a story or a lie that he won’t be able to detect, so she tells him the truth. As much of it as she can, anyway.

“It did, but when I woke up in Akso a few days ago, I didn’t have it. I don’t know where it is. I’m sorry.”

She looks everywhere, but her eyes lock on a small dark stain on the gray blanket she hasn’t noticed before. Questioningly, she reaches her hand down to the stain and finds it tacky and wet. Drawing her fingers away from the gross feeling, she finds them stained with red. She looks questioningly at Caleb, who has a contemplative expression on his face.

“During the interrogation, how did you manage to fool the empathic equipment?” Although she can’t detect any suspicion in his voice, Elly freezes like a deer in the headlight,s and a warning beep sounds again on the machine monitoring her and from Caleb’s watch. He doesn’t move or twitch, but his awareness changes somehow. She curses internally and wracks her brain for an excuse. She doesn’t know enough about the empathic equipment to come up with anything plausible, so she decides to tell a partial truth.

“I didn’t. Maybe my anxiety caused a problem with the equipment?” Although Caleb frowns at her response, he doesn’t say anything.

“Caleb, what’s this?” Trying to change the subject, Elly points at the tacky patch on the blanket with her red fingers. He glances at it, and although his expression doesn’t change, his eyes darken with something like satisfaction.

“It’s nothing.” He opens a cupboard and grabs a small square that turns out to be an individually wrapped disinfectant wipe, which he uses to clean the red from her fingers. Elly tries not to think about how blood might have gotten onto the blanket and glances at Caleb. Although he is looking at her, his eyes are focused inward. Elly gnaws on her lower lip and feels her heart rate begin to speed, causing the monitor and Caleb’s watch to beep consistently. Is he suspicious? What can she do? Although his mind is obviously elsewhere, his hand still caresses her neck, almost unconsciously, where the necklace would lie. Her heartbeat continues to be erratic from either fear, reaction to his touch, or both.

“Colonel,” a voice calls from the front of the aircraft. “We are approaching the rooftop landing zone.” Luckily, this breaks Elly out of her spiraling thoughts and feelings. They have arrived much faster than Elly would have thought, but she supposes that’s because there is no traffic when you fly.

Caleb pulls up a holo display, and moments later, Elly sees a rooftop with another aircraft drawing close to one of the landing pads. At first, she thinks it’s theirs, but the exterior of the aircraft on screen doesn’t look like the one she’s in, at least from what she remembers. Glancing up at Caleb, she sees his expression harden and his demeanor change completely. Any lingering softness disappears, and his eyes darken and flash with something like anger or malice; she’s not sure which.

“I thought I said they were to clear the roof for our arrival?” Caleb’s voice, harsh with displeasure, sends a chill through Elly.

“Yes, sir. I have already contacted the other ambulance. They say they have a patient coding and in need of immediate resuscitation. They say it is under authorization code: starlight.” Elly swallows her automatic gasp, causing her to choke. The incessant beeping of the monitor increases as her heart speeds even faster at the word starlight. Her thoughts pick up speed as well. Is it them? Who else would use a code like starlight? The paramedic checks the monitor with a frown.

“We will wait for them to leave before landing,” Caleb orders, and Elly begins to panic.

“Sir, I am not sure that is wise,” says the medic, pointing at something on the monitor screen as Elly’s thoughts begin to spiral. If it is them, what if she misses them because Caleb won’t land? Her heart rate skyrockets, and the machine alarm rises in pitch. Knowing she has to do whatever it takes to make them land, she gasps and clutches her chest as though in pain. Her hands press against the device, and without thinking, she pulls it, despite the pain it causes, until it’s no longer securely fastened to her chest. Then she slumped back, going completely limp, letting her head loll to the side. The monitors and Caleb’s watch go crazy.

“Elly!” Caleb’s cold demeanor melts away at the sound of her gasp and the monitors' reaction. “Get us down there now!” Elly’s stomach drops out as they descend rapidly to the landing pad. Elly can hear the medic next to her frantically keying something into the machines. There’s a bump as they land hard, and the door immediately swooshes open. The gurney she is on starts to pull forward, beginning to roll down the incline of the ramp, when the sound of running feet intrudes, and the gurney suddenly stops.

“Fuck! Get us out of here. Take us to the ground entrance!” Caleb orders and begins to pull the gurney back up the ramp as the transport lifts into the air. 

Knowing she only has seconds before it will be too late, Elly does the stupidest thing she has ever done in her life. She surges up, catching Caleb by surprise, and using the gurney like a springboard, dives headfirst out of the rising transport.

Chapter Text

Xavier

Heart in his throat, Xavier watches in horror as Elly dives headfirst out of the transport he is running toward. The transport is already fifteen feet in the air and perilously close to the edge of the building.

Instincts and adrenaline surge. He activates his Evol, and the world slows to a crawl. Xavier sees the red and black misty tendrils of Sylus’s Evol stretching toward Elly, and a uniformed male in the transport, who seems oddly familiar, caught in the moment of reaching his arms out as though to stop her, even though she is already too far away. Sylus’s Evol may be able to reach her in time, but Xavier isn’t willing to take chances where Elly is concerned. 

Even as he evaluates the situation, Xavier is already moving—faster than the eye can track. His mind races, years of captaining the Traceback II allowing him to almost instantaneously calculate the rotation, trajectory, and velocity, based on Elly’s estimated mass, necessary to safely flip her back onto her feet and redirect her momentum to keep her from landing on her head or falling off the roof. 

Leaping impossibly high, Xavier carefully decelerates and rotates into a flip with just enough force to match Elly’s angle of descent as he reaches her, sliding one arm around her shoulders, the other cradling her head to his chest to protect her neck, as he uses his momentum to continue their rotation so they land on their feet a yard shy of the edge. 

Without deactivating his Evol, he makes sure she remains securely in his arms as he leaps once more, landing next to the air ambulance Sylus managed to secure for them on almost no notice. Only once they are securely on the ground does he deactivate his Evol. Time itself restarts around him like a projector picking up speed as he slows to sync back up with the world around him. 

“I’ve got her in the ambulance,” Xavier says into his earpiece. The others immediately turn and run back toward the transport while Xavier carries Elly inside.

“What did you think you were doing?” Xavier says, voice breaking with emotion. His breaths come in harsh gasps, and his limbs shake in reaction as he pulls her into a fierce hug. His heart quakes at how close they came to losing her. He knows the probability of her survival had she made that leap and they not been here.

“I’m sorry.” Elly rasps, voice scratchy and pained, making Xavier frown as he looks down at her more closely. 

“I couldn’t think of another way to get to you.” Her chest heaves against him, but not the adrenaline kind of breathlessness—it’s shallow and strained. Too fast. Lines of pain spread from the corners of her eyes. Their normally bright gaze was dull and dry. Her complexion is pale and blotchy. It is a stark contrast to the health and vitality she displayed after the Evol storm.

“Zayne!” Xavier can’t help the note of alarm in his voice that makes the doctor’s eyes widen as he clambers into the aircraft with Rafayel and Sylus. The center of the ambulance is empty since they had to abandon the gurney when their ruse failed.

Zayne reaches for a diagnostic bracelet from one of the drawers in the ambulance and attaches it around Elly’s wrist as Xavier sets Elly into one of the seats and quickly secures her. As Sylus turns to head to the cockpit, Xavier lays a restraining hand on him.

“She needs you.” Xavier manages to get out, ignoring the jealousy that burns in his stomach at the admission, and gestures the other man to the seat next to Elly. Xavier heads to the front and takes the pilot’s seat. Sylus had left the engines running, so Xavier quickly runs through the preflight check, then, with a practiced hand, pulls up on the controls.

“What happened?” He hears Zayne call to him as the growl of the engines changes pitch.

“I don’t know. She’s having trouble breathing and doesn’t look good.” Xavier yells back.

“Gee, thanks,” Elly snorts, then begins coughing. A wet rattling sound that sends a chill down Xavier’s spine. His jaw clenches, and his gut hardens. Someone will pay for whatever was done to her in the half day she’s been gone from them.

Xavier frowns as the engines begin to labor, but the aircraft doesn’t rise. He slowly gives it more power, and although the engine growl increases, the aircraft still doesn’t move. A quick check of the alerts doesn’t show any tethers or hangups. Checking the other instruments and sensors, he realizes the gravitational pull is showing higher than normal. He feeds more power to the engines to compensate, and they slowly begin to rise, Xavier fighting for every inch.

Just as he’s afraid he will have to land once more, the gravitational anomaly suddenly disappears, and the aircraft lurches into the air. Xavier fights to keep the aircraft steady, taking a moment to glance at the rear area.

“Everyone alright back there?”

“No, I broke a nail.” Rafayel pouts as he climbs into the cockpit and plops into the seat next to Xavier. They sit in silence as Xavier pilots the fastest course to the private airfield, as they agreed before the rescue. Their bags were already secured in the back of the ambulance.

“How’s Elly?” Xavier asks. There’s no answer for a moment, and Xavier glances over to discover Rafayel’s lips pressed together in displeasure.

“I don’t know,” the artist finally admits in a more serious tone. “Zayne was putting her on oxygen when I left.” He’s silent for several moments before adding, “He didn’t look happy.”

The knot in Xavier’s stomach tightens at this information, and the tension in his shoulders increases. Despite Rafayel’s dramatics and mercurial mood swings, Xavier meets Rafayel’s nebula eyes and sees the same worry swirling in them like a cosmic storm as his own. There’s a strange sense of connection and companionship in knowing the other man is as invested in Elly’s well-being as Xavier is.

They make good time and Xavier quickly but carefully lands at the appropriate aircraft landing pad for the private airfield and heads to the back, Rafayel close behind.

“Any improvement?” He asks Sylus. Zayne is busy getting what appears to be a portable oxygen machine ready and gathering a few other medical supplies.

“Yes, I’m feeling a little better,” Elly responds before Sylus can. “I’m hurt, not deaf.”

“You also sound awful and probably shouldn’t be talking,” Xavier says with a pointed look. Elly flushes slightly, which only highlights the pallor of her complexion. Looking slightly self-conscious, she rubs her neck, which shifts her shirt slightly, revealing a patch of dark blistered skin high on her shoulder. Frowning, Xavier draws closer, carefully moving the fabric to expose a large area of second-degree burns and curses internally.

“Why didn’t you tell us about this?” Xavier asks, and Elly looks down.

“I didn’t realize it was there.” She says quietly, and Xavier feels it like a knife to the gut. How much pain is she in that she doesn’t notice a burn that severe?

“Zayne, you’re going to need burn cream.” Xavier interrupts the doctor, pointing out the newly revealed injury. Zayne doesn’t respond at first. He grabs the burn cream and gauze with clinical precision, but his jaw is tight, eyes narrowed. Xavier’s seen that look before. The doctor isn’t just angry. He’s afraid.

Xavier, in the meantime, walks past to gather half of the bags. Rafayel’s usual smirk is gone as he watches Elly, his posture stiff and face unreadable. Xavier catches the subtle clench of his hands and a flicker of something raw in his expression before he gathers the remaining bags and heads to the exit. Sylus has Elly, held carefully in his arms, so they can maintain physical contact. Zayne carries his growing collection of medical supplies. They all turn to follow Rafayel out.

“I thought you said you could pilot the aircraft.” Sylus needles Xavier beside him in his normal mocking tone as they exit the aircraft. Zayne is on Sylus’s other side, as though unconsciously moving into a position of protection. Xavier wonders briefly where that instinct comes from.

“I can,” Xavier replies, completely unruffled by the remark. “There was an odd gravitational anomaly that was preventing takeoff.”

“Gravity?” Zayne asks in surprise.

Out of seemingly nowhere, an invisible force suddenly presses down on Xavier, and his legs want to buckle. His muscles shake with exertion as he tries to remain upright. A glance shows the others are similarly struggling, except for Sylus. He appears to instead be having trouble hanging onto Elly, who is now held not only in his arms but also wrapped in a cocoon of black and red mist with tendrils reaching into the ground as though to anchor them. 

Fighting against the immense pressure, Xavier manages to turn far enough to see someone standing atop the aircraft they just vacated. They had an unknown passenger. But how did he manage to remain up there despite the wind speed? The Fleet uniform and vaguely familiar countenance tell Xavier it’s the man from the hospital roof who had been reaching out to Elly from the Fleet transport. Xavier knows he can’t activate his Evol while an unknown force is being exerted on Elly or himself. It could cause severe injury. 

“You can’t take her away from me!” says the Farspace Fleet officer, voice rough with emotion. Xavier meets the crazed eyes. 

“Now, that’s not very polite.” Sylus mocks. 

Tendrils of red and black shoot out to wrap around the officer, restraining him. Ethereal purple chains appear out of nowhere to join Sylus’s Evol in restraining the officer. Zayne stands frozen, eyes wide, pupils dilated, face ashen. Snowflakes dance in the air around him. Elly’s eyes widen in fear.

“Sylus, no! Don’t hurt him!” She struggles in Sylus’s hold. The white haired man looks like an avenging angel, face twisted and almost unrecognizable.

“Sylus, please,” Elly begs, her voice hoarse.

“I may not have a choice, kitten.” Sylus grits out. Xavier has no doubt that Sylus could have destroyed the other man almost instantly and sees his struggle to hold back. The instinct to protect Elly at any cost is strong, but she asked him not to. Elly must see it too because she places her hands on his face.

“Trust me?” she asks quietly. After an apparent struggle, Sylus nods.

“Let me talk to him. Once he knows the truth, he won’t want me.” Elly sounds sure, if oddly sad, as she says this, but Xavier saw the crazed look in the officer’s eyes and isn’t convinced the other man is interested in listening to the truth.

“Take me to him.” Elly sets a shaky hand against Sylus’s chest, who shakes his head.

“Kitten, it’s not safe.” Sylus’s face looks pained at denying her, but he is adamant. “You can speak to him from here.”

After a moment, Elly nods, “Okay, then take me to Xavier.” This raises an eyebrow from Sylus, but the other man steps closer until Elly can reach out her hand to Xavier. The moment their fingers interlock, the pressure on Xavier dissipates completely. It must have weakened enough for Rafayel because Xavier hears a sigh of relief and warmth as the painter steps closer. Zayne shakes his head, then steps up to Sylus’s other side, presenting a unified front. All four of them are poised to strike out if the officer makes a single wrong move.

Elly turns back to the officer with glistening eyes. 

“I’m sorry, Caleb,” she begins, causing a wave of reaction as each of the men displays varying degrees of shock. 

Xavier’s mood darkens. He remembers how broken Eliwyn was after the death of her family. It finally clicks where he has seen the officer before. Eliwyn has a photo of Caleb next to her TV. How many times has Xavier sat watching movies with Eliwyn under the watchful eyes of the man in the photo? Although it is hard to reconcile the intense officer before him with the carefree young man in the photo. His grim determination and stiff officer's demeanor were a stark contrast to the smiling and laid-back young man wearing the brown sport coat over a printed tee. Xavier frowns at the thought. Something about the photo tugs at a memory, just out of reach. He focuses on the volatile situation around him, pushing that niggle of memory to the back of his mind to think about later.

“Maybe it would have been better if you stayed dead.” Rafayel’s voice darkens, turning almost ominous at the other man’s name, and glancing back, Xavier sees knives in the Lemurian’s hands. 

Tension and danger radiate from Sylus in palpable waves, whose face is hardened and set. Only the trust they have built through this ordeal allows Xavier to ignore the inherent danger of the leader of Onychinus. For once, he is grateful to have that strength at his side, helping protect Elly. Zayne, however, appears to have gotten over his initial surprise, face back to its normal calm demeanor, only the drop in temperature showing the lie to his calm facade.

“Elly,” Caleb starts, eyes only on her, ignoring the others, for now. “Come with me. You belong with family.”

Xavier recognizes the look in Caleb’s eyes and feels his own narrow in response. His stomach twists as his teeth and hands clench reflexively.

“No,” Zayne interrupts. “Not if she is in this condition after being in your care for less than a day. Do you have any idea how much damage you have done? I just hope it isn’t irrevocable.” There is a quiet fury simmering under Zayne’s words that sends a chill down Xavier’s back, and his heart begins to pound. How bad is Elly’s condition for Zayne to lose his detached facade?”

“It wasn’t his fault.” Elly tries to explain, but Xavier isn’t listening.

“How bad?” He asks Zayne.

“If we can’t reverse it? I’d estimate she’s down to less than three months.” Zayne admits, fear underlies the anger in his voice. Xavier’s heart plummets. Caleb frowns at this, but doesn’t question their conversation.

“Sylus, if anything happens, you are to get Elly out of here. At any cost.” Xavier tells Sylus, who surprisingly doesn’t argue. As much as Xavier wishes he could be the one to whisk Elly away if necessary, he knows she will need Sylus’s healing Evol to hopefully reverse the damage to her heart and whatever else is injured. Xavier knows he can trust the other man to keep her safe.

“Elly, Willow Medical Center is an excellent hospital. They can heal you there.” Caleb urges her.

“I can’t, Caleb. I’m sorry, I never meant to deceive you. I just didn’t know if I could trust you.” A pained moan escapes the other man, and he staggers as though from a blow. 

Xavier readies himself to take Caleb out if he so much as makes a move toward her. Better to eliminate the threat than take any chances with Elly’s life.

***

Elly

Mistrust swirls from every direction, thick and cloying, causing a different sort of breathlessness in Elly. She knows the standoff could unravel at any moment if she can’t convince Caleb to let her go. 

“Caleb, I can’t go to any hospital, because I can’t afford to let them find out that I am not Eliwyn…” Her voice trembles and her chest tightens, but she pushes on. “My name is Elinor Wrede. I don’t have an Aether core. I’m not even from this universe.” Caleb looks at her in disbelief and confusion.

“I know it sounds insane. I promise you we are doing everything we can to find out what happened to Eliwyn and get her back.” She hurries on before he can say anything. “We’ll let you know as soon as we do.” Elly is out of breath, despite the nasal cannula delivering extra oxygen to her system, and slumps back once she’s finished. Caleb looks bewildered for a moment, then his face darkens.

“This is impossible.” He steps forward threateningly. 

Xavier releases her hand, gaze unflinching, shoulders squared, he steps in front of her. Before she can miss his warmth, Rafayel takes the place at her side. All four of her protectors go still with predatory calm as though at some unspoken command, shifting their weight and stance slightly like a deadly, choreographed dance. It’s not just protection—it’s a warning.

She hopes to the gods that she can keep them from destroying Caleb, remembering vividly in the game how Sylus saved MC from being shot and disintegrated the man who did it. Each of her protectors is equally lethal in their own way. She doesn’t think Eliwyn would ever forgive them if they let anything happen to Caleb, let alone if they are the ones who do it.

“Do it, I dare you,” Rafayel, Abysswalker, taunts with no trace of the dramatic artist in his face or stance. Elly lays a restraining hand on his arm and feels how his muscles practically vibrate in readiness.

“I think I can prove it to you, like I did with them.” Elly indicates the four of them, but looks at Caleb.

“He doesn’t need to know the rest. It doesn’t pertain to Eliwyn.” Rafayel tries to forestall Elly, but she is undeterred.

“It might. We still don’t know what my connection to all of this is.” She looks around at them before continuing.

“Besides, there is something I don’t think any of you have realized.” She insists.

“Then we can contact him with the information later, once we know more. You need to rest, Elly. And let Sylus try to heal you before the damage is irreversible.”

“What do you mean irreversible?” Caleb interjects. Elly opens her mouth to tell him it doesn’t matter, but Zayne breaks in before she can say anything.

“Because she doesn’t have an aether core to protect her heart, her protocore syndrome is advancing. She’s dying. Thanks to you, I estimate she now has less than three months to live.” Zayne’s voice is almost flat, but Elly can see the accusation, anger, and betrayal simmering in his eyes. 

For herself, she tries to ignore the fluttering in her heart and the weight that settles in her stomach at the reminder. A part of her fears that resonating with Sylus isn’t going to be enough this time. Glancing back at Caleb, she sees his stricken look harden before all emotion leaches from his face and is replaced by an impenetrable mask. That alone hurts more than any argument he could have thrown at her. It's the mask of someone trying not to feel anything at all. Not that she can blame him.

“You are going to explain everything to me, in minute detail,” he says finally. His voice is steady, low, and full of command. “Or I will bring the full force of the Farspace Fleet down on you.” Despite his words, Elly sees the tightness of his jaw and the rawness in his eyes. Not just fury. Hurt. Fear. What must he be going through, knowing Eliwyn is still missing?

“No, right now we are going to take Elly back to Linkon to be treated before it’s too late.” Zayne’s voice brooks no argument as he motions Sylus toward the jet.

 Caleb’s eyes don’t leave hers. “Then by all means,” he says, “let's go.”

Elly doesn’t have the strength to argue anymore and lays her head back on Sylus’ shoulder. “Please, can we just leave?” Her voice wobbles from pain and exhaustion.

“Okay, kitten.” Sylus’s arms tighten around her, but not enough to cause more pain, as he turns his back on Caleb and walks to the jet, Zayne beside him, Xavier falling in behind, but Rafayel remains where he is.

“By all means, Colonel, after you.” The normally teasing tone of Rafayel’s voice holds the sharpness of a knife. Elly doesn’t have the energy to see if they follow. Caleb will either let them go or he will have to come with them.

Once inside, Sylus sets Elly’s legs longways on a bench seat that looks almost like a leather settee before sitting at the end and pulling her down to rest against his chest, her head on his shoulder. 

Although opulent, with rich burgundy leather and mahogany accents, the jet is smaller than Elly expected. The bench seat she and Sylus occupy takes up one wall, while the other wall has two sets of seats facing each other with a table in between. There looks like there may be another compartment, but the partition is closed. Perhaps it is just a kitchenette or something. Zayne sets his bag of medical supplies on the nearest chair and begins extracting what he will need.

“You are not to be alone with him.” Xavier’s voice is low and dark as he crouches next to her, brushing her hair back and trailing his thumb along her cheek. Elly nods. It’s not hard to agree to the request. She can’t tell how well Caleb is taking the news about Eliwyn. As much as part of her trusts him implicitly, Elly knows she can’t afford to rely on that part of herself. The part that feels the pull to him. To all of them. She has to remain objective. Or at least try to. Although it may otherwise, she doesn’t really know Caleb or anything about Eliwyn’s past history with him, other than what was in the game. Not like the others.

“Promise me, Elly.” There’s an urgency in Xavier’s voice that wasn’t there before. 

Despite her exhaustion, Elly manages to raise her hand to his face, resting it against his cheek for a moment before lowering it.

“I promise, Xavier.” She smiles slightly, eyes drifting to his lips, to the memory of their silken heat against her lips when Xavier last made her a promise. Does she now owe him a “promise?” The thought fills her with warmth, even though she knows it shouldn’t. When she raises her eyes to meet his again, she sees a matching heat in them and wonders if he is also remembering it. Without another word, he takes a seat against the window, enigmatic eyes never leaving her face.

At the rate she is going, Elly is starting to wonder if she is going to survive to get back to her world. She tries to tell herself it wouldn’t be that bad if she allows herself to respond growing connection with them. At least then she could die happy. As always, the knowledge of Eliwyn and her rightful place at their side intrudes on her musing, and her stomach twists in shame. The thought of taking something that doesn’t belong to her fills her with pain. 

Almost as much as the thought of leaving them does. That doesn’t mean she can’t daydream of a world where she is allowed that kind of connection. Even if it will never be more than a dream. She will just have to content herself with making sure she survives long enough to ensure they get their Eliwyn back. 

Rafayel’s voice breaks into her thoughts. A welcome reprieve.

“Whatcha thinking about so hard, cutie? I think I see smoke.” His teasing is gentle as he hunkers down next to her. He takes her hand and holds it tenderly before laying a gentle kiss on her knuckles.

“Why is everyone in a uniform, except you?” Having a spare minute to think since her unadvised leap from the transport, Elly realizes that Xavier, Zayne, and Sylus all wear matching black uniforms with a gold six-pointed star behind a scepter entwined with a serpent. It looks familiar but also foreign, and she can’t place it. Rafayel, on the other hand, is the only one in normal clothes.

“Someone had to be the patient while they played paramedic.” He shrugs nonchalantly. “We didn’t expect to be recognized before we could get close.”

Caleb arrives and attempts to sit, but Rafayel instantly blocks him.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, almost too casually. “You can sit there.” Rafayel indicates the farthest seat from Elly. Once Caleb is seated, Rafayel positions himself between them. Elly rolls her eyes but knows there’s no point in arguing with Rafayel when he has that stubborn mulish look on his face.

“You said you can convince me.” Caleb challenges her.

“Patience is a virtue.” Sylus cuts him off. Elly feels him shift under her slightly as he settles his attention on her. “Kitten, when was the last time you ate something?” There is something pointed, almost guilty, in his question.

Eyes flickering to Zayne and quickly away, Elly feels a flush rise in her cheeks and finds herself unable to respond.

“Elly?” Sylus’s hand gently turns her head until she is looking into his eyes.

“I had a little omelet…” Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Zayne jerk as though from a blow. “I haven’t been very hungry.” She tries to assure Sylus, who is looking aghast.

“Two bites of omelet don’t count as a meal, kitten.” Elly closes her eyes. Of course, he knows. She should have remembered Mephisto was in the kitchen with her.

“Wait. Where’s Mephisto? Why isn’t he here?” She looks around the jet as though he will appear any moment.

“He’s currently under repair. He took a little damage during your kidnapping.” Sylus raises a hand to point to the partitioned-off area. Guilt suffuses her at the thought that he was injured because of her.

“Will he be okay?” She’s barely able to speak around the lump in her throat.

“He will be fine. Don’t think I didn’t notice you changing the subject, kitten.” Before Sylus can press his point home, Zayne sits down next to her.

“Can I see your burn?” His voice is calm and detached, but Elly can see guilt swimming in the depths of his eyes and wishes she could assuage it.

“Sure. Whatever you need.” As he carefully pulls aside the collar of her shirt and begins applying some burn cream to her skin, she tries to meet his eyes, but he remains focused on his task.

“Anxiety can cause a decrease in appetite,” Zayne says, without looking up. “Your body needs nutrition to assist in the healing process, even with Sylus’s Evol. If you can’t eat anything, the MedVault has NutriSynth you can drink instead.” He finally meets her eyes in silent apology, and she tries to convey her acceptance and understanding. Although the guilt doesn’t leave his gaze completely, it lessens slightly.

“I’m told it’s only mildly disgusting.” He says finally, his lips quirking slightly at the corners. She wrinkles her nose but smiles back.

“Oh well, with such an endorsement as that, how can I say no?” A small chuckle escapes her. It’s scratchy and hoarse like the rest of her voice, but no less real. 

Feeling the weight of someone’s gaze, Elly looks up to find Caleb’s eyes boring intently into her. Though dark and hooded, they give nothing away. A shiver runs down her spine and she wishes she knew how he was feeling about her and what she told him. As Zayne pulls out some gauze to cover her burn, he shifts slightly and blocks Caleb from her view. Whether it he did it inadvertently or purposefully, Elly is unsure, but grateful.

“How did this happen, Elly? It looks like an electrical burn.” Zayne glances surreptitiously at Caleb for a second before shifting back to meet her eyes.

“I was in a room with… I guess it must have been a lightning Evolver when I had another anxiety attack and caused an Evol storm.” Elly is careful to leave the rest of it out of her explanation for now. She will tell them everything that happened once she has them alone. Zayne’s gaze is penetrating, and she sees the suspicion. She flicks her gaze toward where Caleb would be if Zayne weren’t blocking him and sees his eyes narrow for a moment before nodding subtly.

“Do you need more medication when we get back to the estate?”

“No, Caleb gave me some gabapentin before we headed to the hospital.” She assures him.

The rest of the trip is relatively mellow. Once Zayne has done an initial assessment and changed some settings on the monitor on her chest, which is now synced to his datapad, he takes the remaining seat closest to her in case she needs him. 

Caleb attempts to question Elly again, but Sylus shuts him down once more, advising that Elly needs to rest and they can answer any questions he has instead, so he asks for their side of the story. They take turns giving Caleb a very stripped-down version of how they found and rescued her while she drifts comfortably in Sylus’s arms. She is unable to fall completely asleep in the tense atmosphere, but it is the closest thing to rest she has gotten since she was taken.

Sylus’s phone going off and him responding while holding the phone in front of her rather than releasing her rouses her from her stupor, but not enough to move from her comfortable position. Being close to Sylus is definitely helping with the muscle pain. It even feels like her heart isn’t laboring quite as much. She keeps her eyes closed as she is transferred to a vehicle. 

When Sylus buckles her into a seat and then sits down, taking up her hand to hold once more, she finally opens her eyes. She finds herself boxed in. Sylus’s strength and warmth on one side, and the glow of Zayne’s datapad to her left. Rafayel once more chivvies Caleb to the farthest seat from her. Xavier hovers over her from behind, his strength and warmth a quiet bulwark. Rafayel sits sideways in front of her, one eye on her and one on Caleb next to him, like a warden with a prisoner. 

They finally arrive, and Sylus carries her into the estate. She wants to insist on walking, but realizes it would be pointless. If she were being honest with herself, which she tries to be, she’s not sure she would be able to take more than a couple of steps anyway. Once more, she is taken back to the hospital wing. She sighs dramatically.

“Man, I am sick to death of this place.” She quips. All she gets are glares. “Gods, you guys need to lighten up.” She grumbles.

“It’s even less funny now, kitten.” Sylus chides her gently. Caleb has a scandalized look on his face, and Elly sticks her tongue out at him. Yvonne arrives almost at the same time they do. Zayne must have messaged her to meet them.

“Yvonne, what are you still doing here? Isn’t it safe to return to the hospital?” Surprise is evident in Elly’s voice. Yvonne flushes prettily, and Elly feels bad for prying.

“I have taken a short-term contract,” she admits. She glances down at her feet. Elly grabs her hand, without thinking.

“I’m so glad you’re still here.” Elly admits. “I was just worried about you.” 

“Thanks,” Yvonne smiles back at Elly. “I’m fine. This is actually a great opportunity.” After a moment, she gathers some familiar-looking buttons from a nearby drawer.

“More sensors, huh?” Elly asks ruefully.

“Yes, but just a few. That machine,” Yvonne indicates the one on her chest, “is pretty state-of-the-art, so you won’t need as many as before.” It doesn’t take Yvonne long before all the sensors are in place. Luckily, their locations were accessible without Elly having to remove any clothing, just shift it out of the way a little.

“When can I get my questions answered?” Caleb interrupts. Impatience in his tone, but his face is still an impassive mask.

“Once I confirm how much damage has been done,” Zayne responds, tone cold as ice, not bothering to even look at Caleb as he responds. As though the other man isn’t worth his time.

“Sylus,” Zayne begins, voice noticeably warmer although still detached, once Elly is all set. “I need you to step away while we run this so the resonance doesn’t skew the results.”

“I’ll be right here if you need me, kitten.” Sylus’s eyes as they meet Elly’s soften in a way she’s not used to seeing from the game, and she looks away in confusion. She tries to ignore the fluttering in her stomach and the flush of her cheeks as she faces Zayne.

“MRI?” Elly asks tentatively, once he has completed the current test. 

“As long as you don’t plan on breaking your back again, I think we can skip the MRI,” Zayne responds sympathetically. “Yvonne will need to take some blood work. Then we can retest you in a couple of hours and see if there is any improvement.” 

“Broken?” For a moment, some unknown emotion leaks through in Caleb’s voice, but it is gone too fast for Elly to name. No one responds. Zayne walks out of the room. When Elly looks at the others, it is apparent that no one plans to.

“To be honest, I’m not sure exactly when it happened,” Elly tries to explain while Yvonne draws several vials of blood. Remembering how the boys had left this part out of their story. “The night they brought me to this universe, I had been attacked and injured my back.”

“Among other things,” Rafayel mutters darkly, but subsides when Elly looks at him.

“When I finally woke up a week later, I was almost kidnapped, and the kidnappers kicked me in the back when I tried to resist.

“That’s what happens when you hire inferior muscle,” Rafayel says snidely from Caleb’s side.

“They weren’t mine,” Caleb says with simple authority. Something in his tone makes Rafayel look at him sharply before settling back.

“Special delivery,” two voices say in unison as they enter the medical area. The smell that wafts in with them has Elly’s mouth immediately watering. Entering with them, Zayne returns with a bottle of water, a cup of medication, and something in an opaque carton, Elly is sure she isn’t going to like.

“Here you go, boss lady,” Luke says, pulling out a quart-sized jug with a steaming liquid. Beside it, he sets a bowl with noodles, vegetables, and thin pieces of beef.

“Pho?” Elly asks, recognizing the setup.

“I figured you would need a reward for drinking this,” Zayne explains as he holds up the opaque bottle with the words NutraSynth on the side. Elly wrinkles her nose in disgust but reaches for it.

“Do I have to?” She asks plaintively.

“Considering how little you have eaten since the hospital, I am afraid so.” Zayne’s small smile is sympathetic. “Be grateful I am not making you drink two. Instead, you can have bone broth.”

Under the watchful eyes of everyone in the room, she takes the carton, already opened by Zayne thankfully, and downs the entire thing. It’s chalky and tastes more like mud than the chocolate it is purported to be. Just thick enough to feel gross sliding down her throat. By some miracle, she manages not to retch, and she holds out her hand for the water bottle. Zayne anticipated her need and already has it uncapped and ready for her. She takes several swigs to wash down the mud. When done, she’s already a little full, but the pho smells so good.

“Is there an empty cup somewhere?” She asks Zayne. It’s Sylus, however, who nods and goes to a cupboard Elly hadn’t noticed and pulls out a clean white mug. Elly is surprised to have something so prosaic anywhere that Sylus owns until she holds it. It feels both delicate and sturdy. There's a gold line around the rim and along the handle, and it’s almost translucent. She can’t help laughing to herself. 

Of course, he would own the most expensive coffee cup she’s ever seen. She tries to pick up the quart of broth, but her hands shake too much. Sylus gently takes it from her and pours it into the mug. Every movement is precise and measured. Not a drop spills or goes somewhere he doesn’t want it to. When he’s done, he hands the half-full mug to Elly, who is able to hold it without too much shaking as long as she keeps both her hands on it.

Black and red mist reach out and pull Sylus’s chair next to hers, and he sits down, laying a hand on her leg. She’s inhaling the glorious scent of the pho when she feels his touch. Mid-breath, the tightness in her chest releases, and she’s able to inhale fully. Her shaking abates slightly as well, but Elly’s not willing to risk holding the cup one-handed. Especially considering how expensive it feels.

“Now is as good a time as any, I guess.” She says finally, looking up at Caleb, who is sitting at attention almost fifteen feet away, with Rafayel lounging, apparently indolently, on one side and Xavier, relaxed but alert, on his other.

“I’ll start with the song. In my world, Dream a Little Dream of Me is a very old song that has been sung by many famous musicians, but my favorite version is by someone named Mama Cass.” Elly shrugs. “As far as I’ve found, it doesn’t exist here. Unless you were able to find anything about it, Sylus?”

“Nothing. Why are we discussing the song?” Sylus sounds almost bored as he asks the innocent question, but Elly isn’t fooled. She knows a sharp intellect and cunning mind is hiding behind his crimson eyes. He wouldn’t ask without a purpose.

“I started singing it without realizing it on the transport. Caleb surprised me by singing it with me. Eliwyn “made it up” as a child.” 

Sylus nods thoughtfully. “That reminds me of a question we had about the story you wrote,” he says. “Did the entire event change, or did Eliwyn’s actions change?” Xavier straightens slightly at the question. Elly glances at him but decides not to question them about why they need to know in front of Caleb. Instead, she thinks back to her story.

“I’m not sure. It could be that just her actions changed, so the sequence of events changed only as a result. The end result was the same. How she got there is what was different, I guess.” A thoughtful look appears on Xavier’s face, but he remains silent.

“So, you know the whole song?” Caleb asks quietly.

“Yes. Didn’t Eliwyn?” Elly says in surprise.

“No. Just a couple of lines. When I asked why she never made up any more, she would just say she didn’t know the rest.” Elly’s thoughts are sluggish, but they sharpen slightly at this, and a chill runs up her spine.

“Caleb, sing the part of the song you know.”

“Why?” Is his almost belligerent reply.

“Just… Please. I think it’s important.”

“Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you. Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you. But in your dreams, whatever they be, Dream a little dream of me.” Caleb’s voice is soft, but his pitch is good. The timbre of his voice is soothing as he sings through the chorus. The chills Elly gets are not completely due to his singing, however.

“What is it, Elly?” Zayne, who’s been sitting off to the side analyzing her test results, turns his perceptive gaze on her.

“When I was little, that’s the part my mom would sing to me every night as a lullaby. I even made her sing it to me when I was in the hospital. I didn’t really learn the rest of the song until I was a little older.” Her eyes meet purple sunset eyes. The uncertainty in her eyes is a match for the confusion and pain in Caleb’s. He’s a soldier. A leader. A threat. But looking at him right now, she sees none of those things. Just a boy trying not to break apart. And she wishes she knew which version of him they’ll be dealing with next.

Chapter Text

Rafayel

Rafayel watches the colonel carefully, noticing that the other man hasn’t asked who they are. Eliwyn told Rafayel that they grew up with Zayne, but Xavier, Sylus, and Rafayel are a different matter. He finds it very telling that Caleb is familiar with each of them, and it confirms some suspicions for him.

At the airfield and on the way here, when he showed the colonel a small portion of his strength and determination to protect Elly, Rafayel was making a strategic decision. If the Fleet has Elly in their sights, he wants them to know that she has powerful and protective friends who will not let her just disappear. It didn’t escape his notice that Xavier and Sylus had similar reactions and also made the calculated choice to show where their loyalty lies as well. 

“How do I know you’re not Eliwyn playing a terrible joke or trying to get back at me for thinking I was dead?” Caleb says. While pretending indolence, Rafayel catalogs every nuance of the other man’s expression and demeanor, catching the almost imperceptible twitch of muscles and aborted micro expressions. Although the colonel may think he is difficult to read, Rafayel has centuries of memories reading people.

“I can’t speak for Eliwyn, but I would never do that,” Elly says tiredly, taking a sip from her mug. “I’m not a deepspace hunter. The time I’m from is earlier than this timeline. We don’t have wanderers or a deepspace tunnel.”

Caleb’s reaction, and lack thereof, is particularly telling. Firstly, it shows Rafayel that Caleb isn’t as indifferent as he is trying to portray. His earlier reaction after the mention of the first kidnapping attempt on Elly told Rafayel that, despite claiming not to be involved in that attempt, the colonel knows more than he is saying. Rafayel wonders if he can use that knowledge to find out where to focus his efforts in searching for those responsible and somehow also steer Caleb away from Elly. The last thing she needs is a snake in the grass with ties to the Farspace Fleet.

After spending the day skulking around the Fleet trying to find a way to reach Elly, Rafayel doesn’t trust anything any Fleet officer says. There is something rotten in that entire organization. Something that feels disturbingly familiar. The only good thing to come out of today's excursion is the officer’s uniform hidden at the bottom of Rafayel’s bag, and the knowledge of how to infiltrate if they ever dare to take her again. Caleb looks unimpressed by Elly’s information, so she tries again.

“I can sing the entire song.” Rafayel’s attention is immediately drawn to Elly, his breath caught in his throat. He’s never heard her sing. Suddenly, there’s nothing he wants more.

“Go on then,” Caleb says flatly, that muscle in his jaw hitching ever so slightly. Rafayel holds his breath as Elly begins to sing.

“Stars shining bright above you, Night breezes seem to whisper, 'I love you.' Birds singin' in the sycamore tree, Dream a little dream of me.” Her voice is light and her pitch true. Heartbreakingly sweet in timbre, with some raspiness from her abused vocal cords somehow conveying a wealth of pain and longing. It wraps around Rafayel’s heart and settles deep in his soul. 

“Say 'nighty-night’ and kiss me, Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me. While I'm alone and blue as can be, Dream a little dream of me.” Without realizing it, Rafayel’s eyes drift closed. No longer paying attention to the other man or anyone else in the room. An ache he can’t describe rises within him.

“Stars fading, but I linger on, dear. Still craving your kiss. I'm longing to linger 'til dawn, dear. Just saying this.” Rafayel is completely lost in her voice. In the way it weaves around him. Like a spell. Like she’s singing just for him. Somehow, vocalizing the many decades and centuries he’s spent waiting for her.

“Sweet dreams 'til sunbeams find you. Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you. But in your dreams, whatever they be, Dream a little dream of me.” Elly pauses for a moment. He’s drowning in her voice and yet reborn from it. Because she’s finally here. He’s finally reunited with her.

“That was beautiful, cutie,” Rafayel whispers, almost reverently, as he opens his eyes. She flushes and looks down in embarrassment, a small smile tugging at her lips as she takes a deep breath. That’s when he realizes that she’s completely out of breath. During her mini performance, her breathiness had served to elevate the song, but seeing her struggle to breathe now, sends a frisson of worry through Rafayel. 

“The song goes on, but it just repeats the verses and chorus a couple of times,” Elly explains before succumbing to a coughing fit.

“No more singing, tonight,” Zayne says firmly, taking out his stethoscope and listening to her lungs. “In fact. I don’t think you should talk anymore for a while.” After a minute of listening to her lungs, he turns to her. Although his face is calm and reserved like normal, Rafayel can see regret swimming in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I need to take a look at those lungs. I’m going to need a couple of scans after all. The good news is it won’t take as long since I can focus on a specific area instead of doing a full body scan.” Elly just nods tiredly, her coughing fit finally subsiding, but Rafayel can hear how her breath rattles wetly in her chest and turns to glare at Caleb.

“Nice work. If you were trying to make her worse, you succeeded.” Rafayel says mockingly to Caleb as Sylus and Zayne walk Elly over to the imaging machines behind leaded glass. Xavier looks like he’s almost asleep, but Rafayel can see the anger and hidden alertness in the other man’s seeming repose.

“You can’t tell me you believe her story,” Caleb says.

“What would your plan be then? Call her a liar? Lock her away?” Rafayel sees Caleb’s eyes dilate slightly at the last question, which tells Rafayel which direction Caleb’s leaning. 

“I don’t know,” Caleb says, but Rafayel hears the lie. While there were times Rafayel wished he could protect Eliwyn or Elly by keeping them somewhere safe, he knew that was not the solution. If Caleb tries it, he will have a fight on his hands. Best to deflect Caleb’s attention from how, however.

“If you’ve spent the entire day with Elly and can’t see the difference between her and Eliwyn, maybe you don’t know Eliwyn as well as you thought,” Rafayel says with a dismissive wave. This time, the colonel goes utterly still. That in itself tells Rafayel he hit a nerve. It’s not long before Sylus is carrying Elly back.

“Sylus, I can walk.” She says around a huge yawn. 

“Kitten, you can barely keep your eyes open. Let’s get you to bed and worry about that later.” Caleb’s eyebrow twitches almost imperceptibly when she doesn’t argue. Well, if he didn’t notice the differences before, Rafayel thinks to himself, Caleb is now. Eliwyn would have fought tooth and nail not to appear weak. She’d never have allowed herself to be taken care of. Elly knows it doesn’t make her weak to accept help. Hell, thanks to Elly, they have all begun to not only accept help from one another but to ask each other for it. A feat Rafayel would have thought impossible before she came into their life.

“Xavier,” Elly says, breaking into Rafayel’s thoughts. “Come tuck me in?” A stab of pain goes through Rafayel that she isn’t asking for him, too, but he looks away with feigned indifference. 

“Rafayel.” His name on her lips pulls him out of the haze of jealousy he’d begun to sink into like a lifeline. He blinks hard. Focus slams back in place. Elly is in front of him. Still in Sylus’s arms. She reaches out, and he’s on his feet in an instant. “You didn’t think I would forget you, did you?” Rafayel swallows the lump in his throat, unable to deny it. He looks into her eyes and sees the understanding on her face and remembers that she knows more of what he’s been through than anyone else, including Eliwyn. For the first time in a long time, he feels completely seen. He feels a gentle warmth across his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

“I’d have you come tuck me in too, but you are needed here.” Her eyes flick momentarily to Caleb, and Rafayel sees the calculation in her eyes, realizing there is more to her request for Xavier than meets the eye. Trusting he will find out what she is up to later, he nods. Wishing they didn’t have an unwanted audience.

Being careful not to jostle or cause her any pain, Rafayel wraps his arms around her and sighs in contentment as she rests her forehead against his. Before she can pull away, he leans a hair closer and slides his nose against hers for a moment before backing off just enough to kiss the tip of her nose. He starts to take a step back, but she stops him. 

“Don’t hurt him, Raf. I don’t know if Eliwyn would forgive you if you hurt him.” Looking at Elly, Rafayel knows he isn’t concerned with anything other than protecting her and keeping her safe. Whatever that requires. Consequences be damned. Eliwyn be damned.

“And maybe, cut him a little slack.” She finishes.

“He hurt you,” Rafayel argues, unwilling to hide his disdain.

“Raf, he didn’t hurt me any more than you did the night you saved me.”

“Well, he didn’t stop it.” He stubbornly refuses to relent.

“I’m pretty sure he did,” she lays her hands on either side of his face, her expression earnest as she tries to convince him.

“Pretty sure?” He raises an eyebrow at her, and she flushes. 

“Well, I sorta passed out when the gun went off, so I didn’t see what happened.” Rafayel just looks pointedly at Elly, who meets his gaze, a pleading look in her eyes that melts him. 

“Please, Raf. For me? When I… go back, I need to know that you’ll be okay. That I didn’t break your bond with Eliwyn.” Rafayel catches her hesitation and instinctively knows she was about to say “die,” but stops herself. He chooses to ignore her slip. For now. Hanging onto the hope that there will be enough time to convince her to fight later. Once he figures out how to tell her that his bond with her matters more than Eliwyn or anything else, without scaring her away. For now, he just nods.

“I’ll try,” he finally accedes. Trying is the most he can promise.

“I still have questions.” Caleb tries to break in. 

“She’s answered enough questions for now. I’m sure you’re a busy man. Feel free to leave. You can leave your questions and your email with Zayne or Rafayel, and I will make sure Elly has a chance to respond once she’s rested.” Sylus says in his normal mocking tone before turning to leave. Sylus doesn’t raise his voice. He doesn’t need to. His stillness draws all the air in the room toward him, like gravity made flesh. 

Although absorbed in watching Elly, Rafayel catalogs every nuance as the colonel’s nostrils flare momentarily before freezing. The line that appears between his brows before instantly smoothing. The way his pause between blinking increases slightly. How his eyes follow her.

“Also, you should know that the issues you exploited to steal her from us have been fixed,” Sylus says in parting over his shoulder. Xavier follows them out. One of the men in crow masks enters as they leave and gathers the remaining pho. Rafayel is pretty sure it isn’t Kieran, so it must be Luke. 

“Would you like something to write your questions on?” Rafayel urges once they have all left the room, except Zayne, who is poring over the medical results. Maybe he can get rid of the interloper now that Elly is gone. Rafayel didn’t miss how the other man’s eyes remained on Elly constantly.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Rafayel shrugs in apparent indifference and doesn’t let the disappointment show. Caleb pulls out a phone from his uniform pocket and appears to be reviewing something, but glances periodically at Zayne, who is absorbed in his task.

Tension mounts in the room as Zayne spends the next half hour completely his review of Elly’s test results. Finally, Zayne sets his datapad down, pinching the bridge of his nose, then looks up, his eyes flicking to the doors where Elly and Sylus exited, before settling on Rafayel, who goes still at the bleak look hiding behind the expressionless mask.

“How bad?” He forces himself to ask the doctor. Zayne exhales slowly.

“If we can’t stabilize her heart and lungs from the electrical damage she sustained today, and if she isn’t able to heal using Sylus’s Evol, we are looking at six to eight weeks, maximum.” Rafayel’s heart stutters in his chest.

“That fast?” He wishes he had heard Zayne incorrectly. He feels so helpless. If only he were still the god of the sea and was able to give her his heart. It worked once after all. Another lifetime ago. 

“What are the chances of that happening?” Rafayel feels like he is grasping at straws, but at this point, he needs something, anything, to hold on to. Zayne shakes his head.

“I will know more in a couple of hours once I run a second set of tests. If it doesn’t look like she’s responding to Sylus’s Evol, we may need to try to instigate another Evol storm. She responded favorably to the last one. I would prefer not to. We don’t have enough information on the long-term effects, yet. Given the circumstances, however, we may not have any other option.” When Zayne meets his eyes, Rafayel recognizes the pain and devastation in them as to match his own. Up until a couple of weeks ago, his mask of clinical detachment might have fooled Rafayel, but Rafayel has spent the last couple of weeks with Zayne as they have both gone through hell.

Zayne isn’t afraid of losing Elly. He’s afraid he already has. It hits Rafayel like a punch to the gut, and his knees weaken slightly before something in him rises in protest. Not again. Whatever it takes, he can’t go through that again. 

“We’ll find a way,” Rafayel says, getting up and walking over to the other man and laying a hand on Zayne’s shoulder, meeting the deep forest eyes of the dark-haired man. Although if Rafayel is honest with himself, it’s as much for his own comfort as Zayne’s. Zayne squeezes Rafayel’s hand on his shoulder, and they remain that way for a few moments before they both step away. Anger bubbling up within him, Rafayel turns to Caleb.

“Colonel, she sustained these injuries under your watch, and I’m holding you personally responsible.” Caleb meets his gaze without flinching but doesn’t respond. 

“You will tell us everything that occurred while she was under your care. And trust me when I tell you, I will know if you lie.” Rafayel continues. “And, you better hope nothing happens to Elly, or you won’t live long enough to find out what happened to Eliwyn.

Rafayel listens to Caleb’s explanation, and although he is sure there is important information being left out, he’s at least sure that the information on the electricity Evol is accurate, although it is likely down-played. Hopefully, it gives Zayne enough information to come up with a treatment plan while they wait to see if Elly responds to the healing.

“That’s all well and good, Colonel. But you aren’t telling us everything. The first kidnapping attempt, for example. You claim not to be responsible.”

“I wasn’t,” Caleb says with no inflection, his gaze intense but facade intact.

“Why should I believe you?” Rafayel asks in a sing-song tone as he cleans nonexistent paint from under his fingernails with one of his knives. “It would only be fitting if you were responsible for all her injuries since coming here.”

“If I had been in charge of that attempt, she would never have been injured.”

“Like you care if anything happens to Elly.” Rafayel infuses just enough of a sneer into his voice, allowing a hint of his disdain for the colonel to show through. 

“Except, I didn’t know she wasn’t Eliwyn.” There’s that micro twitch in Caleb’s jaw, and once more, he pauses longer than normal before he blinks. Looks like the colonel still isn’t sure if he believes Elly’s story. Until they can prove Elly isn’t Eliwyn, Rafayel doubts he will be able to convince the man to leave. Maybe time to try a different tack.

“Prove it. Surely the big, bad Farspace Fleet Colonel can prove his innocence.”

“What do you care?”

“You didn’t see her after the kidnapping attempt. I have a debt to settle with whoever ordered it.” Rafayel shrugs. “I’m more than happy to take it up with you, unless you can prove otherwise.”

“What about Eliwyn?” Caleb asks sharply.

“What about her?” Rafayel is thrown off by the sudden change in topic, and isn’t sure where Caleb is going with it.

“Why aren’t you concerned with how Eliwyn will react? You were pretty close before she disappeared. What aren’t you telling me? What do you know about Eliwyn’s whereabouts?”

“I honestly don’t know what happened to Eliwyn.” Rafayel shrugs. “As for the rest, why should I tell you anything?”

“If you want to know who is behind the kidnapping attempt, you will tell me what you do know or suspect about Eliwyn’s disappearance.” With Caleb looking at him implacably, Rafayel weighs his options. He has enough contacts at the Nest and otherwise. He can find out who requested the kidnapping. But it will take time. Time he doesn’t have, if he wants to make sure that they don’t try again. Maybe if he tells Caleb what he believes, the colonel will give up and return to Skyhaven. Sighing internally, Rafayel makes his decision. If he wants to make sure she’s safe, there is no choice.

“Let’s just say that, in my opinion, if Eliwyn were able to be brought back or rescued, we would have been led to her, and not Elly.” This time, the colonel isn’t able to hide his reaction as he blanches and goes pale before all emotion drains from his face once more. He meets Rafayel’s eyes.

“Carter at Xander Sciences.”

“So, Elly was right after all.” Rafayel’s smile of approval fills with malice as he turns his mind to how he to make the other man pay. “Perhaps it’s time I pay him a visit and show him the error of his ways.” He can’t save Eliwyn. But he can protect Elly, no matter the cost. And he will.

***

Elly

Elly lies quietly in Sylus’s arms as he carries her toward the residential wing, her lashes fluttering closed as she tries to slow her breathing. The medical scans have left her aching and exhausted. But more than that, her nerves are frayed at the edges from holding herself together for so long. She hasn’t let herself think about what happened to her. Too busy just trying to survive. The moment Xavier caught her, strong, steady, after she made her ill-advised leap from the transport, she nearly broke. They came for her. But she knew it wasn’t safe. 

It’s a quick trip to the residential wing, but as she reaches the corridor where she and Rafayel spoke, Elly feels herself become tense and begins to tremble slightly.

“Everything okay, kitten?” She meets Sylus’s eyes, filled with concern, and tries to ignore her growing heart rate. She attempts a smile, but it falters.

“I don’t remember what happened,” she finally admits. “After the guard stopped me, there was a sharp pinch, then nothing. Somehow, I think that makes it almost worse.”

“You are safe now. We won’t let anything happen to you.” Sylus assures her. She wants to believe him, and part of her does, but she can’t stop shaking. She tells herself it’s just everything she’s been through in the last day, catching up with her.

“Sylus, where are we going?” she asks as they bypass her room, finally pulled out of her spiraling thoughts.

“My room is safer.” He says as he carries her into his luxurious suite. The room is unsurprisingly opulent with dark burgundy velvet and black leather furnishings. Gold accents are everywhere. Elly chuckles to herself. This is exactly what she would expect of Sylus, given everything she knows of his taste in the game.

“It's exactly how I pictured,” is all she says when he quirks an eyebrow at her for laughing. “It suits you.” His almost offended gaze softens, and he kisses her forehead before heading toward the bed.

“Wait, I need to talk to you both.” She asks, pointing at a velvet settee. Although he frowns at the request, obviously wanting her to rest, Sylus carries her to the settee and sits down, keeping her in his arms.

“This isn’t what I meant,” she protests as he settles her more comfortably in his arms, with her back against the arm of the settee. 

“We have to stay in contact, remember?” Sylus says with a smirk as Xavier sits next to them, watching her like he always does. Steady. Present. A storm she could anchor to if she let herself. He pulls her feet onto his lap and softly kneads her calves. She moans quietly. Every part of her aches—from the rawness in her throat to the dull fire blooming in her chest—but it’s the fatigue behind her eyes that nearly undoes her. 

“You didn’t need me to tuck you in, did you?” he asks softly.

Elly lets out a breath that’s halfway between a laugh and a sigh. “I figured you would pick up on that. You are always too sharp for your own good.”

“I’m flattered you picked me for the act, though.”

“It’s not an act.” Her voice is little more than a whisper, and it makes Xavier’s eyes flicker, just briefly. “I do need comfort. But I also needed Caleb to think I was just being weak. I didn’t want him to suspect the truth. I needed you to see something,” she murmurs, her voice raw and husky from overuse. Exhaustion drags at her limbs, and her breath still rattles in her chest, but at least she’s not coughing. Only once she gets this out can she finally rest.

Sylus straightens. “Go on, kitten.”

“After the Evol storm, there was a doctor. At the Fleet facility. Before Caleb got me out.” Her gaze flicks between them. “He tried to implant something in me.”

“He did what?” There’s quiet thunder in Sylus’s voice.

“I don’t know exactly what it was. I stopped him. I—I think he wanted to use it to control me. Or track me. Or worse.” 

Xavier’s brows furrowed. “Elly—”

“I fought him,” she whispers. “I tried to scream, but no one came.” Her voice broke. Her hands were clasped so tightly in her lap that her knuckles were white.

“It’s okay. You’re safe now. Take your time.” Sylus lays his hand on her clenched fists.

Elly shakes her head, eyes glassy and fearful but also furious. “He almost did it. I was losing. My muscles weren’t responding anymore. I had no strength after the prolonged contractions from the electricity Evol. My legs felt like they weren’t even mine. I could feel it pressed to the back of my neck, and I thought I was lost.” She choked on a sob. “Then Caleb burst into the room. He was so angry. Suddenly, the doctor was just… gone. Caleb didn’t say anything. He just picked me up and left. I never saw what happened to the doctor.”

Neither Sylus nor Xavier speaks for a moment. Xavier’s hands grip her calves tightly. Sylus looks like he is silently debating whether to kill someone immediately or wait for a clearer target.

After a beat, Elly pulls something from the pocket of her pants. A rectangle of plastic, barely the size of a thumb drive.

“I managed to grab this one, but he just grabbed another one.” She handed it to Sylus, who accepted it carefully, eyes narrowed.

“Do you know what it is, or its purpose?” Sylus questions. Elly shakes her head.

“I need you to figure out what it is,” she said. “But… quietly. Don’t let Caleb know.”

Xavier’s brow twitched. “Why not?”

“Because whatever this is, Caleb knows about it.” Seeing the rage in their eyes, she quickly continues. “He had already told the doctor not to use it, whatever it is. Said something about not wanting to completely alter my personality, or something like that. Since you are both from a more technologically advanced world, I figure you would be the best at helping figure out what it does.” Sylus reaches for it, and she happily hands it over to him.

Sylus looks at Xavier, something unspoken passing between them. Then he tucks the device into a small inner pocket of his coat.

“Consider it done. I’ll run an isolated scan on it tonight,” Sylus said. “No data leaks. No alerts. No ghosts.”

Elly exhales slowly and nods, but her hands are trembling again. Xavier shifts until he is beside her, kneeling in the space between Sylus’s legs, leaning in until his forehead presses to hers gently.

“You did everything right,” he murmurs. “You fought. You’re still here.” Elly’s silent for a moment.

“I don’t feel like I am,” she whispers.

“You are,” Sylus says, voice softer than usual. “And you’re not alone anymore.”

She blinks hard. She wants to believe that. More than anything. And for right now, she guesses it’s true. It may not stay that way, but for this moment, she can let herself lean on someone else for once. Even if it’s only for a short time. She finally lets her head tilt toward Xavier’s shoulder as the first tears fall—silent, weary, but cleansing.

Sylus holds her gently in his arms, setting his head on top of hers where it rests against Xavier’s shoulder. Xavier rubs circles across her back with one hand while the other holds her hands. The feeling of their hands soothing her slowly grounds Elly. After a minute, her trembling subsides, and she’s able to breathe somewhat normally. The tears dry up. She looks up, and a deep flush suffuses her skin when she realizes how entwined they have become in their attempt to calm her. Xavier is practically in Sylus’s lap with her.

“Oh gods, I’m sorry!” she tries to pull away, but neither of them draws away or looks upset.

“Don’t apologize for letting us comfort you,” Xavier says, almost fiercely. “You are deserving of comfort and support, Elly.”

“It would hurt us if you didn’t lean on us or let us help you, kitten,” Sylus affirms.

After a few minutes, they disentangle themselves, and Sylus carries Elly to the bed, waiting while Xavier turns it down for him.

“I’m filthy, I should shower first so I don’t dirty your bedding,” Elly tries to protest, but Sylus ignores her argument, laying her in the middle of the bed before climbing in next to her.

“We’ll worry about that later, kitten. Rest is more important.”

Elly rolls to her side, wincing. 

“Elly, can I double-check and make sure he didn’t implant anything?” Xavier asks tentatively.

“Caleb already checked, but that’s probably not a bad idea.” A cloud seems to cross Xavier’s face at the mention of the Farspace colonel, but he walks around to the other side of the bed and climbs in behind her as she rolls into Sylus, laying her head on his plush chest. She’s surprised how comfortable and soft it feels when he’s relaxed. His arm stretches out behind her, and he moves it out of Xavier’s way.

Carefully, Xavier moves her hair aside and his fingers ghost across the skin of her neck and upper back, moving the neckline of her shirt out of the way, as he checks for any wounds or blemishes caused by the device. The warmth of his breath fans across her skin, and the feeling of his hands as they reverently make sure she is uninjured raises a chill along her skin, and a thread of heat winds its languid way to her core. She tries to think of something else.

“We need to keep an eye on Caleb. His face. His tells. His weaknesses. I want to trust him, but I don’t know enough about him. Not like the rest of you. I’m pretty sure Rafayel is already working on it. You all are very perceptive in different ways.”

“I saw the way his eyes tracked me as I was carrying you. The way he didn’t flinch when Rafayel threatened him, but paused when you touched Rafayel’s face.”

“He’s still connected to Eliwyn,” Xavier says. “But he’s watching you like you’re a live wire. Like you’re wrong.”

Elly nods faintly. “I think he’s waiting for me to crack. Or revert. Or prove I’m not… real.”

“You are real,” Xavier says firmly.

There’s a long pause, broken only by the sound of the air purifier humming faintly in the corner.

“I may have to bait him if we can’t figure out what is going on with the fleet or how they are involved in all this,” she says finally. “Push him just far enough that he tells us what he’s hiding. I get the feeling there’s more than he’s letting on.”

Xavier’s jaw tightens. “And what if he pushes back harder than you expect?”

“I know it’s dangerous,” she admits, quailing at the thought of everything that could go wrong, before firming her resolve. “If he does, we’ll be ready. Right?”

She cranes her neck to meet his gaze. Vulnerable. Honest.

He doesn’t look away. “Always.”

They lay in silence for a beat. The bed shifts as Xavier begins to climb off of it.

Elly reaches out behind her, her hand trembling, and he catches it in his and laces her fingers through his.

“Stay until I fall asleep?” She asks, her voice sounding small in her ears.

“Of course.” Xavier climbs back in, fully clothed, and molds himself to her body along her back. His arm is around her, their fingers entwined.

“Don’t push too hard, Elly. We only just got you back.” He whispers, his breath against her neck making her shiver.

“It’s not about surviving anymore, Xavier. I need to make sure there’s something safe left for Eliwyn to come back to. I owe her that.” She can feel him shaking his head behind her, but he doesn’t say anything.

As silence settles around them, Elly tries to think of a plan, despite the worsening pain in her chest, and the ticking clock she feels in every ragged breath, something that will ensure that Eliwyn can survive in this lifetime. That they are not left alone again and that they won’t need to sacrifice themselves. There have already been too many lifetimes of that.

Using his Evol, Sylus dims the lights and pulls the blanket up over them all. He shifts under Elly, rolling into her and tucking Xavier and Elly in closer to his chest, then wraps the other around her and lays it on Xavier. Elly feels the exhale of surprise from the man behind her before Xavier exhales and relaxes into her.

Sylus glances once at the faint glow of the pocketed device and then at Elly’s pale, tear-streaked face.

He doesn’t say anything else.

But his eyes are sharper than ever.

Elly lets her eyes drift shut, cocooned by Xavier’s warmth at her back and Sylus’s strength beneath her and the dangerous hope blooming in her chest that she can find a way to save them.

Chapter Text

Caleb

Caleb keeps his hands steady on the wheel of the nondescript SUV, driving precisely at the speed limit along the winding road back toward Linkon. Every few seconds, he glances at his purple-haired passenger. Still unsure why he gave in so easily to the man’s obvious manipulations. He wasn’t even trying to be subtle. The suggestion had been ridiculous, especially coming from someone his operative described as a flaky, high-strung artist.

A con man who manipulated Eliwyn into being his bodyguard.

“I’ll be honest, Caleb,” Rafayel says, voice smooth and unhurried as he taps absentmindedly on his phone. “I expected you to fight more when I suggested this little excursion.”

Caleb keeps his focus on the road. “You already got what you wanted, I don’t know what you are trying to gain by continuing to provoke me.”

“Oh, I’m not provoking,” Rafayel replies, pausing in front of him. “Just making sure we are on the same page. You only agreed to this because you think Carter is a threat to Eliwyn, yeah?” 

“Why do you care? You don’t think we will be able to get Eliwyn back anyway,” Caleb breathes in slowly through his nose, fractionally longer than necessary. His heart rate stays steady. The chip remains dormant. As the city nears, he flexes gloved fingers on the wheel, closing in on their target.

“Because I don’t think either of them will be safe with you.” Caleb registers the flicker in his chest. Small. Manageable. A low-grade pressure is trying to form into something more. He isolates it before it takes shape. Dissociates from it before it can affect him. 

That was personal. Too close. He pushes it back. Can’t allow the chip to kick in. He’s been walking a knife’s edge since discovering Colonel Heath had taken Eliwyn to be interrogated. It was particularly difficult when she told him she wasn’t Eliwyn. Luckily, after that single moment of despair, he was immediately flooded with disbelief so strong it short-circuited the chip's process and turned off the memory erasure.

The only explanation for her assertion that she is someone else is that somehow his Eliwyn has been reset again as a result of dying and being brought back. Perhaps after the injuries that caused her initial hospitalization. Likely, her belief that she is from another world is thanks to some post-hypnotic treatment or technologically implanted history perpetrated by the leader of Onychinus to control her. That’s the only thing that makes sense.

How could she be anyone else? She looks like Eliwyn. Sounds like her. Feels like her. That same gravitational pull—stronger than ever. It’s the only explanation that makes sense. 

He just needs to find the lever, the right chink in her story or implanted personality. Then he will reveal the truth. If she never remembers their history together, they can start over. It’s not like he hasn’t had to start over with her countless times already.

“Tell me, Caleb,” Rafayel murmurs, mocking. “How can you promise to keep Eliwyn safe? You thought you had Eliwyn, and still, less than a day in your company almost killed her.” Another beat. Caleb’s spine remains straight. He doesn’t blink. He remains hyper-focused on the road, the man beside him, everything. Every detail, every nuance. He uses all the techniques he’s mastered since the accident. Anything to maintain emotional equanimity.

“You speak like someone who knows the full context,” Caleb says evenly. “You don’t.”

“I don’t need context to see patterns,” Rafayel replies, circling slowly. “Wherever you go, Elly gets hurt. That’s not a theory. It’s observable data.”

“From my understanding, you don’t have the best track record either. I believe she spent a week in the hospital after barely meeting you.”

“Yes, but those injuries occurred before I arrived. You were present for Elly’s and did nothing to stop them.” 

Caleb doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t allow himself to react. Instead, he makes micro adjustments to his breath so his heart rate remains stable. Despite this, he’s having trouble sustaining his blank mental state. Rafayel is getting too close to chipping at his control. He can’t afford to lose the time or the memories. So far, they have come back, but every time it happens, the chance that his little trick will fail increases.

“No,” he finally admits. “But I made sure the men who caused her injuries can never harm her again.”

“So that’s why you agreed,” Rafayel says it as though it is a fact and not a guess.

“I’m confronting Carter,” Caleb finally says. Careful to keep his voice low and certain. “Not for Elly or Eliwyn. Not for you.” He can’t let them know what he guesses about her personality implant.

“Then why?” Rafayel asks. His tone is almost curious.

Caleb’s answer is steady. “Because I don’t leave things incomplete.” As the words leave his lips, Caleb almost believes them.

They lapse into silence for the remainder of the drive. Caleb hopes their little excursion is quick. Eliwyn should be waking up soon, and he needs to spend as much time with her as possible to see if her memories are still accessible or if they are gone forever. He tries to focus on the road, on their objective. Instead of going back over Eliwyn’s every reaction. Every movement. Every expression and subconscious tells.

Remembering how they flanked her like guardians and how Eliwyn not only allowed it, but leaned on them. Gave them her trust and devotion as though they had earned it. As though they have the right. 

His emotional dissociation twinges as the image rises of how she caressed Rafayel’s cheeks and how he responded by kissing her nose. Reminding Caleb how her skin had felt so warm and right beneath his lips. The sight of Sylus cradling Eliwyn close and casually brushing aside her halfhearted objection. All of this he recorded at the time, but remained impassive. Dissociated. So it didn’t break through his emotional ambivalence. 

Even now, however, it threatens to disrupt his equanimity. Eliwyn’s behavior, her reactions are completely different. And yet, he catches glimpses—splinters of the Eliwyn he once knew, flickering through like light through a cracked pane.

The casual intimacy she allows all of them cuts deeper than any other anomaly in her demeanor. Even Zayne, who used to be so cold and distant to everyone but her. Zayne, whom he once considered a friend and sometimes rival, now appears actively angry at Caleb. Caleb walls away the emotions that threaten to rise at the reminder of Zayne’s reaction to him.

Despite that, Caleb is sure Zayne would never be a part of anything that would harm Eliwyn, like implanting a false personality. That doesn’t mean the other three aren’t involved somehow. As far as Caleb can tell, only Sylus has the necessary technology and tools at his disposal to pull off a personality implant of this depth. For a simple artist and Deepspace hunter, the procedure would be beyond their capability.

Although Caleb is beginning to think his files on the men aren’t as accurate as he had thought. They all moved together on that rooftop and at the hangar like they knew what they were doing, how to handle themselves. Even Zayne. Moved as a single unit with experience coordinating, whose sole purpose was to protect her. Covered each other like professionals, switching roles as necessary to achieve their objective. He might have been impressed if it hadn’t been used against him. Something inside Caleb twinges as the thought, but he pushes it down without acknowledging or allowing himself to recognize the nascent emotion.

Finally, they arrive at a modest home in an old, run-down neighborhood in the Philee District. It is still hours before daybreak. 

Caleb does not knock. The door to Carter’s private residence unlocks with a soft chime after Rafayel does something Caleb can’t see. The hallway beyond is dim, lined with clean, minimalist architecture and the faint smell of synthetic pine. It’s past midnight, but Caleb can tell by the light shining under the study door down the hall that Carter is still awake. Caleb can hear the rustle of pages and the faint hum of holoscreens.

As they stalk forward, Caleb notices that the artist is surprisingly light on his feet. They walk in without asking.

Carter looks up, startled, from behind a glass desk. A halo of light frames him, along with half a dozen lab reports open mid-scroll. He doesn’t speak at first. Just stares.

Caleb steps inside, Rafayel behind him, a quiet silhouette with no pretense of diplomacy.

“You couldn’t wait until morning?” Carter asks. His tone is half-wry, but tight. Defensive.

“No,” Caleb replies.

Carter’s brows flick. “To what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from the Farspace Fleet?” By the twitch of Carter’s eye, Caleb realizes the other man is aware of the Fleet’s entanglement with Ever, the new owner of Xander Sciences. That is information the artist is unaware of, and Caleb plans to keep it that way. By any means necessary.

Rafayel cuts in, sharp and precise. “This is about what happened at Akso Hospital. You ordered a kidnapping.”

Carter’s mouth twitches. His expression shifts—offense, confusion, calculation. “What does that have to do with anything? It failed, and I only kept my job because there is no one with my expertise to replace me.” His eyes flick toward Caleb, but luckily for him, he doesn’t say anything more.

“You ordered an extraction without authorization,” Caleb says. “Civilian medical ward. No warrant. No chain of command. Just a ghost team in fake med uniforms and a disappearing report.”

Carter pushes back from his chair slightly. “It was a Level 3 containment response. There were concerns about cross-contamination—either biological or neurological—from the facility where she was held before her escape. Her admission to a civilian hospital posed a potential exposure risk. Besides, I wasn’t informed of the takeover.”

“Nice try,” Rafayel interrupts, voice velvet-smooth. “If any of that were true, why were you also after Zayne?” Caleb starts in surprise, feeling a twinge in his neck before damping down on the emotion.

“How do you know about that?” Carter asks defensively, his frustration confirming the artist’s accusation. Caleb remembers that Eliwyn is the one who theorized that Carter was behind the kidnapping. What does she know about this? Is she aware of Zayne’s involvement?

“She was never the point,” Carter mutters, gaze low. “She was just proximity leverage. A variable I could use to create the right pressure. If Zayne hadn’t been so resistant, I would never have had to resort to such tactics.” The disdain in the other man’s voice is unmistakable.

Caleb watches him carefully. His hands stay relaxed at his sides, but his focus sharpens. Pulse steady. Thoughts filing into categories.

“You think that justifies it or the injuries she sustained?” he asks, voice quiet. Devoid of emotion.

“She was supposed to be unharmed,” Carter says, posture defensive. “It’s not my fault she managed to fight back and got injured.”

Caleb’s jaw tightens slightly, the smallest flicker of emotion. Not enough to surface. Just enough to log.

Rafayel exhales slowly, limbs hanging loose, but not relaxed. Restrained is the word that comes to Caleb’s mind.

“The thing about leadership is that you are responsible for the people under your command. If something goes wrong, it is your fault.”

“It seems you’ve been a naughty boy, Carter. What else have you been up to?” Rafayel asks in a mocking sing-song tone. He crosses to the desk. Carter moves to stop him, but Caleb shoves him back into his chair and pushes him back out of the way with a look that tells him to stay there before turning back to where Rafayel’s fingers swipe across the holoscreens and pull up the most recent data set still open in the margin.

Patient records. Medical overlays. Akso letterhead.

A name pops out in the file.

Elinore Wrede.

Caleb’s eyes fix on it.

Below the alias is a full scan of Eliwyn’s biometrics, dating back to the day she was first admitted. Paired with experimental data simulations. Indications of blood samples extracted and transferred to Xander Sciences from Akso Hospital. Skimming further down, Caleb sees they have Eliwyn’s complete medical history. There’s a timestamp in the top-right corner of the file.

Stamped by EVER. Dated yesterday.

He doesn’t speak. He just points to the specific information on the display so Rafayel can see it.

Rafayel stiffens. “You took these home with you?”

Carter’s face drains of color. “They were part of a flagged transfer I wasn’t supposed to hold. I didn’t realize the alias was significant—”

“This information isn’t in her medical file, and neither are the samples. Where did you get them?” Rafayel asks, voice low and sharp. Closer in tone to how he sounded at the airfield. “Where did it come from?”

“I didn’t generate it,” Carter says quickly. “I found it in the system logs. One of the hospital admins—someone with override access—attached it in a hidden file on her chart after the kidnapping failed.”

“Who?” Caleb asks.

“I don’t know.” Carter swipes a trembling hand through the air.

“Whatever this is, Ever has penetrated Akso’s infrastructure. We’re dealing with an embedded operative with high-level admin credentials. Someone capable of editing medical records and extracting unregistered biosamples without leaving metadata traces.” Caleb surmises.

“What are you doing with them?” Rafayel presses, and Caleb sees a flicker of something in the doctor’s eyes.

“I was instructed to model potential experimental outcomes based on her biosample data. Live trials are restricted due to limited access to viable tissue, so we’re working off predictive simulations until additional material can be procured.” There’s hesitation in the doctor’s voice. Caleb sees Rafayel react to it but remains silent. Letting Caleb take the lead. Smart, since the doctor is deferring to Caleb at the moment.

“There’s more. What are you not telling us about the subject?”

“Nothing!” Carter protests until suddenly the unassuming artist pulls a knife from thin air and holds it to the doctor’s throat. Another lance of surprise threatens, but Caleb shunts it aside before it can blossom into anything the chip deems dangerous.

“Wait!” Carter protests vehemently. “I swear, the only other thing I know is that we were advised that they are working on procuring an unlimited supply.”

Puzzle pieces fall into place. Ever has her under both names. They’ve had it since yesterday. Ever is coming for her sooner than he expected. His gambit to become their weapon is failing. Caleb isn’t ready. He hasn’t been a Colonel long enough to put the final pieces in place. 

He locks that information down, emotions tight behind walls built years ago and made impenetrable since the explosion. One fact at a time. One pattern at a time. It is imperative that he maintains his emotional stability. Especially now. 

“Then we start from the inside,” Caleb says to Rafayel. “We found the leak. And we make sure no one else learns of this.”

Caleb is already pulling the files onto his drive. “We’ll need access to every admin credential that touched this alias. And the exact time stamp of when Ever received it.”

“Why now?” Rafayel asks suddenly.

“Excuse me?” Carter mentally stumbles at the sudden change in subject.

“You’ve been trying to recruit Zayne for years, right? Why go to this extreme now?”

“I heard that the girl had been kidnapped and was likely dead, and I thought I had lost my chance. So when she escaped and was admitted, I didn’t want to lose the opportunity.”

Carter hesitates. “If I help you… Will this stay quiet?” The words are barely out of Carter’s mouth before Rafayel moves, faster than Caleb would have thought possible. 

A precise strike to the back of the doctor’s neck has Carter opening his mouth in a silent gasp. Breathy and involuntary. His pupils widen, brows twitch, but he is unable to speak as his body begins to crumple in on itself, brain activity already gone. Nothing but automatic reflexes left. The artist’s strike is so precise that there’s almost no blood. Caleb is impressed despite himself and immediately revises everything he thinks he knows about the man.

Rafayel looks at Carter’s corpse for a moment, eyes devoid of feeling, before turning to Caleb. “He said it himself. No one else can take his place. Hopefully, this slows Ever down.”

Caleb meets Rafayel’s eyes with a stillness that doesn’t waver. “We need to make sure all other copies of this record are destroyed and eliminate any evidence that we were here.”

“Already taken care of. Our mechanical assistant has just arrived.” He says. Caleb wonders momentarily how they arrived so quickly and realizes that is likely what Rafayel was doing on his phone on the drive over.

With a flourish worthy of a master magician, Rafayel conjures a flame in his bare hand. 

“As for the rest, I have always found fire to be particularly cleansing.” His final words are laced with drama and theatricality.

Caleb nods in assent. Rafayel leaves for a few moments.

“This is our assistant?” Caleb looks at the mechanical crow that follows Rafayel back into the room in surprise.

“Don’t look so surprised. You of all people should know that looks can be deceiving.” The blue and pink eyes give Caleb a look that says they see more than he realizes. Caleb wants to brush it aside, but he has only survived by listening to his instincts, and those instincts are telling him not to underestimate the melodramatic artist. The killing blow he used to take out Carter was surgically precise and should not have been possible given the information from his operative. Caleb will not underestimate him again.

Ever has both names and plans to move against her soon. It no longer matters whether she’s his Eliwyn or someone new. He can’t let them get what they want. 

For now, they have a common enemy, and Caleb can figure out the truth and how to get Eliwyn’s personality back later. Or if necessary, reset her personality completely. It’s not like it would be the first time he’s gone through that with her.

He turns toward the door without another word, the name Elinore Wrede still etched behind his eyes.

***

Elly

Elly curls into the oversized sweater she donned after a much-needed shower, warmth soaking into her skin despite the estate clinic’s ever-present chill. The lights have been dimmed, but Elly still notices the slight tremble in Zayne’s fingers as he waits for the results on the latest heart scan. She has already been through a battery of tests.

“I will have Yvonne come in and help you remove those.” He reaches for his phone to contact Yvonne, adhering to some unstated agreement that Elly is not to be left alone. 

“No need,” Elly says as she reaches under her sweater to remove the sensors and places them on the desk before her. Removal complete, she glances up to find Zayne staring at the holo display.

“How long before we have the results?” Although she’s tried not to think about it, Elly can’t help feeling trepidatious about whether she is improving. Zayne doesn’t respond. The glow of the monitors casts bluish shadows under Zayne’s eyes—eyes that probably haven’t seen proper sleep since before the rooftop. 

“Zayne?” When he doesn’t respond again, Elly forces her tired and aching body out of the chair she is lounging in and lays a cautious hand on Zayne’s shoulder. He flinches, then covers her hand with his own, anchoring himself to her presence.

“Zayne, when was the last time you slept?” She asks, clearly able to see the lines around his eyes and the pallor of his skin.

“I’ll sleep once I have the results of the comparative analysis.”

“Will you be able to interpret the results in this state? You look like you’ll keel over at any moment. You need to rest. At least for an hour. Even half.”

He doesn’t look up. “Not yet. I need to make sure Sylus’s Evol is helping. I won’t be able to rest until I know.” His voice is precise, despite the exhaustion that hangs on him like a shroud. She knows that tone—precision masking desperation. He’s chasing certainty because he can’t fix what happened, can’t undo the damage of the last day, can’t erase the unknowns pressing in on all sides. 

“Hey,” She leans against the desk, still pretty weak and growing tired already, and draws his attention to her. “I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere just yet. We still have time to figure this out.”

He finally looks at her. Truly looks at her for the first time since she was escorted into the clinic area after her nap. Not as a problem to solve, or a patient, but as Elly.

The moment hovers between them—quiet, fragile, real.

“That’s not enough,” he murmurs. “I need you… healthy.” Although his face remains calm, Elly sees his Adam’s apple dip as he swallows back some emotion. Despite the strength and intelligence of the man before her, he looks so fragile. Like sculpture carved in ice. Beautiful, serene, but brittle as glass. He’s hanging on by a thread, and that thread will break if he doesn’t rest soon. 

Unable to provide any other support than her presence, Elly leans down to hug him. With a gasp, he pulls her to him until she is practically in his lap, enveloped in his embrace. She holds him close and lets him hold her in return. They remain that way for several minutes.

The door swings open.

Caleb steps in with military sharpness, expression unreadable as always. Rafayel follows two paces behind, typing something into his phone, boots echoing in a lazy rhythm. He looks up and stops, a teasing grin already curling at his lips.

“Well, well,” Rafayel drawls, eyes sweeping the scene. “Are we interrupting something?” While his voice is teasing and unaffected, Elly can hear a sharpness beneath his tone.

Zayne’s back stiffens, and he straightens without turning. Caleb’s gaze, however, slides to Elly with unsettling precision.

“I would like to see the fleet’s cardiac monitor,” Caleb says evenly, but the air tightens with his presence. “Somehow my connection to it has stopped working, and I need to confirm it’s still within approved parameters.”

“I have been monitoring it. For security reasons, all connections to outside technology have been disabled.” Zayne says flatly. Caleb is clearly unhappy with this response, but doesn’t push. Attention is drawn to the door as it opens once more, and Sylus and Xavier walk in side by side.

Not wanting to make him uncomfortable, since in the game Zayne shies away from any public displays of affection, Elly moves as though to shift away from him and is surprised when his arms tighten around her slightly. Not enough to prevent her from moving, but more of a request for her to stay. 

Although she knows she should step away, the truth is—she’s not ready. Not yet. She knows she needs to be strong, but decides she can be strong later and gladly accepts the comfort he is offering. Instead of pulling away, she shifts slightly so she is facing the others more squarely. She feels him relax slightly against her and realizes she might be providing as much comfort as she’s taking. She hopes so.

“Since you are recovered, I still have questions.” Although there is no inflection in his voice, Elly stiffens slightly at the implication in his words.

“Hardly recovered. She’s barely slept three hours,” Zayne interjects. “She needs rest, not an interrogation.” The tension tightens. Elly feels it tangling around her like an invisible thread—Zayne’s protectiveness, Caleb’s relentless scrutiny, Rafayel’s emotional misdirection. Sylus and Xavier’s silent support. All of it swirling around her.

“It’s okay. Caleb deserves answers. I’ll be fine.” Elly says, looking at Zayne with more confidence than she feels, fatigue dragging at every limb. She can tell he doesn’t believe her, but at least he doesn’t contradict her. She hates the idea of making Caleb wait any longer. He has already waited too long.

She turns back to Caleb. “What would you like to know?”

“You claim you are not Eliwyn, but how did you recognize me? You knew my name without me having to tell you. You responded when I called you pipsqueak.” He doesn’t try to hide the disbelief in his voice.

“If you still don’t believe that I am not Eliwyn, I am not sure how this is going to help. It might only make things worse.” She admits.

“Try me.” Caleb studies her. Searching. Calculating. She feels like he’s dissecting her with his eyes, hunting for flaws in her soul.

“Okay. Let me just start by saying, I am still struggling to believe I am physically here. Not just another universe, but this one specifically. It feels like insanity. Part of me still thinks I am in a coma from the attack and will wake up to find this is all a dream.”

“Cutie,” Rafayel tries to protest.

“I can’t help it, Raf. I’m trying, and I’m starting to, but sometimes it still feels like some fever dream.”

“That still doesn’t explain how you know me,” Caleb says impatiently.

“In my world, the one I was rescued from, I played a video game called Love and Deepspace. Somehow, the information in that game is based on this universe. Specifically on Eliwyn.” Elly shrugs helplessly as Caleb looks at her in disbelief.

“This is ridiculous. You can’t tell me you believe this.” Caleb looks around the room like he expects someone to agree with him or tell him it’s a joke, but they all meet his eyes with a serious expression. “If it’s true, how do you explain your reaction to finding out I am still alive? Or the kiss?” Elly feels Zayne go still against her, and there’s a sudden tension in the air. No one moves. No one breathes. She braces for judgment, but finds only raw, quiet hurt. Betrayal without accusation.

“Kiss?” The single word, without inflection, drops from Zayne’s lips into the silence. Elly opens her mouth, but Caleb beats her to the punch.

“She kissed me.” Elly flinches at the accusation in his voice. She deserves it. All of it. It wasn’t fair to Caleb. Or to Eliwyn. Or any one of them. At the time, she thought she had no choice. Could she have found a different way to stop the Evol storm? A better way? One that didn’t hurt the people she cares about? People who have done nothing but support and protect her from the moment she woke up in this world. Regret washes through her at the thought.

She looks down at her hands, clasped in front of her, absorbing it all. The accusation, the pain, the self-judgment.

“During the interrogation, I had a panic attack. In the room was an electricity Evolver. That is how I got injured. It was my fault. My lack of control over this damn Evol. I woke up in the infirmary and started to freak out again. I got hit hard and fast by another anxiety attack. I knew there wasn’t time for medication. I didn’t know how many Evolvers were nearby, so I did the only thing I could think of that’s worked to stop.” 

Finally, Elly looks up, blinking back tears. “I knew it wasn’t fair to Caleb when I did it, but I was desperate.” Elly stops and swallows. “Scared.” She finally admits. Taking a deep breath, she braces herself and looks at Caleb.

“I’m sorry. As for my reaction. I lost my mom only a couple of days before I got to the explosion in the game’s storyline. It was like losing her all over again. It felt like Eliwyn and I grieved the loss of our families together. When you turned out to be alive, it almost felt like I got part of my family back, too.” 

The tears that have been threatening to fall spill over, but Elly dashes them away. She doesn’t want anyone to think she is playing on their sympathy. Unable to stand still any longer, Elly moves to step away from Zayne, but once more his arms tighten around her. This time, in a silent apology. 

He remains sitting, but draws her to him until she stands between his legs, still facing away from him toward the rest of the room. He rests his forehead against her back shoulder and whispers “I’m sorry” so quietly she feels it more than hears it. She shakes her head. She should be the one apologizing. 

“Zayne, how can you, of all people, believe this?” Caleb finally turns to Zayne, but Zayne just looks back at him impassively. Elly almost thinks he’s not going to answer.

“I didn’t at first,” he finally admits. “Even though I watched Rafayel carry her back through a glowing portal from another world. I had her tested for dissociative amnesia and every other cognitive disorder I could think of. I ran comparative analytics on all her results against the results on file for Eliwyn. Although they are biologically identical, some differences cannot be explained by simple cognitive issues.” Zayne shakes his head. 

“Such as?” Caleb pushes. Zayne glances at Elly but doesn’t say anything.

“It’s okay, Zayne,” Elly sighs, realizing why he doesn’t want to answer. “You can tell him. Caleb already knows that the fragments in Eliwyn’s heart are an aether core.” 

Everyone in the room freezes for a second as they each realize that the others already know about it. If Elly hadn’t been watching for it, she would have missed it completely. She would laugh out loud if she weren’t so tired, physically and emotionally.

“How can you possibly know that?” Rafayel exclaims, pointing a dramatic finger at Caleb. “Weren’t you dead when Eliwyn found out?”

Caleb meets the accusation with silence.

Up until now, Elly has been very careful about what information she provides in mixed company. It wouldn’t be fair for her to reveal information that could later be used against each other. She wants them to choose what to share and what to conceal from each other. After all, although she has more information than Eliwyn, the game left many unresolved plot lines and mysterious questions without answers. Even she doesn’t know everything. What if her assumptions and surmises are wrong?

Unfortunately, Elly isn’t sure she can afford to do that here. Caleb is too unpredictable—his loyalties and motives still shrouded in shadow. Making a decision, she glances at her four erstwhile protectors for a moment before her gaze returns to Caleb.

“He knows because Eliwyn wasn’t the only test subject that escaped Gaia Research Center thanks to the Chronorift Catastrophe. Caleb was also one. Unlike Eliwyn, Caleb was never granted the mercy of forgetting.” Elly says this with as much sympathy as she can muster after the emotional wringer she has been through. 

She states it as though it is a given fact, even though it is based entirely on hints and foreshadowing from the game, combined with fan theory. Elly has always been a firm believer in this theory. The last part, however, is an educated guess. There was never any information included in the game indicating he remembers, but it stands to reason he would.

“How could you possibly know about that? No one knew. Not even Eliwyn.” His words are even, measured. But they land too softly. Discordant.

“I told you. The game.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Are you calling her a liar?” Xavier’s voice is low, dangerous. Velvet hiding steel.

“It’s okay, Xavier. Caleb, you can look through the paperwork from Gaia that Grandma Josephine left for Eliwyn if you want proof that I didn’t get it from that. There is no mention of you in them. They also don’t explain how the aethercore got into her heart. But one of the side stories in the game did. At least in part.”

“What paperwork?” Xavier asks. As his hands tighten on her slightly, Eliwyn is careful not to glance at Zayne as she responds.

“Six months after the explosion, Eliwyn received a locked file that contained documents from someplace called the Gaia Institute. It’s how she found out that the protocore in her heart is called an Aethercore. It’s also how she discovered that Grandma Josephine was one of the scientists who experimented on her.”

“I was on my way to check the project I’ve been working on when you were kidnapped. I can gather the documents after I do. Do you happen to know where Eliwyn keeps them?” Xavier offers.

Elly shrugs. “In her apartment, I imagine. The game doesn’t mention anything more specific, unfortunately. The box should be black and standard document-sized.”

“You said it is locked. Do I need to look for a key?”

“Actually, no, in the game it was a fingerprint lock.” Elly doesn’t even have to think about it. She vividly remembers the game.

Xavier frowns at this news. “I suppose we can find a way to bypass it.”

“That won’t be necessary. We already have the key.” Sylus says, voice back to his normal mocking tones. He lets the silence drag on for a moment before gesturing to Elly.

“What do you mean?” Elly asks, uncertain what he’s indicating.

“To update the security measures after you were kidnapped, I needed your fingerprints. Since it is standard hospital procedure to record them for every inpatient admission, I had them pulled from your recent stay. Imagine my surprise when it turned out to be unnecessary.”

“Sylus, please say it plainly. I am too exhausted to figure out what you are hinting at.” Elly asks, barely remaining upright at this point. She isn’t sure she would be if not for Zayne’s arms around her, keeping her anchored. 

“Your’s and Eliwyn’s fingerprints are almost identical.” Zayne shifts against her.

“What do you mean, almost identical?” Zayne’s voice sounds strange.

“They have different obliterations and distortions, but their friction ridge patterns are identical.” Elly feels a strange stillness behind her before Zayne speaks.

“That’s impossible. Even identical twins don’t have identical fingerprints. They are unique to each person.”

Chapter Text

Sylus

Sylus watches as his words ripple outward, the way a pebble might disturb the surface of still water. The room doesn't erupt. No one shouts. But something shifts—subtle, like a collective intake of breath held too long.

“I… don’t understand,” Elly says, voice thick with fatigue, confusion written on her face in bright neon. Sylus had debated waiting, knowing Elly was still weak. But after what Rafayel uncovered on his excursion, he couldn't risk the delay. Even if he had no answers himself.

Zayne frowns, not at Elly, but internally. Sylus sees that Zayne is already calculating. Mind at work to uncover the potential cause and impact.

As always, Rafayel makes it a show. He tosses up his hands like he’s heard something absurd. But his gaze flicks to Elly too quickly, too sharply. He’s checking—no, guarding.

Xavier, who had been about to leave, folds his arms and leans back, content for the moment to remain. Sylus, however, can see some realization behind the other man’s seemingly blank expression. Can practically see the gears turning. Xavier knows, or suspects, something that this information has either supported or refuted. Sylus can’t tell which.  

Over the last few hours working on the chip together, Sylus has learned that while quiet, the other man is frightfully intelligent. Despite appearing to be quiet and introspective, he applies his knowledge in surprising and innovative ways. Sylus doesn’t press. He is content to let the hunter bring it to him in his own time. 

Especially given the present company. Sylus doesn’t trust Caleb. There are layers to the colonel’s mind that Sylus has been unable to penetrate with a cursory flex of his eye. It will take concentration and time, and will inevitably alert the other man to his intrusion. Something he is not quite ready to do.

Caleb doesn't speak. Doesn't blink. But Sylus sees the shift in his stance, the way he straightens. Like a soldier on alert. The news never touches his face, but his fingers curl slightly. His jaw tightens almost imperceptibly.

“So what are you saying?” Caleb’s voice is low. Not calm, contained. “That she’s some alternate-reality clone? 

“No,” Zayne says with certainty. “Even clones have different fingerprints.” The words hang in the air longer than they should. Zayne’s fingers twitch toward the holoscreen on the desk, but he doesn’t move or let go of Elly. For which Sylus is grateful. She looks almost as exhausted as Zayne.

They need to hurry this up so she can rest. Sylus meets his gaze. Zayne flicks his eyes to Elly and back to Sylus. Silently indicating that she would benefit from Sylus’s presence. For once, Zayne isn’t trying to shoulder everything alone. Sylus doesn’t smile, he’s too tired for that, but a thread of relief coils through him. Finally, they’re acting as a team. 

Picking up his chair, Sylus sits next to Zayne. Elly looks down at him, and he raises his hand in question. Despite her obvious fatigue, the corners of her lips turn upward, and she raises her slender hand and places it trustingly in his larger one. He feels the slight draw on his Evol immediately. Despite that, she sways slightly on her feet. Zayne sways with her, and Sylus worries that they are only one revelation away from total collapse.

Rafayel steps forward. “Say what you’re actually thinking, Caleb.”

“Is she Eliwyn, or a knock off who’s easier to control?” At Caleb’s words, Elly recoils like she’s been slapped. A look of pain flashes across her face before it is suppressed. Rafayel’s eyes widen, then narrow. His jaw clenches, and he leans forward.

“She’s neither. She’s Elly,” Xavier says firmly. By the subtle shift in his posture, Sylus can see his readiness if action is required. Sylus is beginning to wonder if it will be.

Caleb glances at Elly. Just for a moment. “And what if she’s Eliwyn? What if someone,” he says, looking pointedly at Sylus, “altered her prints and erased the parts of her that made her harder to control.” He stares fixedly at Sylus, leaving no doubt as to who he thinks is behind it.

Elly flinches—not visibly, but Sylus feels it. The brief hold of breath. The way she goes completely still. By the way Zayne’s shoulders tighten, he feels it too.

“How is that possible? Eliwyn loses all her memories when she dies and resurrects. I have a whole other life’s worth of memories in another universe and time.”

“You think they fabricated every tissue layer down to dermal histology?” Zayne turns to Caleb, voice still measured. Cold as frostbite.

“It’s possible.” Caleb stubbornly asserts.

“An alteration like that would leave physical signs behind.” Zayne asserts.

Sylus taps the console. The holo display flickers, lines of biometric data scrolling until the screen settles on a highlighted diagnostic summary. The room holds still, waiting.

Ridge Flow Consistency: 100% match across major fingerprint zones (loops, whorls, arches). 

Distortion/Scar Pattern Deviation: Present – non-matching, naturally irregular.

Synthetic Marker Detection: Negative

Subdermal Ink/Resin Presence: None

Cellular Repair Signatures: Detected – consistent with biological healing, not nanomanipulation

Sylus turns the display toward Caleb, showing the conclusive results.

“How can we be sure you haven’t altered the test to show what you want us to believe?” Caleb is insistent.

“You are forgetting that we physically had to travel to another realm through a glowing portal.” Rafayel mocks, but Sylus can see the frustration evident in the set of his jaw and tension in his normally loose limbs. “One we would not have been able to access without working together.”

“Altered data isn’t proof. It’s sabotage.” Caleb’s voice sharpens. “I’ve seen people rewrite genomes for less. Are you willing to bet Eliwyn’s life on that?”

“I am sure you have access to Eliwyn’s fingerprints. Why don’t you run your own comparative analysis?” Sylus says mockingly, growing bored with the stubborn adherence to a failing hypothesis.

“Against what? How can I trust any fingerprints you provide me for Elly?”

“Surely you can access the hospital’s records for her recent stay, Colonel.” Sylus raises an eyebrow at Caleb, silently daring him to deny it. 

Rafayel’s eyes widen and fill with horror. “The hospital had Elly’s fingerprints.” Rafayel meets Sylus with intensity, but doesn’t elaborate. Sylus nods slowly at the other man to confirm he realizes the importance of that information. That is another reason Sylus decided to let everyone know about the fingerprint issue. 

According to Carter, the files he had were copied from a file sent to Ever, which means Ever already has both sets of fingerprints. If they compare the two sets of prints, they may discover that Elly isn’t an alias but a different person. What experiments and tests would they subject her to if they find out?

Having already run afoul of Ever and losing his freedom for many years because of them, Sylus was gathering intelligence on them when he discovered the Gaia Research Center and the experiments they had run on Elly. If he hadn’t already been planning on destroying them, that would have been reason enough.

Elly asks after looking between him and Rafayel several times, blinking owlishly at them. The question was in her eyes, but she didn’t ask. Perhaps thinking that they are reluctant to say anything in front of Caleb. Sylus doesn’t doubt Caleb would put it together eventually, but he doesn’t want to give him any more ammunition against Elly. Plus, he worries that another revelation will be too much for her. Better to wait until she is a little stronger.

“We can argue the how forever. But the data says what it says. If you want to perform your own tests, be my guest.” Sylus exhales slowly. 

The more people who are working on this, the faster they can uncover the connection between Eliwyn and Elly. If there had been any doubt of their being connected before, it is now completely put to rest.

“I want to take her fingerprints myself to make sure they haven’t been altered, and I want it done in a Fleet facility,” Caleb demands. Elly’s hand tightens almost painfully against his.

“No.” His answer is immediate. Implacable.

“Then I will need one of my men to bring the necessary fleet equipment so I can run the test here.”

“Your men are not allowed anywhere near her. Not after what happened.” Rafayel says adamantly.

“Then what do you suggest?”

“I particularly care if you run your test. She stays here, and your men stay there. Period.”

“Surely, there’s something we can do…” Elly begins.

“You can’t be serious!” Rafayel steps to her, turning her toward him, his hands on her shoulders as though to shake her. “Not after everything they put you through!”

“I’m not arguing, Raf. I’m saying there must be a third option. Something that doesn’t involve them coming here or me going there.” Elly says placating. She places her hands on his chest, having let go of Sylus. Xavier gives Sylus a pointed look.

“We will figure something out. In the meantime, doc, did you finish your analysis of her result?” Sylus remains outwardly calm while internally bracing.

“The results are inconclusive. There is a very small improvement, but that could be due to the rest she received, and not any actual improvement in her condition,” Zayne replies.

“In that case, we are best served to make sure she gets more of it. You, too, doctor.”

“I just need to do some research on the fingerprint anomaly, and then I will.”

“That wasn’t a suggestion, Zayne,” Sylus says sternly. “You will be no good to Elly if you allow yourself to collapse. Besides, I have some details I need to work out. I would feel more comfortable if she had one of us with her in case of an emergency.” He meets Zayne’s eyes before flicking them momentarily at Caleb to indicate why he didn’t want her left alone. Zayne nods slowly.

“Let me show you where she is staying for now.” Sylus stands, drawing Zayne to his feet as well. Despite Zayne’s obvious fatigue, he is solid on his feet.

“Looks like it’s time for bed.” Rafayel laughs as he swings Elly up into his arms.

“Rafayel! Put me down!”

“You let Sylus carry you to bed earlier. Isn’t it my turn yet?” Rafayel’s voice is teasing, but Sylus catches the tension in his grip. He’s worried too. Rafayel pouts prettily at Elly until she relents with a sigh and an exasperated chuckle. It sounds frayed at the edges. But it’s still something.

Trusting the hunter to keep an eye on their erstwhile guest, Sylus leads the others to his quarters. As soon as they are out of earshot of one Farspace Fleet Colonel, Sylus tells Rafayel and Zayne about the microchip and what happened to Elly. The fury that had been banked in the Lemurian’s eyes begins to burn once more, but Sylus ignores it.

“Zayne, could a microchip be responsible for the near-comatose state of those two guards?”

“It’s possible, but Greyson didn’t find anything on the MRI, X-ray, or CT scan. I can double-check the results.” Zayne affirms. 

As soon as they arrive at Sylus’s quarters. Zayne heads to the settee, pulling out his tablet. If he notices the change of rooms, he doesn’t comment on it. Although given his state of exhaustion and intense focus, he may not even realize it.

“Would this show up on the scan?” Sylus turns back to Zayne, handing him the microchip and the implant device.

“Depends on what it is made up of, it is possible it would be missed or be read as something else. It should show up on a sonogram, though. We don’t have a Sonosphere to run a full-body ultrasonic scan, and without it, there is a chance something could be missed.” Zayne explains.

“I will have one here by tomorrow. Please text me your preferred model.” 

“Wow, how come my room isn’t this nice?” Is Rafayel’s only comment before carrying Elly directly to the bed. Sylus quickly uses his Evol to pull back the blankets for her.

With a nod, Sylus walks around to the opposite side of the bed as Rafayel lays Elly in the middle of the large bed. She yawns a cute kittenish yawn, barely keeping her eyes open. He sits down, taking her hand in his. Rafayel holds her hand on the other side. Sylus closes his eyes momentarily, enjoying the simple sensation of her skin against his, her power sliding through him. Sylus squeezes her hand one more time before forcing himself to release it.

“Sleep well, kitten. I will be back as soon as I can.”

He brushes her hair back from her face before leaning down and kissing her temple. At the same time, Rafayel leans down to kiss her cheek. Their awareness of how near they are to each other shows in the slight hesitation in their movements. In the minute catch in Rafayel’s breath. A moment later, they sit up, and the moment is gone as though it never occurred. Neither of them looks at the other. Elly’s eyes are closed, breath shallow, but even.

Standing, Sylus turns back to the doctor who is sitting on the settee, tablet in hand. He finishes typing something, and Sylus gets a ping on his phone. It’s the equipment model. Zayne stares into space for a moment, then almost shakes himself as he looks back down at his tablet, typing something else. Without a word, Sylus walks to him and draws him to his feet, removing the tablet from his hand. As Zayne begins to protest, Sylus interrupts.

“No arguments, doctor. She needs you. Unless one of us is with her, her sleep is disturbed by frequent nightmares. I have something I have to take care of and need you to stay with her. This will help both of you.” He steers the doctor, who only puts up a token resistance before finally relenting and letting Sylus lead him to the bed, where he gently pushes Zayne down next to Elly. He squeezes the dark-haired man’s shoulder before drawing the blankets up to cover both of them. 

As he turns to shut the door, Sylus is surprised to find Rafayel right behind him.

“I thought you were going to stay and rest, too?” He says, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice.

“I will rest once Caleb is gone.” Is the flat reply. No drama or theatrics. Just mistrust and loathing. “How long will it take to decipher the chip?”

“I am not sure. The tech is far more advanced than should be possible. Luckily, so is the program I have decoding it. I would be very interested in having a conversation with whoever designed it.” Rafayel doesn’t respond for a moment. 

“I’ve been thinking,” he finally says. “After the Evol storm, her health improved almost immediately, right?”

“Yes, but Zayne’s not sure if there are long-term repercussions to allowing her Evol to get out of hand again.” Sylus, truthfully, has been having similar thoughts. He can still feel the painful bite of the cold and searing light from Zayne and Xavier’s Evols. But, he would go through that a hundred times if it would allow Elly to heal properly. Sylus felt like his soul was bleeding watching her struggle to breathe. To stand.

“That being said, I have been considering the best way to teach her to use her Evol. I had planned to wait until she had a chance to settle in.”

“Thanks to the Fleet, there’s no time for that now.” Rafayel growls.

“Exactly. I want you to teach her.” Sylus tells the Lemurian. Rafayel stops suddenly, dumbfounded.

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“Why not you? She already resonates with you, without even trying.” Sylus smirks internally at the slight pout in the artist’s voice.

“True, but she needs to do it consciously, and she needs to learn not just control, but sensitivity. Fast.”

“Didn’t you say she resonated with you at the hospital?”

“That wasn’t my healing aspect. In her desperation, she used it to form handholds that allowed her to hang on longer.” Sylus continues. “Your Lemurian senses allow you more sensitivity to feel the world around you. I want you to teach her to use her Evol in the same way.” Rafayel nods thoughtfully.

They lapse into a comfortable silence until they return to the hospital wing. When they arrive, it looks like neither man has moved from where they left them. Sylus narrows his eyes at Caleb, who is occupied with his phone. The Colonel shouldn’t have access to a signal in here. Xavier blinks sleepily as though just awoken, although Sylus isn’t fooled.

Xavier stands and stretches. “A word before I go?” He says to Sylus, who follows him into the hallway.

“I need to go check the results on the programs I was running when he stole her. The Colonel is going to have one of his men meet me and drop off one of their devices.”

“We’ll be ready to check it before we allow her anywhere near it.”

“Why are we going along with this? After everything he has done?”

“Because Elly feels connected to him.” The hunter’s eyes darken, and his fists clench. Shoulders stiff.

“She told you that?” Xavier grits out. Sylus understands the flush of anger on Xavier’s otherwise angelic-looking face. 

“I can feel it. Can’t you?” He mocks gently. The other man just shakes his head in denial and leaves.

Sylus feels Elly. The part of her soul that resides within him reaches out to all of them. He has felt it ever since the night they rescued her together. Perhaps that is what makes it so easy to accept them as a part of her life and now his. He doesn’t even mind the special looks and kisses she has given them.

After all, he’s the one she reaches for when she’s in pain or scared. He can wait for the rest, no matter how long it takes. He saw what happened when he tried to force it. She is his, as much as he is hers. He has waited an eternity for her to return to him, and he will wait an eternity more if necessary. One of the few benefits of being functionally immortal.

With a sigh, he heads back to the bedroom to allow Elly what comfort he can while his program continues to decipher the chip. Once the machine arrives for Zayne, he can have the guards scanned to see if there is a connection between their betrayal and the mind-altering chip.

For once, he is glad he didn’t immediately destroy them. If there’s any chance of the fleet getting Elly in their clutches again, Sylus needs to make sure he can nullify anything they do to her, including removing the chip if they try to implant one. Not that he plans to allow that to occur. But he’s only gotten where he is today by planning for every possible outcome.

***

Elly

Elly wakes all at once, heart thudding faintly beneath layers of warmth. For a moment, everything feels normal. Until she notices the stiffness in the arms around her. Perhaps that is what woke her. She pulls back and meets beautiful green eyes.

“You,” Zayne says, disbelieving, fragile. Voice hoarse, strangely awkward, like it’s the first word he’s spoken in days.

His eyes find hers. Then, gently, his fingers brush her cheek, tentative and reverent, as though reassuring himself that she’s real.

“Hello,” she smiles, shy and still a little dazed. Her body feels heavier than it should, her limbs wrapped in exhaustion she can’t shake. “How long have we been asleep?”

Zayne frowns at her. It isn’t annoyance. It’s something quieter. He doesn’t answer. Then he shakes himself slightly. His eyes refocus on her, and she sees confusion flash across them momentarily before their expression softens. She wonders at his momentary confusion, but brushes it off as post-sleep haze.

She shifts, trying not to pull too far away from the warmth of his hold. The soft beep of the portable Fleet heart monitor attached to her chest hums faintly against her skin. No other wires, no bright diagnostic projections. Just the steady pulse of the small monitor tracking a heart that still hasn’t found its rhythm.

“I suppose it’s time for more tests,” she says, not quite teasing. Her tone dips into something more serious. “If I’m not healing fast enough, Zayne, maybe we should focus our energy elsewhere.”

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” she exhales slowly, “If I can’t heal... and there’s a limit on how long I have—then maybe we need to shift priorities. Focus on Ever. On stopping them. On making sure Eliwyn is safe once we find her. Not wasting time on something that can’t be fixed.”

Zayne sits up slightly, pulling away just enough to look her in the eyes.

“I don’t want to hear that,” he says quietly.

“It’s just logic.”

“No,” he says, a little more firmly. “It’s fear. And you don’t have to carry it by yourself.”

“I’m not afraid,” she says, trying to convince herself, as well as him. “I’m trying to be realistic.”

He brushes a strand of hair from her face. His fingers linger by her temple.

“You think I care more about Eliwyn than about you?” he says carefully.

“I think—” her voice wavers “—that Eliwyn is someone who matters to this world. The game is clear about that. Whatever else is going on, she’s important. Imperative even. And I’m… an interloper. Borrowed from another world. We should be focusing on her.” 

Zayne goes very still.

Then, with deliberate slowness, he lifts her hand to his chest. Places it over his heart. Let's her feel the steady thrum beneath his ribs.

“You’re not an interloper,” he says. “You’re not borrowed. You’re here. However you came to be here, I think you were always meant to be here. With me. With us.”

She feels an ache rise in her throat. Her fingers curl against the fabric of his shirt.

“No,” she whispers. “She is supposed to be here with you. We’ll find Eliwyn and get her back.” And he will forget all about her. Her heart breaks at the thought, but she shoves that aside for now.

Zayne pulls her into him, cradles her head against his shoulder, holding her like something precious and irreplaceable.

“Then we’ll find a way to save you both,” he says. “No compromises. No trade-offs. I don't care how impossible it sounds. You matter. Not because of who you look like. You matter. To me. More than I ever would have thought possible.” Elly’s eyes widen in surprise.

The heart machine beats quietly between them. And for a moment, the future pauses—still and fragile—as if listening.

The silence between them isn’t empty. It hums with something raw and aching.

Elly stays close, her hand still resting over the slow, deliberate rhythm of Zayne’s heartbeat. Her fingertips trace a small circle against his chest, grounding herself. His warmth seeps into her skin, calm and steady, like he’s anchoring her in place.

She tilts her head slightly, just enough to see his face again. His eyes have softened, but there’s a flicker of fear behind them, half-shielded. He always tries so hard to protect her from the worst of it—even his feelings.

“Hey, I’m still here,” she murmurs, like she’s trying to convince herself.

Zayne’s gaze doesn’t waver. “And I’ll keep you here. As long as it takes.”

She nods faintly, then hesitates.

A quiet tremor moves through her, not from fear, but from something more vulnerable. Hope, maybe. Or longing. She isn’t sure which.

Her hand slips from his chest to his jaw, tentative, brushing the faint stubble along his cheek. He doesn’t move. Just watches her. Waits.

“I don’t know if it will matter in the end,” she says quietly. “But I don’t want to regret not trying.”

Zayne’s breath catches.

Her thumb brushes just beneath his eye, where shadows still linger from sleepless nights. She leans in.

The kiss is soft, uncertain at first. A question asked in silence. Her lips graze his, light as a sigh. He responds slowly, gently, as though afraid of breaking her. His hand cups the back of her head, steadying her, guiding her closer.

It’s not desperate. It’s not dramatic.

It’s two people clinging to something fragile in the dark, daring to believe in it for just a moment longer.

When they part, her forehead rests against his.

Neither of them speaks.

They don’t need to.

The quiet hum of the heart patch ticks on in the background, a soft reminder that despite everything, she’s still here.

Elly lets her eyes drift closed again for a moment, still cradled against Zayne’s chest. The kiss lingers in her mind, warm and grounding. She doesn’t want to move. Her body is still tired, limbs heavy, but not the dangerous kind of fatigue that dragged her under before. This feels... better. Still not enough, but better than before. Maybe it’s the warmth and peace of being around Zayne that’s doing it. Somehow, she always feels steadier in his presence.

But the stiffness in Zayne’s arms hasn’t eased.

She shifts slightly to look up at him, only to find his gaze locked on his phone, vibrating next to him. He looks alarmed.

“What is it?”

Zayne’s brow furrows. “A notification,” he murmurs, picking it up. “Elly... It’s almost noon.”

She blinks, disoriented. “We slept that long?” It doesn’t feel like it.

He sits up slowly, one hand brushing over her hair before he forces himself to untangle from her. “Eight hours. Maybe more. We didn’t mean to—we were only going to rest for a few hours.”

Elly stretches cautiously, testing her limbs. She’s still stiff and achy, but not as bad as before. Her pulse feels a little steadier. She can still feel the gentle suction of the Fleet patch on her chest, still humming softly with its medical telemetry.

She glances at Zayne as he stands and rubs the back of his neck, clearly conflicted. “You want to run the tests again.”

“I have to,” he says, gently but firmly. “If your system stabilized overnight, it might be a sign that the resonance is working. If not, I need to map out a viable treatment plan to strengthen and stabilize your heart while we find an alternative.”

Elly sighs, tugging the blanket around her shoulders as she swings her legs over the edge of the bed. “Back to the hospital wing, then.”

Zayne offers her his hand, and she takes it without hesitation.

The walk is quiet. Their fingers brush once, twice, briefly, but neither says anything about it.

By the time they reach the hospital wing, a few of the automated monitors begin pinging softly as Zayne powers up the equipment. He checks her vitals manually first, meticulous as always, before sliding the analysis pad into place beneath her palm. The room smells faintly of antiseptic and sea air, one of the many quirks of the estate’s environment controls. Or perhaps a certain sea god was here until recently.

Then, voices approach from down the corridor. The muffled sound of a heated debate—or at least one half of it.

The door opens.

Rafayel strides in first, eyes scanning until he finds her. He’s balancing a tall tray loaded with dishes, covered in insulated domes. The scent of rich spices and fresh bread follows him in.

“Don’t say I never do anything for you,” he announces, voice bright but eyes searching. “We brought lunch.”

Behind him, Caleb follows, less theatrical but no less watchful. He’s carrying a smaller tray with teas and soups. His gaze flicks to Elly, then lingers on the Fleet patch just visible beneath the blanket draped over her shoulders.

“You look better,” Caleb says quietly.

Elly sits up a little straighter, surprised—and a little amused—at the sudden feast descending on what was supposed to be a sterile exam session.

Zayne lets out a slow breath, his focus already shifting back to the test results on the tablet in his hand. “She just woke up. Let’s get through the scans before we eat.”

Rafayel flashes him a grin but moves to set up the food anyway. “Don’t worry, Doctor. This is strategic. I know you think she hasn’t been eating enough. I even brought your favorite alternative if you think she needs the concentrated nutrition.” With a flourish, he holds up a bottle of the NutriSynth.

“She will need to drink that, I’m afraid, but I suppose she deserves another reward. As long as she eats slowly and sticks with lighter foods.” Elly grimaces at him, but holds out her hand to Rafayel for the bottle.

“I’m right here, you know,” Elly says with a small smile, her other hand resting lightly on the patch against her chest. “You could try talking to me instead of around me.”

Rafayel winks. “Talking to you is dangerous. I always end up agreeing with you.” Elly laughs, knowing that isn’t true, but happy to play along. He hands her the bottle, and she sighs before drinking it down. She makes a face as a glass is held in front of her, and she takes a quick sip to get the taste out of her mouth.

Caleb remains silent, but the tea tray is already in his hands, being placed carefully beside her. The remaining food is being set up on an empty desk nearby. Elly looks at it curiously. It doesn’t look like takeout. The combined scent of the different dishes is heavenly, and her stomach growls for the first time in days. Maybe weeks.

“Did you make this?” Elly looks from Caleb to Rafayel in surprise.

“Sure did, cutie. The Colonel over there was getting bored, so I put him to work.”

Elly looks between them, Zayne with his eyes on the screen, Rafayel arranging cutlery like it’s a banquet, and Caleb standing at the edge of it all like he doesn’t quite belong. Her heart goes out to him, although he appears to be unconcerned.

The clink of cutlery and the quiet hum of the scanner are the only sounds for a few minutes. Zayne hasn’t spoken since the tests began running again, but Elly can feel his mood has shifted—less strained, less brittle. The long rest seems to have settled something inside him.

Rafayel, on the other hand, is pure motion. He opens each dish with a practiced flourish, as if disarming a mine. A platter of spiced grains. Grilled fish flaked just so. Chicken wings. Roasted vegetables glossed in oil and herbs. It's thoughtful. Too thoughtful to be casual. He’s playing a role. She knows the rhythm of his theatrics. But something’s different. Beneath the flourish, there’s sincerity. Maybe even fear.

“All right. All done.” Zayne finally relents after running his normal battery of tests, including a stint in the MRI and CT machines again.

“Eat,” Rafayel says gently but with command, setting a small dish into her hands. “You hardly ate anything yesterday.” Looking down, she sees it contains a small selection of every dish on the desk, and something inside her melts.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked.” He admits with a sheepish expression. Almost bashfully sincere. Her heart squeezes in her chest, and she can’t help a small smile as she glances up at him. His expression is all charm on the surface, but the tension in his shoulders gives him away.

“I wasn’t hungry,” she says softly, spooning up a bite. The flavors burst warm and earthy on her tongue, and she hums in appreciation. “This is good.” She takes another bite, this time of the chicken, which Rafayel took the time to remove from the bone when serving her. She groans as her eyes close.

“Oh, my god. This might be the best thing I have ever eaten. What is this?” Caleb coughs, and Elly looks at him in surprise.

“Braised chicken wings.” He admits, a slight pink flush to his cheeks. Her eyes widen. "These are braised chicken wings? No wonder MC likes them so much.”

Rafayel pouts and sits on the edge of the desk opposite Zayne, keeping himself between her and Caleb. Not subtly.

Caleb has taken a seat nearby, perched carefully in a chair beside a monitor. His posture is relaxed, alert, but his gaze keeps flickering to Elly—not openly, but in moments. Like he’s studying her. Memorizing her. Or perhaps measuring what’s changed.

Rafayel notices. She can feel it in the sudden stillness of his body.

“See something interesting?” Rafayel asks lightly, but the tone is a wire wrapped in silk.

Caleb doesn’t look away. “Just glad she’s awake.”

Zayne exhales softly through his nose, not quite a sigh. He turns slightly toward Rafayel and gives the faintest shake of his head. Not now.

Rafayel’s smile thins.

Elly shifts, feeling the temperature of the room change around her. She sets her dish down with care.

“Caleb,” she says gently. “I didn’t get a chance to ask before—how are you alive?”

Caleb’s eyes meet hers fully then. There’s no evasion, no pause. Just gravity.

“The explosion,” she continues. “They said you didn’t survive.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he says.

“I’m glad you did,” Zayne says hesitantly.

Caleb pauses. “Thanks.”

Zayne glances up, then back to his display.

Elly watches him, wondering what he’s not saying. Then she looks at Caleb. His solemn demeanor is so different from the teasing, cheerful personality he was portrayed with in the game. Did he change as a result of the explosion or something else? He’s meticulous. Controlled. Almost dark. Maybe this is just another side of him. Like Abysswalker, Lumiere, or Foreseer.

And the way he keeps looking at her, something hidden in his expression that she both wishes she understood and is glad she doesn’t. She shivers, and his eyes flick toward her, catching every movement. Every breath. She suddenly knew how a bug under a microscope feels.

“You don’t trust me,” she says softly.

Caleb doesn’t flinch, but his expression shifts.

“I can’t tell if you have anything to do with Eliwyn’s disappearance,” he says finally. “And that worries me.”

“You don’t get to be worried,” Rafayel snaps, the words sudden and sharp. “You weren’t the one who watched her nearly die. Twice.”

“I was the one who had to decide not to stay dead,” Caleb answers quietly. “So I could come back and find Eliwyn.”

“And you found me instead,” Elly says sadly.

“Unfortunately.”

Zayne closes his eyes briefly, then stands. “That’s enough,” he says, not unkindly.

Elly stares at her hands. The tea on the tray is still warm. She takes a sip, letting the heat anchor her.

“I may not have asked to be here, but I’m here now,” she says quietly. “And I’m doing everything I can to find Eliwyn. However, you survived that explosion, Caleb… I’m glad you survived.”

Rafayel doesn’t move from her side. His hand rests just beside hers. Not touching. Not yet.

But close enough to remind her that he’s there.

So is Zayne. 

And somewhere, working to help figure out this mess are Sylus and Xavier.

Whatever happens. To her heart, or when Eliwyn returns, at least she won’t regret the time she has spent here with them. Despite the fear, the pain, and her deteriorating health. If she had to choose between returning to her world, completely healthy, or staying here, but only having a couple of months to live? 

She would choose this. 

Choose them.

Despite the storm she feels coming.

Chapter Text

Zayne

Zayne goes back over Elly’s most recent tests. Scan results hover before him in a delicate lattice of holodisplay light—three-dimensional scans, neurological analyses, cardiac Evol results, and cellular deterioration projections. All rendered in pulsing gradients of blue and gold. To anyone else, the complexity might be overwhelming. To Zayne, it is like a language that is both familiar and new. He knows that hiding within the results and data is the key to discovering or creating a treatment for Elly. It’s here. Somewhere. He can feel it.

He does not move from the console for nearly forty minutes. Not even when the rest of the lab grows quiet. Nor when the tea Rafayel left him has gone cold. His eyes stay fixed on the data trails unfolding like threads of fate.

Elly is healing. Slowly. Too slowly.

As anticipated, based on the timestamps on the Fleet monitor, she stabilizes when she is in physical contact with Sylus. Something about them keeps drawing him back, but the answer doesn’t appear. He pulls up the real-time telemetry reading on the monitor. Zayne can immediately tell that Elly is with Sylus by the stability of her heart.

Zayne traces the curves of alignment, the sharp stabilization, the stalled cellular decay. Promising. But incomplete. Temporary. Maybe they could amplify it through deliberate control of her Evol. Although the use of an Evol is largely intuitive, that only allows for blunt force, much like the Evol storm—powerful, but uncontrolled and potentially deadly. True mastery and finite control are only learned through years of practice and study. Many Evolvers don’t bother.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, jaw tight.

It is not enough.

Every projection, every simulation he runs, ends the same way. Delayed decay. Not halted. Not cured.

His mind churns, too loud, disturbing his own internal focus. There is too much he still does not understand. About the initial catalyst. How Sylus's Evol interacts with hers. How much time do they have left? Every variable, every unknown, feels like a barrier against his ability to protect her.

She needs more time. He needs more time.

To figure this out. A future, not a countdown.

Zayne exhales, palms flat on the desk, and dares to think the one thought he has not let himself say aloud.

I cannot lose her.

His heart clenches as fear rises from where he has been pushing it down, until his breath stutters and he exhales a white cloud. Frost begins to creep out from his cuffs to coat his wrist, his hand. Fingers cramping with the cold. He aches to have her close, as though proximity were all it would take to find the answer.

Unbidden, the image of her smile as he awoke with her in his arms surfaces in his mind. The memory of the warmth in her voice follows close behind. Her expression, shy but determined as she leaned into him, pressing her lips to his. Soft. Exploratory. Endearingly uncertain. Intoxicating and devastating in equal measure. It wrecked him. Still does. The heat blossoming within him banishes the cold.

How he had longed to press his entire body against hers. Wanted to meld into her completely. It had been almost overwhelming. The only fear of hurting or frightening her with the intensity of his need was the thing that held him back. It was the first time she had initiated any physical affection, and he would not take that for granted. A sort of contentment settles deep within—that she also chooses him. He will treat her trust with the sanctity it deserves.

And he will not lose her. He can see them building a life together. A future. Half-formed images press against him of a small form curled on her chest with her eyes shining at him, that he banishes before it can fully form. Too soon to think of such things, and yet it lingers in his mind. Haunting his thoughts like a ghost. Ruthlessly, he pushes it away. No time for such thoughts until he can ensure she will have a future.

Purpose and focus override everything else. His eyes settle back on the Fleet monitor results—the peaks and valleys showing the times her heart stabilized. As he flips between screens, frustration rising, a flicker catches his eye. A moment, barely half a second, when the Evol test and cardiac results overlap. He freezes. Then backtracks, hands moving faster now. Layer the data. Adjusts opacity. It’s not a perfect match, but it’s enough.

It’s not a perfect match. The Evol test isn’t run in the same way, so it doesn’t sync properly with the cardiac monitor results. But it’s enough to spark an idea on what he would need to run such a test. Not just an Evol test. One that overlays both in real time. No such test exists, but Elly’s condition and Evol demand something unprecedented.

However, because her Evol is one of resonance, it is affected by those she resonates with, as evidenced by the changing results when she is in physical contact with Sylus. To get a complete picture, he will need to see how her Evol interacts with as many others as possible.

Once he has that information, perhaps he can find a way to use it to help her. If Sylus's Evol and her resonance are what’s stabilizing her, then it has to be more than a coincidence. It is chemistry. Physics. Evol pathways. There has to be a way to make it last. Not just proximity. Not just emotion. Something deliberate. A connection. Sustained.

He straightens, movement abrupt, fueled by something sharper than panic. A plan, still half-formed but insistent, rises in his chest like heat.

He turns, grabs the tablet, and strides out of the lab without hesitation.

Sylus is in the basement garage, overseeing the installation of the new SonoSphere and testing of the two guards. Zayne finds him supervising controlled chaos as his men retrofit the cavernous garage to house the large piece of machinery. It was almost too big to fit through the expansive garage door. He assists with his Evol as necessary. He gestures with one hand, the other anchored in Elly’s. His touch never strays far from hers. He looks up as Zayne approaches.

"You look like you finally slept," Sylus says.

Zayne doesn't waste time.

"I need your help. More than that, I need your Evol."

Sylus frowns, straightening slowly. “For Elly?”

Zayne holds up the tablet.

“She’s healing when she’s near you, but the rate of regeneration barely outstrips the rate of decay. We need to find ways to amplify the effect. Maybe even sustain it—but without burning you both out.”

“How will we do that?” Elly asks, looking trustingly between Zayne and Sylus.

“Training your Evol should help, kitten.”

“That was my thought, too, but we will need more,” Zayne advises.

Sylus studies him with those sharp, cutting eyes.

“I’m listening.”

“I don’t know how yet, but to figure it out, I am going to need extensive tests. Not just from you, Elly. I need to determine not only how your Evols interact and how they impact your physical health, but also how your Evols react to other stimuli. This will require as many Evolvers as we can find. Caleb included.”

“Of course, Zayne. Whatever you need.”

“Not just that. The type of tests I need to run doesn’t exist yet, but I am pretty sure I can create them based on several existing machines—if we can reprogram them to work together in the way I need.”

“Luke, what are your thoughts?” Sylus asks, as a figure in a crow mask looks up at the question. He appears to be assisting in the installation as Greyson runs calibrations to confirm the correct setup.

“Medical equipment is a bit outside of my wheelhouse. Judging by the setup at the flower shop, however, that friend of Xavier’s might have the knowledge we need for something like that.” Zayne catches a glint of something mischievous in his eyes—the only part of the man he can see behind the mask. Sylus is already sending a message to Xavier to request his friend’s assistance before Zayne can continue.

“There’s more. These tests will need to be run in tandem, which will require more space than is currently available and duplicates of all the machinery. It would be prohibitively expensive.”

Sylus doesn’t even pause, just agrees without hesitation. Of course he does. Loyalty like his doesn’t come with conditions. Zayne is at once jealous of the other’s ability to help Elly and grateful for his assistance and support.

“I will get you a list of the necessary equipment as soon as possible.” Sylus nods and goes back to what he was doing as Zayne exits the underground garage.

Quickly, he sends a message to the other two and immediately receives affirmative responses from them. Now for the hard part. Convincing Caleb.

The lab is quiet, but Zayne’s mind is anything but as he finishes sending the list of necessary equipment to Sylus. Although Zayne is more than comfortable—his hospital salary generous, his investment income steady—the cost of outfitting an entire specialty hospital centered around Elly’s needs is beyond his financial means. He’s grateful they have Sylus and his resources, even if he knows all too well how those were likely obtained.

The scans of Elly’s vitals hum beside him, lines of data flickering over the screen. Progress, yes. Improvement. But far too slow. She’s stable for now only because Sylus won’t leave her side. That shouldn’t be the only thing keeping her alive. He leans back in his chair and closes his eyes for a moment.

Once more, that vision rises of a tiny newborn curled against bare skin. He’s about to thrust it ruthlessly out of his mind when he pauses, chasing a thread of memory. Something about a case. Buried in one of the older volumes housed in Skyhaven’s secure archive on Protocore Syndrome. An obscure journal, not digitized. He had skimmed it briefly and set it aside, unsure if it held anything useful. But now, the few details he retained begin to resurface.

A newborn. Symptoms consistent with Protocore destabilization. The infant’s vitals deteriorated rapidly after birth, its organs destabilizing from within.

But the mother had refused to let go. They tried everything—containment fields, resonance buffers—but none of it worked. Nothing.

Until she insisted: if nothing could save her child, then at least the child would feel her love as long as possible. Skin-to-skin contact. Prolonged. Physical. Constant. Despite her own weakened state, her system interacted with the infant’s just enough to hold back the destabilization. Long enough to buy time, to find other methods of support. Not a cure. Not forever. But time.

That detail had wedged itself into some quiet corner of his mind, half-forgotten until now.

Zayne’s eyes snap open.

That’s it. That’s the missing piece.

Sylus’s presence isn’t just coincidental. The touch. The proximity. The emotional tether. If they can replicate the effect—stabilize the resonance so it holds even without physical contact—they might be able to sustain her.

He grabs his tablet and pulls up the archive’s reference index. The journal isn’t available for external review, not even with his credentials. Which means he’ll need the physical copy. Not just to read it—he needs to dissect it. Every page, every footnote. Cross-reference it with Sylus’s resonance logs and Elly’s real-time vitals. It’ll take days, possibly weeks. And it has to be done here. Not in Skyhaven. Access like that requires Fleet authorization.

Zayne’s shoulders tense.

Caleb.

He rises from his seat and compiles the necessary clearance request forms on his datapad. The facts are on his side—and so is Elly’s condition. If he frames the request just right, appeals to Caleb’s logic and guilt in equal measure, it might work. He hates the thought of manipulating someone he once considered a friend.

But he will do anything to help Elly.

Without another thought, he messages Rafayel, knowing the other man is never far behind.

He finds Rafayel and Caleb on the upper terrace, gazing out over the estate grounds as the sun bleeds low against the horizon.

“Well, I’ll leave you two lovebirds to have some alone time,” Rafayel says with a wink, then vanishes into the manor in search of Elly.

Caleb’s posture is relaxed, but Zayne knows better. He’s momentarily struck by how much the other man has changed since their youth. Caleb had always been the outgoing one, the cheerful one. Zayne was the quiet, serious one, more comfortable around adults or books than with other children.

Most of the others had honored his silence with distance. Only Eliwyn had ever charged past his carefully built defenses, laughed at his solitude, and claimed him like one of her threadbare plushies. Caleb, too. She had dragged them both along in her chaotic orbit, the two of them trailing behind like shadows with nowhere better to be. Somehow, she had seen straight through his awkward quiet to the lonely boy beneath it.

Seeing the formal stiffness in Caleb now unsettles him. It feels like something’s missing. Or maybe something long hidden has simply been revealed. Even as a boy, Zayne had glimpsed flashes of cunning in how Caleb navigated the world—how he’d protect Eliwyn from bullies or teachers who didn’t understand her. Zayne had never called it out because Caleb’s motives had never been malicious.

“Caleb,” Zayne says quietly. “Or should I call you Colonel?”

Caleb doesn’t turn. “If it isn’t the good doctor.”

“I need access to Volume 9 from the secure Skyhaven Protocore collection,” Zayne says without preamble. “The physical text. For extended custody.”

That gets Caleb’s attention. He turns slightly, assessing. “What makes you think I can get you clearance to remove it?”

“Something the dean said when I made my request.” Zayne doesn’t wait for permission to continue. “There’s a case study. A newborn with Protocore symptoms. The mother stabilized the infant through prolonged contact. I think what Sylus is doing with Elly is similar. If I can confirm that, I can replicate the effect artificially. We can buy her time.”

Caleb folds his arms. “And you need my authority to remove the journal.”

“You’re a colonel. You have the clearance. I have academic access, but I can’t take it off-site.” Zayne’s tone is calm, deliberate. “Help me.”

Caleb’s expression is unreadable. “What makes you so sure this theory holds up?”

“Because Elly’s vitals improve when Sylus is near, even without intentional resonance. Because proximity matters. Because she’s dying slower than she should be—and that matters too.” His gaze sharpens. “And because you owe her.”

Caleb’s jaw clenches.

“You didn’t order the interrogation,” Zayne continues, “but she was in Fleet custody. She was injured under your watch. Whether you believe her story or not, you owe it to her to help her reclaim the time she lost in your care.”

Caleb looks away, toward the trees lining the estate wall.

Zayne presses on. “Keeping Elly alive gives us a better chance of learning what happened to Eliwyn. Are you willing to risk that?”

A long silence stretches between them.

“I want full access to the results,” Caleb says at last. “And I want to monitor the research myself.”

Zayne nods, though his jaw tightens. “Done.”

Caleb exhales slowly and reaches for his phone.

“When the courier meets with the hunter, he’ll also have the volume.”

Zayne frowns at that but doesn’t argue.

“How can you trust them?” Caleb asks, his voice measured, but disbelief lingers beneath it.

“After your death, Eliwyn fell apart.” Zayne ignores the sharp intake of breath beside him and keeps going. “She stopped taking care of herself. Didn’t sleep. Barely ate. Worked herself into the ground. Threw herself at every dangerous wanderer like she didn’t care whether she survived. Like she was punishing herself for surviving.”

He pauses, that helpless fear from those months echoing in his chest.

“She even arranged her own kidnapping to the N109 zone. Said it was for answers, and maybe part of it was. I don’t know exactly what happened. But I do know this. Someone who could’ve exploited her, taken her Aethercore, didn’t. He helped her. Got her home. Then quietly kept helping until she started to recover.”

Zayne’s voice lowers.

“We all helped. But I don’t think any of us could’ve done it alone. Without all of us, she wouldn’t have made it.”

Caleb’s throat works, but no sound comes out.

Knowing better than to leave him alone, Zayne rests a hand on Caleb’s stiff shoulder and gently guides him back toward the manor, leading him down to the hospital wing to begin preparations for the new equipment.

***

Elly

The scent of motor oil and chilled metal fills the underground garage as Elly fights off a yawn, eyes drifting over the pages of her book. She’s curled in the plush chair Sylus brought down just for her, ever thoughtful, making sure she could stay close while he oversees the installation of the new scanning equipment.

She knows if she asked, he’d carry her back upstairs to rest. But she’s barely been awake two hours. She’s not ready to go under again.

A sharp beep cuts through the quiet, pulling her attention away from the book. Dr. Greyson straightens beside the gleaming new SonoSphere, an oval-shaped device lying on its side like a half-buried egg. Lights blink as it powers on, and he gestures for the taller of the two guards to step forward for the first calibration test.

Elly tenses. This isn’t the one who drugged her in the hallway, but the memory still sends a chill up her spine. There’s something off about both men—too still, too blank. Like mannequins waiting for a signal to come alive.

Yet part of her aches with quiet sorrow. They were once normal. As normal as anyone could be in Onychinus. She remembers how this one had smiled when she first arrived, trying to put her at ease. Could that have been her if the chip had been implanted?

“Cutie, what are you up to right now?”

Rafayel’s voice cuts through the tension like sunlight through fog. He bounds out of the elevator with exaggerated cheer, and Elly perks up immediately.

“Trying to stay awake,” she says with a yawn.

“Perfect. Walk with me?” He bows low, offering a hand like she’s Cinderella at the ball. Giggling, she lets him pull her upright.

“Don’t leave the manor,” Sylus calls without looking up. “Until we confirm no one else is compromised, it’s not safe.”

“Relax, Dad,” Rafayel says, rolling his eyes. “We’ll stay inside. Promise to have her home by midnight.”

Sylus raises a brow but lets her go with a reluctant shake of his head. Rafayel leads her into the elevator and presses for the top floor. She expects him to drop her hand, but instead, he pulls her into a hug. Elly melts into it, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Just a minute more,” he murmurs.

“Are you okay?” she asks, voice quiet.

“Why? Does something need to be wrong for me to want a hug from my favorite cutie?” He teases, but the weariness in his voice doesn’t quite hide.

She doesn’t answer. She doesn’t need to.

The elevator dings. Rafayel lets her go with visible reluctance, but she slips her hand back into his. He smiles, lacing their fingers together.

“Come on. I want to show you something.”

He leads her down a long corridor, only slowing when he hears her breathing change.

“Can’t believe I get winded walking. I really need to work on my cardio.”

“That’s not cardio. That’s lung damage,” he says gently. “No workouts until Dr. Zayne clears you.”

She nods, frustration flickering in her chest. She’s always been careful. Healthy. Active. It’s hard being fragile.

At the end of the hall, Rafayel opens a plain-looking door with a mischievous grin—and Elly gasps.

A burst of warmth, light, and scent hits her all at once. They step into a lush conservatory brimming with greenery. Vines curl overhead. Wildflowers bloom in thick clumps. The ceiling stretches high above them in a dome of seamless glass, sunlight pouring through in lazy golden shafts.

“I found this on our first day here,” Rafayel says proudly. “Thought it’d be perfect for practice.”

Elly marvels at the simulated clearing ahead, but as she steps in, her breath catches. The walls, the ceiling, all glass. Open. Too open.

“Come in,” Rafayel says gently. “The view’s better from here.”

“Sylus said not to go outside.” She takes a step back, pulse quickening.

“We’re not. It’s all one-way glass—no one can see in.” He moves forward, but Elly stays rooted. Her feet won’t obey her.

Panic prickles under her skin. The conservatory’s beauty warps into threat. Glass everywhere. Too much space. Too many eyes.

“Cutie?” Rafayel turns. His smile fades as he sees her face.

“I… I can’t.” Her voice trembles.

“You’re safe. You’re with me.” He gently eases her backward, maneuvering so the view of the windows vanishes behind foliage.

Elly gasps, finally able to breathe again.

“I’ve never… I’m not…” She stumbles over the words, unsure if she’s apologizing or explaining.

“Look at me.” Rafayel waits until her gaze meets his. “No one is going to take you. Not while I’m here.”

She nods, but her body still shakes. He draws her into a smaller path and stops at a hidden grotto, warm and enclosed. A vintage divan rests there in soft shadow—mahogany legs and rich pomegranate brocade. Elly laughs, surprised by the familiar Renaissance pattern. The tension in her chest loosens slightly.

“Come here, cutie.” Rafayel sits and pulls her gently into his lap, careful not to overwhelm her. She’s stiff, but he simply rubs slow circles on her back. One hand moves along her arm, soothing. Gradually, her head drops to his shoulder.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know what to say,” she admits. Her body trembles faintly as the adrenaline fades.

“What were you thinking?”

“Just… eyes. Everywhere. Like, I wasn’t safe. Like I couldn’t move.” Her voice shakes. He holds her tighter.

“I’ve got you,” Rafayel murmurs, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You’re okay.”

Silence settles over them. Warm, not awkward. Elly’s limbs go loose. She almost drifts off.

“You gonna start drooling?” Rafayel teases. “You know that drool ruins silk, yeah?”

Elly chuckles low in her throat. “Does my drool scare you that much?”

He shifts, lifting her gently and turning her to sit in front of him. His cheeks are pink.

“Actually,” he says, clearing his throat, “there was a reason I brought you here.”

She tilts her head, curious.

“I want to see if you can use your Evol. On purpose.”

“Is that safe?”

“Now’s as good a time as any.” He leans forward. “When was your last anxiety med?”

“About ten hours ago.”

He nods. “Perfect.”

“Perfect? Shouldn’t I take one before this?”

“Maybe not,” he says gently. “If your anxiety triggers your Evol… then suppressing it might suppress your power too.”

Elly remembers the strange humming sensation in the interrogation room. She bites her lip and nods slowly.

“What if I panic again?”

Rafayel smirks. “Worst case? I kiss you.”

Her breath catches. “Worst case, huh? Way to make a girl feel wanted.”

“Oh, you’re definitely wanted,” he says, voice dipping low. Then, softer, “But right now, your safety comes first. Learning to use your Evol could help protect you.”

He brushes a thumb along her jaw, then forces himself to pull away. She swallows hard, steadying her breath.

“Okay,” she says quietly. “I’m ready.”

“Close your eyes.”

She obeys.

“All living things hum with resonance. Not just in a poetic sense, but a real, physical vibration. Beneath skin and bark, behind eyes and wings, there is motion. Cells dividing, hearts fluttering, synapses sparking like distant stars. Every breath, every heartbeat, every whisper of thought stirs the air around us. It all generates motion, heat, frequency. That’s why animals can sometimes sense each other’s presence before a sound is made. Why music can calm or disturb us. Why grief can be felt across a room. We are all sending signals, whether we mean to or not. Resonance is life’s signature.”

Elly feels herself calm as Rafayel’s soft, rhythmic, musical tone wraps around her. Her mind begins to float. Adrift and yet focused, anchored to his voice as all other sounds, all other thoughts, drop away.

“Lemurians can feel every subtle shift of air, every vibration of the world around them. It brushes against our skin as palpably as a wave upon the shore. You can learn to do this too. I want you to focus your senses internally. There’s a calm, quiet center behind your solar plexus. Can you feel it?”

It had never occurred to Elly before to find the place in her body that her anxiety stems from, but following Rafayel’s voice she quickly realizes that while her calm, quiet center is exactly where he described it, her anxiety actually seems to be centered slightly higher, closer to her sternum.

“Once you have found your center, I want you to focus on it.”

Elly doesn’t register when her brows draw together. Her entire focus is shifted inward as her breath falls into almost stillness. Not forced or counted, just soft and steady. The center is calm and quiet, but not silent. There’s a subtle thrum, more sensation than sound. A vibration so gentle that it would easily be ignored or dismissed, overwhelmed by the more intense vibration of her anxiety.

“That’s it. I want you to bathe in that feeling. Memorize it. Know that no matter what is happening, you can always come back to your center and find peace and balance. That is where your Evol lives.”

Elly does her best to memorize the feeling. The shape it holds inside her body. How it pulses with life.

“Now, hold out your hands in front of you, palm up.”

Elly did as she was bid.

“I want you to focus on the palms of your hands. Feel the vibration not of your hands but of the area just above them.”

Moving her focus to her hands, Elly is surprised when they almost begin to tingle. She tries to focus on the area just above them, as Rafayel told her.

Her breath stills as she becomes aware of a faint pulsing warmth. She focuses on the warmth. There’s another thrum or vibration, very different from the one inside her. This is deeper somehow, yet familiar. A rich reverberation that feels sonorous and smooth, yet expectant, like a waiting storm. It washes over and through her until she feels it throughout her entire being. Unconsciously, she leans towards it, drawn inexorably like the tide.

“Cutie, what are you doing?” Rafayel sounds breathless as his voice whispers across her skin and sinks into the calm center of her being. A corresponding pulse echoes back to the external thrum. To him. Not trying to mimic, but resonating in tandem. Entwined with it and through it. Like twin notes in a chord bound in harmony, each one separate and complete, yet combined somehow creating a new, distinct melody.

She doesn’t know if she leans in first or if Rafayel does. Only that suddenly, impossibly, she’s in his arms. His lips find hers like they’ve always known the way. The kiss is slow and deep, not demanding but inevitable, like a whispered promise, or the quiet fulfillment of an oath spoken long ago.

Everything narrows to the warmth of him, the press of his hand at her back, the hum of their resonance braided together like a song only they can hear.

The moment their mouths meet, something inside her loosens. Like a knot she hadn’t realized she’d been holding tight begins to gently unravel. The world tilts, not with dizziness, but with a buoyant clarity, as if everything suddenly aligns.

His lips are soft but sure, coaxing rather than claiming. Warmth floods her chest and fans outward, tingling through her limbs, a slow, spreading fire that’s not frightening but achingly alive. Her fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt without thinking, drawn by the magnetic pull of him, of this.

Emotion swells in her like tidewater. Raw, unexpected, and impossibly sweet. Not just desire, but something deeper. A sense of being seen, of being held together at the seams. She feels anchored and airborne all at once. And in that long, suspended moment, she lets herself believe that maybe, just maybe, she belongs here. With him.

They part slowly, reluctantly, as though neither of them wants to let go. His forehead rests lightly against hers, their breath mingling in the quiet space between them. Her heart pounds in her ears, the rhythm uneven but somehow steadying in his presence.

Rafayel chuckles softly, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek with gentle fingers.

“Well,” he murmurs, voice still low and a little stunned, “I wasn’t expecting that to be part of your training.”

Elly lets out a shaky laugh, the tension between them easing just enough to breathe again.

“Neither was I,” she says, eyes flicking to his with a spark of warmth, “but I think I’ll be a very committed student.”

Chapter Text

Hello All,

Yes, my real name is Becky, lol. So I had hoped to put out the next chapter with Xavier's POV, but it's just not happening this week. I am going to have to take my break a little sooner than I thought. This has been the perfect storm of weeks. The update and my emotional hangover from it didn't help. I also had a lot of appointments, and work has been crazy, so rather than force myself to put out something, I am giving myself a break. I apologize for not giving more notice, but unfortunately, sometimes that is how life goes. I will continue to write over the next couple of weeks and hope to post the next chapter, not next Friday but the following. I still really love this story, and there is still a lot going on that I want to share with you.

Thank you to everyone for your kindness and support from the start. This has been a wild ride, and I can't believe how far we have come already. Looking forward to chatting with you all. Feel free to message me if you have questions. I will be checking my emails in the meantime. Hope you all have a great couple of weeks, and we will chat soon.

Becky

Chapter Text

Xavier

The command center of Traceback II hums with the quiet energy of the Galactic Resonance Mapping Array, or grandma. Curved panels pulse with low cerulean light, casting a cool glow across the walls and sharpening the silver in Xavier’s hair. Screens display ghostly ripples over star charts, metaphysical data streams, and frequency field scans. Each more incomprehensible than the last.

Still good as new. If only the engines had survived the crash. Then again, if they had escaped unscathed, would he have left before Elly was attacked? Would she have died in her reality? He closes his eyes, silently grateful for the twist of fate that stranded them here over two hundred years ago.

Elly was worth the wait. 

Jeremiah sits next to him, calmly sifting through the mountains of data. Thanks to Sylus, they also have access to a great deal more information than just the GRMA from the Traceback II and the RMFMA data Ulysses was able to secure from Prestara University and the other nine worldwide. 

Sylus’s offer had been unexpected. He didn’t just have connections in the scientific underground—he had access. To high-tier systems. Back doors. Sensitive archives. He’d been collecting data quietly for decades.

And yet, despite the volume, something in the combined data set is triggering Xavier’s instincts. He senses a shape in the noise, though Sylus’s goals seem tangential to Elly’s situation. For now, Xavier shelves that thread.

There’s simply too much to sift through on a basic holoscreen. That’s why they’re back aboard Traceback II, Earth’s only functioning Quantum AI. Nothing else can handle this magnitude of information. Even with filters and simulations running every possible scenario by the microsecond, no pattern emerges.

The one thing the AI lacks is intuition.

Unfortunately, today, so do Xavier and Jeremiah.

Even narrowed to the window between Eliwyn’s likely birth and Elly’s appearance, the scope is massive. Like trying to isolate a single echo in a galactic storm. They’ve ruled out a few theories. Mostly the more implausible ones. But the real answer still hides beneath layers of complexity.

Xavier’s patience is fraying. At this rate, they’ll be sorting data for eternity. Elly doesn’t have that long.

“You need a break,” Jeremiah says, stretching. “You’ve been at this for sixteen hours. Let your brain reset.”

“I can’t. Not until I make some headway.” The clock ticks louder in Xavier’s head. If he can understand what happened to Eliwyn, maybe he can save Elly.

“Well, I need a break to flush the superfluous data, so to speak. I’ll be right back.” Jeremiah stands, stretching again.

Xavier snorts at his friend's euphemism. Then stops. 

Superfluous data. 

Wouldn’t an irregular, unexpected event have looked like noise? 

The anomalies they’re looking for would have been classified as corruption, system error, or sensor faults. Too ambiguous to flag. Too small to catch attention. But that’s exactly what he needs.

As Jeremiah’s footsteps fade, Xavier inputs a new filter into the AI: isolate rejected data. Outliers. Errors. Glitches. Discarded information.

“Filtering for requested parameters,” says the AI’s calm, feminine voice. He includes the medical timeline Zayne provided and overlays it with known points from Eliwyn’s history. New information blooms across the holographic display, cascading like a fractured constellation. Xavier’s eyes scan rapidly.

Junk. At first glance, all of it appears to be discredited. Disregarded by the scientific community. But it’s manageable now, and some patterns already stand out. Several of Jeremiah’s more dramatic theories can be eliminated. Not that they had much weight to begin with.

Jeremiah returns and silently hands Xavier a bottle of water. He pauses, eyeing the screen.

“I see you changed the parameters,” he murmurs, sinking slowly into his seat. He looks over the newly exposed data carefully. “That’s not just noise.”

“No,” Xavier replies. “It forms a pattern. We just don’t know what it means yet.”

Xavier leans back, exhaustion catching up all at once. His thoughts start to blur. The data begins to loop. Not because there's more to see, but because he’s too tired to make sense of it.

A reminder pings on his phone. The rendezvous with Caleb’s subordinate is soon.

He reaches for a hyper-encrypted interface cube, establishing a secure data link. Now that the filters are in place, he won’t need to be here physically to keep working. The idea of seeing Elly again gives him enough strength to move.

As he prepares to leave, a new message from Sylus flashes across his screen:

Zayne has an idea, but needs incompatible equipment to coordinate in real time. Can Jeremiah assist?

Xavier turns the screen toward his friend.

“I’ll need to pick up a few things from the shop,” Jeremiah says without hesitation.

Of course, he would. He knew her, too, back on Philos. For once, Xavier feels only gratitude for that fact.

He pockets the warm data cube, powers down the console, and sends a quick confirmation.

“I’m heading to the rendezvous point,” he tells Jeremiah. “Caleb’s man should be expecting me.”

“I’ll finish shutting down. Pick you up after?”

Xavier nods. “Yeah. I’ll try to get in a quick nap.”

He grabs his coat, tucks the cube inside, and strides out of the ship. With a quiet breath, he activates his Evol and vanishes, flashing to his next destination.

———

When Xavier arrives at his apartment, the sun is beginning its slow descent toward the horizon. Only in the last year, since allowing Eliwyn back into his life, has he put any effort into this space. What was once cold and austere is now a quiet oasis of green plants, warm light, pale wood accents, and scattered books. Stepping inside, he exhales, finally releasing a fraction of the tension that’s been winding tighter over the last sixteen hours.

He hasn’t checked on Elly in too long. He trusts the others are taking good care of her, but that doesn’t ease the ache in his chest. He needs to see her for himself. To make sure she’s still with them. Still healing. He tells himself this is all for her—that this search, this distance, is necessary. But that doesn’t make it any easier.

He drops the biometric case, bio-locked to Caleb only, on the entryway table and heads for the shower. Once the water is almost too hot to touch, he steps into the stream.

Steam curls around him as his thoughts spiral—never far, always orbiting the same star. He sees her in memory: animatedly discussing books with him, eyes bright. Laughing, quiet and unguarded, at one of his rare jokes. It’s becoming harder and harder to contain what he feels. His desire for her grows with every shared moment until it presses against the edges of his control.

He scrubs quickly, forcing his mind away from her long enough to finish. After drying off, he dresses in clean black jeans, a dark turtleneck, and his usual white jacket. He tosses a few extra outfits into his bag, then hesitates—adds several books he thinks Elly might like, based on their conversation the last time they curled up in his bed together. A moment he’s hoping to repeat.

Once packed, he heads down to Eliwyn’s apartment. Letting himself in, he moves quietly, almost reverently, through her space. It takes a little searching to find the document safe Elly mentioned. Hidden in a shoe box under a mess of random papers in the closet. He adds it to his bag.

In the living room, he pauses. The space feels preserved. Like a memory trapped in amber. He remembers the hours spent here with Eliwyn: games, movies, lazy naps. Being there for her while she mourned. Their bond had been simple, close, even comforting, but never urgent. Never overwhelming.

He had thought he’d be impatient after centuries of waiting. But he hadn’t been. Being near her had been enough. A quiet yearning, distant and contained. Unlike this—unlike what he feels for Elly. That longing is raw, immediate. A magnetic pull he can't resist.

He sinks into the couch and rests his head in his hands, thoughts circling back to Eliwyn’s disappearance. To the unanswered questions. To the pattern he hasn’t yet cracked. He considers a nap—this couch has been his bed before—but a ping from Jeremiah breaks the silence.

Almost there, the message reads.

Xavier rises with a sigh. He scans the apartment one last time before heading out, then pauses.

A glint of light catches his eye. On the TV stand sits a framed photo, the same one that had nagged at him when he met Caleb at the hangar.

He steps closer. The brown blazer, the innocent smile. Caleb. But that’s not what holds his gaze. His eyes lock on the necklace lying against Caleb’s shirt.

A necklace Xavier remembers Eliwyn wearing. Always. She never spoke about it, but after the explosion, she never took it off.

His breath catches. He knows this necklace. He’s seen it. Recently.

Realization hits like a thunderclap.

Without hesitation, he slides the photo frame into his bag, nestling it between the folded clothes.

He straightens, a crackle of tension running down his spine, the hollow in his chest widening. As he steps onto the street, Jeremiah pulls up to the curb.

“Jeremiah,” Xavier says, voice low and steady. “We need to make an unscheduled stop before we go to the estate.”

There’s no need to elaborate. Jeremiah nods.

“Of course. Where to?”

“Destiny Café. Silverbay.”

———

Moonlight begins to peek out from behind the clouds as they finally arrive at the manor after their detour. In the underground garage, most of the vehicles are gone. In their place: equipment and boxes of various shapes and sizes.

In one corner, an egg-shaped machine large enough to hold a tall man lies on its side. A line of guards trails from it. Two people in medical scrubs—strangers to Xavier—appear to be directing them, one by one, into the pod.

“Where’s Sylus?” Xavier asks, voice low but tight as he hands Luke the sealed case. His duffel bag weighs heavily on one shoulder, and a large Destiny Café sales bag is clutched in his other hand. Jeremiah gives him a look. He’s been giving him that same quiet, questioning look since they left the café. Xavier pretends not to see it.

“He’s in the hospital wing with Zayne.” Something unreadable flashes in the crow’s eyes.

“Elly?” The name slips out before Xavier can stop it. His heart kicks up, sharp and sudden, but Luke shakes his head, and the pressure eases just slightly.

“No. Last I heard, she’s in the kitchen helping with dinner.”

Xavier frowns. If her condition had significantly improved, he would have been notified. She should be resting.

Without opening the case, Luke performs several tests and even runs it through an advanced scanner.

“It’s clear of bombs, weapons, and 99% of biological agents,” Luke says. But he must see something in Xavier’s face because he quickly hands the case off to a guard. “Have Kieran take this to the Fleet Colonel.” With a nod, he turns to Jeremiah. The two of them speak in hushed tones.

Xavier doesn’t wait. He turns and heads straight for the hospital wing, forcing his legs to move faster despite the weight dragging behind his ribs. Sylus needs to see what he found. And Zayne being there is a blessing; he’ll need both of them. Not just for answers. For clarity. For grounding. For deciding how much of this to share with Elly.

When he reaches the door, he’s surprised to find it locked. He knocks, then sends a quick message to Sylus:

Im at the door. Need to speak to U & doc privately. Its urgent.

A moment later, he hears the lock disengage and enters. The black and red mist relocks the door behind him. He barely registers it. 

The sight ahead stops him. The curtained-off room beside radiology is wide open, exposing a full surgical suite. Sylus stands outside the glass, and Xavier moves toward him.

Inside, Zayne stands at a deep sink, washing up to his elbows. But it’s his posture that draws Xavier’s focus. Tall. Still. Controlled. That calm, clinical authority that had been missing in the last few days has returned. The warmth Zayne had shown since Elly woke is gone, but so is the desperation.

On the surgical table lies a body with a Y-shaped incision stitched shut in dark thread. Xavier recognizes the guard from the rooftop. The one they found after Caleb took Elly.

“What happened?” he asks, setting his urgency aside.

“Both of the guards were found to have chips like the one Elly showed us,” Sylus explains.

Zayne’s voice crackles in from a speaker overhead as he finishes scrubbing. “I attempted surgical removal. I located the chip, but before I could extract it, the patient suffered catastrophic autonomic collapse.”

Xavier’s stomach twists.

“The chip appeared completely inert beforehand,” Sylus continues. “But during the procedure, there was a surge of activity. Likely a failsafe to prevent tampering.”

A cold thread winds through Xavier’s spine.

“Have we tested Elly?”

“Yes.” Sylus meets his gaze, steady and unflinching. “Once we confirmed the Sonosphere could detect the chips, we ran a scan. She’s clear.”

Xavier exhales slowly, his body trying to release tension, but it doesn’t all leave him. He can still feel it in the line of his shoulders, the base of his neck. Sylus notices, of course, he does. The crimson gaze lingers a moment too long.

“You have news?” the crimson-eyed man asks as Zayne steps out of the surgical suite.

Zayne steps out of the sterile room just as Xavier gestures them both toward the nearest desk. He sets the gift bag down with more care than he expected. Sylus raises an eyebrow.

“I owe you a new door lock,” Xavier says as he reaches into the bag.

“Do I need to send someone to secure the café from looters?” Sylus asks teasingly, pulling out his phone.

“No need,” Xavier says, distracted. “I made sure it wouldn’t open before I left.” His voice is quieter now, more strained. “I may owe you a whole door.”

Sylus starts to reply, no doubt some pointed comment, but stops when he sees what Xavier lifts from the bag.

The room goes still.

Carefully, almost reverently, Xavier lays a familiar red shirt with black bolero sleeves on the desk. He recognized it instantly. Not just because it was one of Eliwyn’s favorites, but from the video footage burned into his memory, the one where she enters the café the night she disappeared.

Next come a pair of worn black jeans.

And finally, a cell phone. The galaxy-print case is cracked, the screen dark and scorched.

Xavier’s voice is absent now, but the air in the room is speaking for him. The weight of memory. The ache of recognition. The question none of them have asked yet, but which lives in everything he’s laid out before them.

“Where did you find this?” Sylus asks, his voice filled with a quiet sorrow. As though he had expected this from the start. Perhaps he had. Maybe more than Xavier had.

Zayne, however, grows noticeably pale and rocks back as though struck.

“That’s not all.” Without flourish, Xavier unzips one of the pockets of his jacket and removes a necklace, dog tag, and apple charm clinking together. Then, carefully, he unwraps a cloth napkin, revealing a delicate crystalline trigonal trisoctahedron. It’s dull, black, and listless. Its translucent peaks shimmer faintly with an iridescent sheen, but the core is cracked through with hairline fractures.

“Is that…?” Zayne’s voice holds both horror and awe. All detachment gone.

“Yes. It’s Eliwyn’s Aethercore. And it’s empty.”

“How did you figure it out?” Sylus asks, unusually grave.

“I stopped by Eliwyn’s apartment to pick up the files Elly mentioned. Came across this.” Xavier opens his duffel and pulls out the framed photo of Caleb.

“Something about this picture has bothered me since Skyhaven. When I saw it again, I remembered the necklace hanging from a box under the café counter when I was grabbing towels the night we rescued Elly. Must’ve been the lost and found. The rest of these were in the box, too.”

Without a word, Zayne sinks into a chair, elbows on his thighs, head in his hands. Xavier places a comforting hand on one shoulder. Sylus silently mirrors him on the other side.

Only the quiet hum of the air filters and the holoscreen fills the silence. There are no words. No tears. Just grief, and a final letting go.

After a long moment, they pull apart.

An alert buzzes on Xavier’s phone. He glances down. Traceback II.

Without speaking, he pulls out the portable interface from his duffel and strides to the holoscreen. A few quick movements, and he’s connected.

“Resonance anomaly located,” announces Traceback II’s feminine voice. The holoscreen shifts to a 3D projection, mapping intersecting frequency data. One section is highlighted. The system animates the signal for him.

A signal, an exact match to Eliwyn’s Evol waveform, resonating across time from just before the chronorift catastrophe.

Xavier freezes.

He hadn’t dared hope for this level of clarity. For confirmation this far back. His heart stutters as he isolates the night she disappeared.

As he traces the waveform, he sees something he theorized and subconsciously feared. Approximately five minutes after Eliwyn enters the café. A modulation in the resonance signature, a flicker, followed by a second modulation. Then a massive spike. The resonance flares, then vanishes. No trace. Nothing left to track.

Modulations usually happen when she resonates with someone else.

And he recognizes the second one.

“What is this?” Zayne asks, stepping to Xavier’s right. Sylus is already on his left, his eyes scanning the data with growing intensity.

“This is Eliwyn’s resonance. Picked up by machines across Linkon and worldwide,” Xavier says, pointing to the waveform.

“I wouldn’t have thought her Evol was strong enough for that,” Zayne murmurs. “Even after absorbing the second Aethercore in the N109 zone.”

“It’s not. Not exactly. Some machines are just incredibly sensitive—deepspace range. Others only register when she’s near, or if there’s a spike in resonance. The flare that night caused a feedback signature readable as anomalies or static across various sensors. By triangulating those anomalies, we tracked her Evol in real-time.”

He drills deeper into the data, isolating the spike that matches her burst. The RMFMA shows a parallel spike in metaflux frequency. CERN’s data doesn’t match in type, but it does match in timestamp.

A reverse tachyon burst. Interference. Flagged as a pattern matching a much older anomaly. Xavier files it away, but focuses on CERN’s data the night of her disappearance.

“It appears her resonance went inter-dimensional.”

Zayne’s jaw clenches. “You’re saying Eliwyn reached out across dimensions with her Evol? How?”

“It could’ve been through the deepspace tunnel, quantum tunneling, or micro black and white holes created by the Large Hadron Collider. We don’t know the method, just that it happened. What matters now is the why. And, the what.”

Zayne frowns, struggling with the physics but following. “By ‘what,’ do you mean the modulations?”

Xavier nods. “This one here—I recognize it. It’s mine.”

The words feel heavier than he expects as they leave his mouth.

“She somehow resonated with my frequency. Light-speed modulation. She sent her Evol… to Elly.”

There’s a pause, his throat tightening.

“There would’ve been enough residual energy to propel Elly into the store… if she was focused on it. Even without knowing how to use Evol, that resonance could have carried her there. If her Evol doubled in strength overnight because of that, it could explain the damage to her heart.”

Zayne’s brows draw together. “Even if Eliwyn overextended her Evol… why didn’t she regenerate? What happened to her body?”

“I did,” Sylus says quietly. “Or rather… my Evol did.” He points to the first modulation, just before the burst.

Xavier turns, searching Sylus’s face. The grief is raw. No performance, no shield. It hits Xavier like a blow. How deeply this cost them all.

“Wouldn’t your healing have saved her?” Zayne asks.

Sylus hesitates. “What I do isn’t actually healing. It’s energy manipulation. I convert matter to energy—and back again. With enough precision, I can repair damage. Or cause it.”

Xavier swallows. e=mc². It’s basic physics. But the implication…

“She converted her mass into energy,” Xavier whispers. “To fuel the transfer.”

Sylus nods.

Silence falls again. This one is heavier.

“I don’t understand how she connected with someone she’d never met. Was this a one-time anomaly?” Sylus asks.

“Wait,” Xavier says slowly. “It wasn’t.”

He opens the event from CERN and finds the flag pointing to an anomaly 14 years before.

One with not one spike, but two. A week apart.

He overlays the filtered data.

He double-checks the timestamps.

Just over a month before the chronorift catastrophe.

The first resonance spike was so severe that it affected global equipment, including Traceback II. It was written off as a cosmic ray event.

But it didn’t fade completely. A subtle vibration lingered. Weak, trembling, barely there. Trying to regenerate, but failing.

Dying.

Then… silence.

A resonance they all recognize. Eliwyn’s. 

Xavier feels something inside him fracture.

He isn’t the only one.

Sylus’s eyes are glassy. Zayne’s stare is vacant. Grief presses in from all sides.

There was no regeneration. No second chance.

Just absence.

“Elly thought the timelines, the threads of fate, had gotten tangled, that they should have been separate for each of us,” Zayne says softly. “But this isn’t a tangled thread. It’s a failed one. She didn't survive in our timeline. Whatever experiment they were running... failed.”

“That experiment resonated across dimensions,” Xavier whispers. “And in another reality, dying from an Evol she couldn’t contain, Elly’s soul recognized an opportunity. And reached out.”

For survival. For life.

He feels an ache in his chest deepening as he imagines the moment. A young Elly reaching through the dimensions, with power, with need. Desperation. Following the fragile thread of a fading resonance that matched its own. Her essence, reaching out to them.

“I think… I think that’s how she found us.”

Fear and awe settle in the room.

Xavier imagines a heartbeat—distant, faltering. But still there. Still fighting.

“What’s this interference?” Sylus asks, pointing to a faint distortion across the logs.

Xavier zooms in.

“It’s an echo,” he says quietly.  “She didn’t just sever a piece of herself. They stayed connected.”

“One soul split between two realities. It’s like… a temporal anchor across them. That’s how Elly influenced what happened here. And how Eliwyn reconnected when Elly’s life was in danger.

He exhales. Slowly. Eyes still fixed on the waveform that led them to the truth.

Not a flare.

Not a ghost.

A lifeline.

And a miracle.

***

Elly

The kitchen smells like garlic, citrus, and salt—bright and warm and deceptively peaceful. A pot simmers on the induction range while Rafayel stirs its contents with theatrical finesse, humming a tune she doesn't recognize but finds oddly calming.

“I said cubes,” Rafayel calls over his shoulder. “Not slabs.”

Caleb glares at the cutting board in front of him, where a line of vegetables sits with militaristic precision. “I’m prepping. You wanted even cuts. You didn’t say anything about size.”

“Sweetheart, I said even cuts because I was trying to be polite. You’re carving these like you're planning to interrogate them.”

Elly snorts behind her hand, trying not to laugh too loudly. She’s halfway through chopping a yellow bell pepper, though “chopping” might be a generous word. Her slices are awkward, thick in some places, too thin in others. It’s functional, not pretty. Unwilling to admit how exhausted she is, she doggedly continues.

She can feel Rafayel’s gaze on her. Again.

“You keep looking at me like that, and I’m going to accidentally add fingers to this stew,” she says without looking up.

He slides beside her a beat later, nudging her gently with his shoulder. “Then I’ll finally get that taste of you I’ve been craving.”

Caleb drops his knife with a loud clatter. “Unnecessary,” he mutters under his breath.

Rafayel raises his brows but doesn’t turn. “You alright over there, Colonel?”

“Peachy.” Caleb picks the knife back up and resumes slicing celery with aggressive precision.

Elly rolls her eyes and focuses on the pepper. Or tries to. Rafayel’s hand wraps around her wrist a moment later, guiding her into a different grip.

“You’re holding it wrong,” he says gently. “Like it’s a pen. This is a knife, cutie. You need control, not elegance. Curl these fingers in more, so you don’t cut yourself.”

He takes the knife and demonstrates, then guides her fingers back with deliberate care. His breath brushes her cheek, distracting and intimate. Caleb’s chopping gets louder. Elly tries to mimic the motion but fumbles. Her body still aches from her time aboard the fleet starship, and she’s more exhausted than she’s letting on. But she doesn’t want to go to rest yet.

“You know,” Rafayel adds with a teasing smile, “I might have to revoke your chopping privileges. For everyone’s safety.”

“I want to learn,” she says, sharper than intended. “Not just how to chop vegetables. How to use a knife. Properly.”

The grin fades from his face.

“You mean as a weapon,” he says, more statement than question.

She nods, setting the knife down. “I know you know how. You could teach me.”

“Elly...” His voice softens. “You don’t know what it costs to use one. To hurt someone. What it leaves behind, even when it’s justified.” He hesitates. “You’re not Eliwyn. You’re special. I wouldn't want you to change who you are.”

She looks away. His kind words make something bitter twist in her gut.

“I was helpless,” she says. “I remember what it felt like.” She hears a breath catch behind her.

The kitchen blurs.

In an instant, she’s no longer surrounded by warmth and steam and bickering. She’s cold. Searing. There’s blood. Silence in her throat. Fire in her gut.

Her breath catches. Won’t release. The walls are too close. The scent of lemon and shrimp oil curdles. Her chest constricts.

“Elly?” Rafayel’s voice cuts through first.

Then Caleb. “You’re not breathing. Look at me. Elly.”

But she can’t. The images are too loud. The memory has teeth.

“Elly, focus on me.” Rafayel moves in front of her now, hands tightening on her arms. “You’re here. With us. You’re safe.”

She clutches at him, trying to ground herself.

“I couldn’t stop it,” she whispers. “I couldn’t stop him.”

“No one expects you to fight a monster bare-handed,” Rafayel says softly. “But I never want you to feel like you’ve become one.”

Caleb is silent. Tense. She risks a glance and finds his jaw clenched, eyes shadowed.

“I wasn’t strong enough,” she breathes.

“You survived,” Caleb answers, voice hoarse. “That takes more strength than anything.”

Rafayel doesn’t speak. He just nods, holding her hands. Anchoring her.

She closes her eyes. Drops her hands. Breathes. Extends her exhale. Finds that still, quiet place in her center as Rafayel taught her. Rests there, for just a moment. Practicing so it becomes second nature. The memory ebbs. Not gone, but smaller. Manageable. 

When she opens her eyes again, both of them are still there. Watching. Waiting.

“I still want to learn.”

Rafayel doesn’t respond right away. His expression shifts, less teasing, more weighted. Protective.

“Elly…” he sighs, stepping back and dragging a hand through his hair. “You were winded after thirty minutes of light Evol training. You’re still recovering.”

“I’m not made of glass,” she says, though the words come out softer than she intends.

“No, you’re not,” Rafayel agrees, voice warm but firm. “But your heart hasn’t stabilized yet. Zayne would go nuclear if I started teaching you to fight right now.”

Elly opens her mouth to protest, but stops. The truth of it stings more than she expected.

“I just…” Her fingers curl on the table. “I don’t want to feel powerless again.”

“You won’t,” Rafayel says quietly. “Not while any of us are breathing.”

Her eyes flick to Caleb. He’s still watching her. Not tense now—just still. There’s something different in his gaze. Something quiet and heavy.

“We’ll figure it out,” Rafayel adds. “Just... not today. When you’re stronger, we’ll start with the basics. Self-defense. No blood. Just balance.”

She gives a small nod, the fight slowly draining from her limbs.

“Deal?”

“…Deal.”

Rafayel’s smile returns, gentle and crooked.

“And for now, maybe just focus on surviving the stew, yeah?” he teases, kissing the top of her head.

Caleb mutters, “If you two are done flirting, the stew still needs attention.”

“Relax, soldier. You’re on carrot duty.”

“No carrots!” Elly and Caleb say in unison. Rafayel looks over, a slight frown on his face.

Elly exhales, something between a laugh and a breath she didn’t know she was holding, then returns to the cutting board.

For now, it’s enough to be safe. But she won’t forget. As soon as Zayne clears her, she’s going to learn to protect herself. She never wants to feel helpless. Never again.

There’s a lull where they lapse into silence, and only homey sounds of food being prepared can be heard. Elly wipes her hands on a towel, her breathing almost back to normal. Rafayel has gone to check the simmering broth, still casting a glance her way every thirty seconds like she might dissolve if left unattended. But it’s Caleb who steps in closer now, voice quieter, more measured.

Caleb finishes slicing his vegetables, places the knife down with precision, and finally turns to her. “You said you used to make stew back home... Did you cook a lot?”

There’s something measured in his voice. Like he’s testing the weight of each word before placing it on the table.

She nods, eyeing him with mild surprise. “My mom and I tried to stick to a heart-healthy diet, which meant most of our meals were made at home. It was just the two of us. Some of my best memories are of us together in the kitchen. Singing to the radio or talking about anything and everything.”

“What did you sing?” Caleb asks. He steps up and gently maneuvers her into a chair before taking over her board. Elly’s eyes widen, but his expression remains blank. She wants to protest but doesn’t have the energy. Instead, she slumps in her seat and shrugs.

“Everything,” Elly chuckled, “But I think boy bands were her favorite. Didn’t matter what the era was. Beatles, Backstreet Boys, BTS… You name a boy band, she loved it.” She smiles a bittersweet smile at the memory.

“What about you?” Caleb, something flickering in his expression. 

“Anything I can sing to. Halsey, Kate Bush, Billie Eilish, and Amy Lee are some of my current favorites, but I listen to a lot of obscure stuff too, anything that fits my mood really.” 

“You know you just covered about fifty years' worth of music, right?” Rafayel’s laugh is teasing.

Elly shrugs. “You can blame my mom for that.”

“Sing us something… obscure,” Caleb says, focusing on his task more than is required.

“Wouldn’t it be more fun if we found something we could all sing together?” Elly asks, wondering if he’s still trying to catch her in a lie or find a crack in her personality that will lead him to Eliwyn. The thought fills her with a profound sadness.

“Humor me.” Caleb urges, tone almost wheedling, although his face is still expressionless. 

She studies him a moment, searching for the sharpness behind his words—but it isn’t there. Not really. With a sigh, Elly tries to think of one of the more obscure songs she knows by heart, since it’s not like she can look up the lyrics. Of all the songs she’s found on social media and other creative websites. There are so many, but then she remembers one she heard when she was still pretty young and laughs out loud at the thought of singing it.

“Okay, here goes,” Elly says with a smirk before launching into a rendition of The Zombie Song by Stephanie Mabey.

Before she’s more than a couple of lines into it, she can already hear Rafayel chuckling at the silly lyrics and adding harmony to the chorus. She closes with a chuckle, but a pang of nostalgia and longing rises in her. Liz is her only true friend back home. Does she even know about the attack or her disappearance?

As her merriment fades, exhaustion pulls at her limbs. She tells herself she will rest once they’ve eaten. 

“You gone awful quiet, cutie.”

“It’s nothing. Just... remembering who I was with the first time I heard it.” Her smile flickers. “She probably thinks I ghosted her.”

Rafayel’s look softens, but he doesn’t pry.

“What else?” Caleb asks. 

Elly pauses, throat tightening.

“I don’t know what more I can tell you. If you still don’t believe me, I don’t think anything I say will change your mind.” Elly sits straighter, looking him in the eye. Her patience finally snapped. Sick of trying to justify her existence in this world when she wasn’t the one who asked to come here. 

“Just a few more questions.” Caleb pushes. “I promise.” 

“Five.” Elly finally responds, leaning forward and planting her elbows on the table like she’s drawing a line between them. 

“What?” Caleb’s mask cracks slightly, and he looks slightly taken aback.

“I’m tired of trying to convince you of something you refuse to believe. You get five more questions. After that, you either believe me or you don’t, but you stop interrogating me like I’m some kind of criminal.” 

He glances at her from where he’s chopping, something almost calculated behind his eyes.

“Cutie, you don’t have anything to prove.” Rafayel’s voice is quiet, and he sets down his spoon, taking a step toward her, but she shakes her head at him. She’s okay for now.

“Fine. Five,” Caleb cuts in before she can revoke her offer. “Let’s make them count.”

“Are you sure?” Rafayel checks in with her and is rewarded by a nod and a smile, which he meets with an answering warmth that makes her heart skip.

“I’m sure.”

Caleb’s gaze locks on hers.

“First question,” he begins. “What’s the name of your favorite teacher?” That’s the opening move? Elly frowns, wondering what he hopes to get from this line of questioning.

“Mr. Kowalski,” she says slowly, then stops.

“That’s it?”

“Yes. I answered your question.”

“If I only get five questions, it’s only fair you give context to your answers, don’t you think?”

“Fine. He was my choir teacher in high school. Somehow, he made every performance feel magical.”

Caleb doesn’t react.

“Second. Who is your best friend?”

“Liz. We’ve been best friends since kindergarten. One of her moms introduced us to The Zombie Song. Even after I had to move halfway across the country, she’s the only one who kept in touch. I never got to say goodbye.” A pang of regret lances through her. At this rate, she might never get to explain anything to Liz.

“Why did you have to move?” The question comes out in a rush, surprising Elly.

“Is that your third question?”

“Sure.” Caleb pauses, stoic expression in place.

“My mom also had a heart condition. We moved so she could get a transplant. Unfortunately, it didn’t work. She died about six months ago.” There’s no performance in her words. No script. Just grief, softened by time but never really gone. Caleb doesn’t say anything, and Elly’s glad he doesn’t try to say some inane apology or awkward condolence. She never knows how to respond to those. Instead, he just lets the silence speak for him for a few minutes.

Caleb finally breaks the silence. “What was your first kiss like? Who was it?”

She blinks. Her fingers twitch, then clench. "What?"

"In your world. Presumably, you had other friends. School. Dates. Who was your first kiss in your world?"

His tone doesn’t change, but there’s something sharp beneath it. Not jealousy. Not exactly. A pressure.

Rafayel stills, one arm folding across his chest, the other still loosely holding a ladle. His smile flickers, lazy on the surface, but his gaze sharpens, every line of his body alert.

Caleb waits.

She doesn’t look at him right away. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“I think it’s a pretty basic question. If you really lived a life before this. School, college, friends, relationships. You must’ve had a first kiss. It’s simple. Anyone could answer it.”

She forces a laugh that sounds brittle. “That’s a little personal, don’t you think?”

“You agreed to five questions,” he reminds her, gaze unwavering. “This is one of them.”

She pauses, breath stuttering as she looks pleadingly at Rafayel who cocks an eyebrow at her as though to say she got herself into this. Lips quirked into a small grin, but a quiet intensity in his eyes. She realizes he’s waiting for her answer, too. Glancing back at Caleb, she finds no reprieve. 

She swallows hard. Her face is already warm. “Fine,” she mutters. “I’ve never kissed anyone before coming here.”

His gaze sharpens. Silence. For a moment, it stretches too long.

Caleb’s brows pull together. “You’re saying, never?”

“I just said that.” She grits out, wishing he would drop it.

He steps closer, skeptical. “Not even at a party? Or during some truth-or-dare thing?”

“No.”

“Not even a crush?”

“No.” The word snaps sharper than she means, and she takes a step back. The counter presses into her spine. Caleb advances, not touching her, but close enough that she can feel the heat rolling off him. His arms brace on either side of her. Caging her in.

“Why not?” He pushes, something pointed in his tone, like he doesn’t believe her. His face is still an expressionless mask, but Elly’s eyes are drawn to a throbbing vein in his temple.

“None of your business.” 

“Context, remember?” He pushes.

Her heart pounds. The edge of the counter bites into her back. An invisible heat crawls under her skin like betrayal, like shame. Her cheeks are burning. She wants to vanish into the floor.

“You don’t get to push me like this,” she says, voice faltering, shaky. Her vision tunnels slightly. Trapped, cornered, no exit.

Rafayel hasn’t said a word, but Elly can feel him watching. The easygoing smile he usually wears no longer reaches his eyes. His fingers tap once against the counter, then still completely. He’s waiting. Calculating. Coiled too tight for comfort.

Caleb’s eyes are locked on hers, intense and searching. “Then tell me why. You lived twenty-two years on your Earth. Why didn’t you ever kiss anyone? Unless you don’t know? Maybe someone forgot to include it in your programming?”

Caleb moves as though to press closer to her and a pulse of something washes through Elly. Then the shimmer of violet chains lash across the room, slamming Caleb against the wall. 

Rafayel steps forward, smooth and unhurried, but his expression is thundercloud dark.

He doesn't shout. He doesn’t need to. His silence is louder than fury.

His grip on the knives is steady, but Elly sees the tension in his jaw, the twitch in the corner of his eye.

Rafayel isn’t just angry. He’s furious. And he's holding it in for her sake.

“You don’t get to touch her,” Rafayel says with quiet menace. “Not ever.”

“I wasn’t touching her.” Caleb’s voice comes out slightly strangled, and Elly notices one of the phantom chains is wrapped around his throat.

“You were going to.”

Elly exhales sharply and turns on Caleb, Rafayel’s support giving her strength. Her voice is louder than she intends.

“You want the truth? You want to know why I never kissed anyone?”

He says nothing, but she sees the tension behind his eyes.

“Because I never wanted to,” she says, each word trembling on impact. “Because no one ever made me feel anything except anxiety or disgust. Not in my real life. Not at school. Not at a party. Not even once.”

Her fists clench at her sides. “The only people I was ever drawn to were the fictional characters in a damn game.”

She meets his eyes, her own brimming with heat and frustration. “So, is that what you wanted to hear? That I used to think there was something wrong with me? I was broken? Does that make you feel better? Knowing before being brought here, I’d never kissed anyone because no one ever made me feel safe or felt real?” She closes her eyes. It’s out now. The confession she never meant to say aloud. It hangs in the room like smoke, acrid and heavy.

The silence that follows is deafening. Rafayel watches her with something aching in his gaze, like he wants to reach for her but knows now isn’t the moment.

Caleb doesn’t move. His mask doesn’t crack. But he doesn’t meet her eyes.

Elly steps away from them both, breath shaky. She turns back to the now-empty cutting board and takes it and the knife to the sink, cleaning them, despite how her hands tremble. She gathers the other dishes they have finished with and also begins washing them, pointedly ignoring everyone else.

Caleb doesn’t say a word, even as Rafayel’s chains release him. Elly feels him move behind her, the heat of his presence cooled by the tension between them. She can feel herself dissociating from Caleb. Her outburst drained her mental and emotional energy past what she can currently handle. So she ignores him.

Rafayel doesn’t go far. He lingers by the stove, stirring with more care than necessary. Every minute or so, she feels his eyes flick her way.

Not watching for danger this time. Watching her. Like he’s not sure how she’ll react. Like, he is wondering if stepping in helped. Or made it worse.

She washes slowly, mechanically, the dishes blurring slightly. Her throat feels too tight. She doesn’t dare look up, not even when Rafayel gently bumps her hip with his as he slides past to grab a spoon.

“You’re going to end up cutting yourself if you aren’t careful, cutie,” he murmurs, voice low, concerned. “Want me to take over?”

“I’m fine,” she says flatly.

But Rafayel doesn’t move away. He hums quietly at her side, steady and grounding. He doesn’t say anything else, but the unspoken message lingers between them.

You’re not alone. 

A soft knock at the door draws all their attention.

One of Sylus’s guards enters, crisp in black tactical fabric, a sealed silver case tucked under one arm.

“Delivery for the Colonel,” the guard says with a nod, placing the case on the island counter. “Requested a biometric scanner. Retinal and fingerprint enabled. Cleared and ready.”

Elly finally glances at Caleb. His shoulders are rigid. All fluidity from prepping the vegetables is gone. She doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t offer him a nod or a glance of permission.

Just steps aside from the sink and dries her hands with a towel. 

“You can take them,” she says. Her voice is ice. “I won’t fight it.”

Caleb opens the case silently, drawing out the sleek scanner, which flickers to life with a quiet mechanical chirp.

He doesn’t meet her eyes as he gestures to the glass pad. “Right hand first.”

She lays her fingers down. The scanner glows blue, cataloguing her prints one by one. She keeps her eyes on the stew pot and pretends the chill in her chest has nothing to do with the man standing beside her. She hates how clinical everything feels. Like her memories, her pain, and her entire identity can be quantified and dissected as data points.

Caleb hesitates before moving on to the next hand. His fingers brush hers as he adjusts her position, and she jerks away like she’s been shocked.

“Sorry,” she says tightly. “I wasn’t expecting it.”

Behind them, Rafayel stirs the stew with one hand and tilts his head, watching them in the reflection of the polished lid. His eyes find hers, warm and steady.

The last scan beeps. Caleb steps back abruptly, like the space between them has grown teeth. Rafayel slides in beside her without a word, his hip brushing hers like a quiet shield.

“I’m done answering questions. Now that you have what you were waiting for, you can leave,” Elly says. “If we find out anything about Eliwyn, I’m sure someone will let you know.”

Elly moves back to the sink and continues cleaning the dishes.

Rafayel nudges her elbow again, quieter this time. “You okay?” he murmurs.

She leans against him, resting her head briefly on his shoulder. Just a moment. But long enough to say, without words: Thank you for staying.

Rafayel doesn’t speak, but he stays close. A heartbeat. A shield.

Caleb lingers by the case a moment longer, eyes unfocused, mind elsewhere. She tries not to think about him. Too tired to worry about what he thinks of her now. That will come later, she’s sure.

The sound of footsteps cuts through the thick, simmering silence of the kitchen.

Zayne enters first, the light from the hallway flashing against the lenses of his glasses. Sylus follows close behind, looking every bit the powerful crimelord. But it’s Xavier who draws Elly’s focus. He’s behind them, face exhausted but quiet and unreadable, his hands clenched around something she can’t see yet.

All three of them wear the same expression.

Heavy. Grim. Changed.

Her heart tightens. She knows that look.

“I thought we agreed you were leaving,” she says coldly to Caleb, not taking her eyes off the newcomers.

“He’s not going anywhere,” Zayne says. Calm. Firm. “Not until you hear what we found.”

Caleb’s jaw tenses. His spine stiffens like he’s bracing for a blow. He's also reading the shift in the air.

Elly places the dish back in the sink and dries her hands, motions stiff with restraint. “What is it?”

Sylus’s gaze flickers toward Xavier, then back to her. “You should sit down for this.”

“I’m fine.”

Rafayel is already moving, dragging one of the chairs from the island closer, his arm curling protectively around her. She doesn’t protest. She takes the seat, eyes on Xavier now. He hasn’t moved.

He finally exhales.

“When I was at Eliwyn’s, I remembered something from the night we rescued you,” he begins, voice soft. “I went back to Destiny Café.”

Elly frowns. Rafayel steps closer until he’s behind her, his warmth helping counteract the sudden chill running through her.

“There was a box behind the counter. I saw it while trying to find towels the night we saved you, but it didn’t mean anything at the time. Just a few things in lost and found.”

He slowly opens the brown paper bag clutched in his hands and pulls out a bundle of cloth. Once he unfolds it, Elly immediately recognizes the red and black shirt and black pants from MC in the game. It was the second outfit she got for her aside from her hunter’s uniform. She doesn’t recognize the cracked and blackened phone, but by the intake of breath and stiffness against her back, Rafayel does. 

On top of it, he lays a necklace—a silver chain with an apple charm and a dog tag.

Elly’s breath catches.

“That’s mine,” Caleb whispers. “Eliwyn gave it to me when I left for the academy.”

“She wore it every day after you died,” Elly confirms quietly, throat dry. “But how—”

“Elly,” he says. “We discovered what happened the night Eliwyn disappeared. The first night you were attacked. Because of your connection, she sent her Evol to you. It’s why it’s so strong that it’s hurting your heart. And, it’s how you escaped.”

He reaches into the bag again and withdraws something smaller. A dull black iridescent stone, with cracks running through it.

“Is that what a protocore looks like in real life?” Elly asks, reaching for it.

“No!” Several voices exclaim simultaneously, Rafayel going so far as to wrap his arms around hers so she can’t touch it. Xavier swallows, crouching slightly so he’s level with her. His voice gentles.

“The Aether Core,” Xavier says softly. “The one Eliwyn had embedded in her heart. It fell out of her shirt when I picked it up. And I think... I think I know what it means.”

 Elly can’t speak. She just stares. Zayne moves to stand next to Caleb, laying a hand on his shoulder, sympathy and grief in his eyes.

“Eliwyn isn't coming back. She never really existed to begin with.”

Elly’s breath catches. She shakes her head. Her heart clenches as her mind scrambles to make sense of it. That can’t be right. Eliwyn is their MC, she has to come back. They deserve to have their MC. They need her.

“What are you talking about?” Caleb interrupts.

No. No, she must have misheard. He must mean something else. He’s wrong.

But Xavier’s face says otherwise.

Caleb’s hand tightens on the back of her chair. She can feel him tremble, his breath shallow, uneven. He’s breaking.

The mask doesn't crack—it shatters.

“No,” he says. “No, that’s not... She’s coming back. She—”

But his words cut off.

Caleb staggers back a step, then two. Elly turns toward him. His face is twisted in horror and disbelief. Pain flashes across his face before his eyes roll back and he collapses.

Chapter Text

Rafayel

Rafayel moves before he thinks, instinct overriding irritation, caution, and the low simmer of distrust he never quite extinguishes around the man. He catches Caleb’s upper body just before it hits the floor.

Zayne is already there, easing him the rest of the way down. His fingers press to Caleb’s throat.

“He’s unresponsive,” Zayne mutters. “We need to move him to the hospital wing.”

Sylus is beside him in a blink.

Red and black tendrils of Sylus’s Evol coil around Caleb’s limp form and lift him effortlessly.

But Caleb can wait.

Elly can’t.

Her breath comes too shallow. Xavier looks like he hasn’t blinked in minutes, his arms slack at his sides, like he’s holding up the weight of everything he just said.

The necklace still glints on the counter. The Core sits next to it. Dark, inert.

Eliwyn never existed.

The words echo through Rafayel’s mind, cold and endless. He doesn’t understand. Doesn’t know if anyone here truly does. If what Xavier said is at all true, then everything has changed.

All he knows is that Elly hasn’t blinked either. She looks... cracked. Not broken—Elly is made of stronger stuff than that—but something inside her has sealed itself off.

She’s flickering at the edges like a dying flame.

He can’t let her burn out.

He steps forward and brushes his knuckles gently down her arm.

“Come on,” he says quietly. “Let’s get you somewhere safe.”

She doesn’t answer, but she lets him guide her upright.

Xavier lifts his head at that, eyes bloodshot and shadowed. He looks like he wants to speak, like the dam is barely holding. Rafayel wants him to. Wants answers to his questions, but Elly is more important, and he doesn’t think she can take any more right now, so he shakes his head once. Xavier’s jaw clenches. Then he nods, gathering the bag and duffel he must’ve dropped earlier, and follows silently.

“No,” Elly murmurs when she realizes they’re heading for the residential wing. “I need to check on Caleb.”

“There’s nothing to check yet. I promise I’ll let you know the moment anything changes.”

He watches her. Waits to see if she’ll fight him. But the tension drains from her frame like water slipping through fingers.

She nods once, her shoulders sagging.

The hallway is dim and quiet, the manor’s usual hum softened to a hush. By the time they’re halfway down, Elly begins to stumble. Her breath slows. Her eyes glazed with sleep.

Without a word, Rafayel lifts her into his arms.

She doesn’t protest. She only sighs, more fragile than he’s used to from her, and rests her head against his shoulder.

He kisses her hair.

The trust she gives him is a gift.

He needs to prove he deserves it.

“We’ve been taking turns staying with her,” he says as they reach the residential wing. “Your turn.”

Xavier gives the faintest grateful nod and ducks into his room without a word.

The door to Sylus’s quarters hisses open at Rafayel’s fingerprint. The room is shielded, soundproof, and locked down with tech that doesn’t exist outside of Sylus’s world. It smells of steel, leather, and the faint sweetness that means Elly’s been here. She’s everywhere now. Permeating every piece of him. Of his soul.

“Xavier?” Rafayel gestures with his chin as the silver-haired man reappears. Xavier lifts the blanket without needing to be told, and Rafayel lays Elly down. She barely stirs, already lost to sleep.

Rafayel takes a few moments to fuss, pulling the blanket up, brushing her hair from her face. Every motion is gentle. Intentional. He tries to ignore the way the scent of the other men overlays Elly’s in the blankets. Everyone's scent but his. He closes his eyes momentarily and does his best to ignore the flare of jealousy rising inside him. There are more important things right now.

Then he turns.

“We’ll figure out what all this means in the morning,” he says softly. “Especially what it means for her. But you—” he rests a hand on Xavier’s shoulder, “you need to sleep too.”

Xavier laughs quietly, eyes closing. “You’re not wrong.”

He sways. Rafayel steers him toward the other side of the bed and helps him sit. Covers him too. Like a ritual. Like a vow.

Then he returns to Elly’s side. Kisses her temple once.

He doesn’t want to leave. Every part of him rebels against it.

But he promised. And she’s safe. For now.

He turns, double-checks the door’s lock, and slips out into the dim hall.

He doesn’t go to check on Caleb out of concern. He doesn’t care if the bastard wakes up. In fact, if the guy never opens his eyes again, Rafayel wouldn’t lose sleep over it. But Elly might. That’s the problem.

So, fine. He’ll play nice—just long enough to find out what the hell is wrong with the one person in this manor he’d still gladly throw off a balcony.

The garage is dim and cooler than usual. Zayne and Sylus are already there when Rafayel steps inside, their low voices bouncing off diagnostic panels and tool benches. The overheads blaze brighter than before—additional lighting. Personnel move quickly under it, unboxing and setting up equipment under the careful eyes of Dr. Greyson and Luke.

A third man turns slightly. Rafayel blinks, recognizing him. The florist. The one he buys flowers from.

Really?

He scans for Zayne and finds him standing near the egg-shaped pod they’d been assembling earlier—Caleb must be inside.

“Is he stable?” Rafayel asks, skipping pleasantries.

“For now,” Zayne replies without looking up. “But I’m not happy with his pupillary reflex. And he’s still unconscious.”

“Do we even want him waking up?” Rafayel mutters. “What triggered the collapse?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” Zayne says, eyes on the monitor.

Rafayel turns to Sylus. “I thought you were taking him to the hospital wing.”

“When Zayne tried the MRI, it triggered a failsafe. Some kind of metal implant—set off the sensors,” Sylus explains. “Zayne determined the Sonosphere was safer.”

“How’s Elly?”

Zayne’s eyes flick up.

“Mentally and physically exhausted. I had her rest in your room,” Rafayel says. Sylus’s brow furrows. “Xavier’s with her.”

Sylus nods. A soft beep sounds. Zayne scans the results, and for a moment, his composure fractures—eyes closing briefly with a heavy exhale.

“This is... unexpected,” he says.

The timbre of his voice hasn’t changed, but Rafayel hears the shift. Tension. Worry.

“Chip?” Sylus prompts.

“Yes.” Zayne pulls up a scan of Caleb’s neck. Behind the clavicle, dangerously close to the vagus nerve, a familiar glint appears.

A Toring chip.

“You’re telling me he’s had that thing in his body all this time—and didn’t say a word?” Rafayel lets out a bitter laugh. “Of course. The walking contradiction forgot to mention he might be a walking time bomb.”

Zayne nods. “Same signature. But this one’s older. Possibly predates the explosion.”

“How the hell did he pass Fleet medical?”

“You’re assuming the Fleet didn’t put it there,” Sylus says quietly.

Rafayel stiffens. He doesn’t like that implication. He doesn’t like a lot of things right now.

Caleb was always too smooth. Too polished. Too controlled.

This just confirms it. Whatever’s in him—it runs deeper than even Caleb may know.

Zayne rubs at his temple. But Rafayel catches it—the flicker behind his eyes. Something he’s not saying. The tension in his spine. The shift in his voice. It's subtle, but telling.

Rafayel steps forward. “If this is about Elly, you tell me.”

“It’s not.”

He wants to press. Tear it out of him, because damn it, too much is happening. They need clarity, not more secrets. But then he sees Elly’s face again in his mind. Her hands were trembling. Her eyes lost. The way she let herself fall asleep in his arms, like he was the only thing left she trusted.

So, he let it go. For now.

“Back in Skyhaven,” Sylus says, breaking the silence, “you picked up that Fleet uniform. You still have it?”

Rafayel narrows his eyes. “Yeah. Why?”

“Because it might be the only way to figure out what they did to Caleb. And what they’re planning for Elly.”

Rafayel’s jaw clenches. His thoughts flick to the data he pulled from Carter’s systems. The simulations. The experiments. The way Carter deferred to Caleb. And the decision Rafayel made—the quick, brutal execution—because keeping him alive was a risk Elly couldn’t afford.

He doesn't regret that choice. Not after what he saw. He only regrets he couldn’t extract the full retribution the man deserved.

“Fine,” he says. “But I’ll need the jet.”

Zayne raises a brow. “You’re leaving now?”

Rafayel’s already walking. “Every second I wait, someone in the Fleet’s erasing evidence. I’ll hit Caleb’s place first. If there’s anything, I’ll find it.”

“Take Mephisto,” Sylus says. “In case you run into encrypted files. Or security systems.”

The dark-winged bird lands neatly on Sylus’s arm, head tilted toward Rafayel with uncanny intelligence glowing in its red eyes.

“You trust him?” Rafayel asks.

“With my life,” Sylus says simply. “And yours.”

Rafayel doesn’t answer. He doesn’t do trust. Not easily.

But he’ll take utility. And Mephisto looks like a walking bypass key with feathers.

Zayne studies him from the glow of the Sonosphere screen, expression unreadable.

“You sure about this?”

“No,” Rafayel says. “But I’m pissed off and out of patience, so I’ll make it work.”

Sylus hands him a comm piece. “We’ll keep the channel open. Don’t engage unless you have to.”

“I never have to,” Rafayel mutters, sliding it into place. Then adds, quieter, “If I find anything—especially about Elly—you’ll hear it first.”

Just before he steps into the corridor, he hesitates. Not for Caleb. For the girl curled up in Sylus’s bed, trusting him with her safety like it’s something he deserves.

He clenches his jaw and keeps moving.

He’ll earn that trust. Even if he has to burn a Fleet facility to the ground to do it.

———

Having already confirmed the residence is empty, Rafayel reviews the security. The house is tucked into an unassuming neighborhood on the main island, but the entry system is anything but ordinary. Too complex for a home this discreet. If he hadn’t been sure this was Caleb’s place before, he is now.

He studies the lock, calculating. He can get past it, but depending on what fail-safes Caleb installed, the attempt might still ping the colonel. Not immediately, but eventually. With time, Rafayel could disarm the entire system without leaving a trace.

“Alright, Beelzebird. You’re up. Think you can crack this without setting off any bells?”

Mephisto trills and lands on his shoulder, light as mist. Rafayel resists the urge to shove him off. At least Sylus didn’t make the thing a cat.

Thirty seconds later, the door flashes green and clicks open. No noise. No alarms.

Rafayel smirks. “Show-off.”

With the cameras already disabled, he moves through the entry like smoke. His black and violet leathers absorb the dim light, far more useful than the Fleet uniform stashed nearby. Tools over pretense. At least for now.

Inside, he stops, still as a blade, scanning for internal surveillance. Sure enough, the place lights up with sensor indicators. Before he can activate his countermeasures, the lights wink out—one after another—until a soft green all-clear flashes on his visor overlay.

“You again?” Rafayel mutters.

Mephisto, perched smugly nearby, fluffs his wings in response.

The place is just what he expected. Stark. Impersonal. A showroom pretending to be a life. No clutter. No warmth. Everything is placed for maximum utility and minimum emotion.

“What are you hiding, Caleb?” he murmurs. “Alright, flying opera rat, let’s see what you’ve got.”

Mephisto clicks indignantly, and Rafayel snorts.

They split up. While the bird runs a scan—its crimson grid casting lines over furniture—Rafayel stalks upstairs, methodical and silent.

The desk in the upstairs office is sleek and locked, but the mechanism yields easily. He finds nothing. Until he doesn’t.

In a drawer with a false bottom, he uncovers a portable drive and a photo.

Caleb, younger. Eyes softer, but still caged. Next to him stands a girl. Half in shadow. But not enough.

Elly. No—Eliwyn.

A jolt runs through Rafayel. Not shock. Not even jealousy. Just cold.

He activates the clone device and sets it to work on the drive. Then taps the comm.

“Sylus. Got something.”

A crackle, then: “Go ahead.”

“Photo of Caleb with Eliwyn. Old. Personal. There’s a drive, too. I’m cloning it.”

“Get out if there’s even a hint of a trace ping. That drive might have an alert tag.”

“So far, nothing.” Rafayel pauses. “But this place is too quiet. It’s wrong.”

“Don’t ignore instinct,” Sylus says evenly. “Mephisto’s still uplinking scans. Stay alert.”

Rafayel checks the rest of the office. The computer boots up easily—too easily. No encryption. No partitions. No real content. Just fluff. That’s not caution. That’s misdirection.

He clones it anyway.

Downstairs again, he pauses. Something’s off. The layout doesn’t match. Dimensions wrong.

Pacing the perimeter, he knocks along the wall that should border the east side. It rings hollow. Not audibly. Just... off.

A ping from his phone draws his attention. The phone Sylus gave him after Elly’s first abduction has synced with Mephisto automatically.

Most of the data so far has been routine—weapon caches, mostly—but now one readout glows red: a segment of wall with no EM signature.

“Lead-lined?” he mutters, dragging his fingers across the surface.

Mephisto chirps smugly behind him.

Rafayel frowns. “Sylus, got a dead zone. Feeds back like my signal-blocking pocket. Big one. Feels wrong.”

“Hidden room?”

“Definitely. I’m going in.”

“Cute trick,” Rafayel murmurs. “But I know a vault when I see one.”

“Any ideas on access?” he asks, but Mephisto is silent. If the bird can’t bypass the shielding, it must be top-grade.

He steps closer, fingertips trailing along the wall. No keypad. No seams. Just a blank slab pretending to be furniture. But Caleb was Fleet-trained. Meticulous. That means this isn’t just a wall. It’s a vault. A personal one.

He hums, low and experimental, adjusting the frequency while resting his palms against the surface. Waiting. Listening. Different materials vibrate differently. But this one hums back with nothing at all—silent, still, cold. Definitely lead-lined. Only worked lead absorbs like that.

Still, he hums again, sweeping his hand lightly across until—there. A faint vibration beneath his right palm.

“Voiceprint authentication initiated. Confirm identity.”

Rafayel closes his eyes. He can still hear Caleb’s voice in his head—clipped, precise, low, and firm when speaking to command. And once, almost losing control, sharp, bitten off like a swallowed oath. That tone left a fingerprint.

And Rafayel? Rafayel is a Siren. He doesn’t just mimic tone. He understands it.

“Authenticate Caleb Xia, Authority Skyhaven X-0-2.” He matches Caleb’s timbre and cadence perfectly. He remembers seeing that rank code on Caleb’s comm once. Caleb thought Rafayel wasn’t paying attention. But Rafayel is always paying attention.

“Passcode required.”

Shit .

He pauses. There’s no pattern he can guess, no insight from shared history—they barely know each other. All they have in common is Elly. Or rather, Eliwyn. Caleb knew her before. Maybe even loved her.

Rafayel scowls faintly.

“Passcode: Eliwyn Read.”

He holds his breath.

A long moment. Then: a click. A hiss. The wall slides open.

“After you, oh mighty impresario of infiltration,” Rafayel murmurs with a smirk, gesturing grandly as Mephisto hops inside.

The air is colder. Not surprising, given the chill in the rest of the house, but this is deeper—clinical. As lights flicker on, Rafayel’s smile fades. A medical cot dominates the room, surrounded by sleek diagnostic equipment. Not residential-grade. Research-level. Experimental.

He suppresses a shiver. He’s seen setups like this. But never outside a lab.

And this system? This one is bigger than what they dealt with at Carter’s. Easily ten times the capacity.

Mephisto makes a curious squawk. Rafayel checks his phone—Mephisto is already infiltrating the system, transmitting everything back to Sylus. Files, blueprints, raw data. Thank the stars. His own gear couldn’t handle a fraction of it.

A flicker on a nearby screen catches his attention—schematics, scrolling too fast to follow. For a moment, a mechanical arm. Then another. But he catches enough.

It’s Caleb’s arm.

That… is new.

Across the far wall, banks of monitors begin powering up. He nearly reacts but holds still. The screens come alive, flickering between feeds, timestamps, and encrypted overlays.

He knows those places. Locations in Linkon Eliwyn frequented. Her apartment. The estate.

Stepping forward, he scans the metadata. Surveillance. Tactical overlays. Audio logs. Digitized notes that look handwritten.

Highly encrypted. Obsessively cataloged. It’s not just intel. It’s a record. A history.

A fixation.

His jaw tightens.

“You’re transmitting a lot. What the hell is in there?” Sylus's voice interrupts his thoughts.

“A shrine disguised as a server farm. Surveillance, decryption protocols, biometrics. And files on us. Especially Elly, or rather Eliwyn.”

There’s a pause on the comm. “You okay?”

“…No. But that’s not relevant right now.”

“What’s he planning?”

“I don’t know yet. But this is personal. Not tactical. He’s not archiving. He’s remembering.”

“Be careful. Don’t poke anything you can’t explain.”

“Too late for that. There’s a buried partition—more encrypted than the rest. Small file. External link. Could be a backdoor. But I can’t trace it from here.”

“Can you pull it?” Sylus asks, intrigue evident in his voice.

“No. Not today.”

“…Mark it. We’ll need more hands next time.”

“I know. I just… Hope we don’t have to.” Rafayel adds quietly.

Mephisto taps a monitor sharply. Rafayel glances over—partition locked, but flagged. Noted.

The screens dim. Systems return to sleep.

They retrace every step. Clean up every trace. Caleb used hair as breach markers. Rafayel doesn't disturb a single one.

This isn’t his first dance with secrets.

He steps back out, retrieves the Fleet uniform he stashed earlier. It’s not time to storm headquarters. Not yet. But there’s a bar a few blocks from base—Fleet types, off-duty, loose-lipped.

He’ll start there. Gather whispers. Plant seeds.

Still, his thoughts drift. To Elly. To the soft defiance in her voice. The light in her eyes, dimmed by everything she’s endured. Everything she’s lost.

He wants to see her smile again.

She deserves a better world than this one.

And gods help them—he’s going to find a way to give it to her.

***

Elly

Thoughts whirl in a maelstrom of images, all circling one phrase—what Xavier said before they lay down. Eliwyn never existed . The words follow her into sleep, pulling her into a chaotic, fragmented world she never remembers upon waking. They echo again as her eyes open to the polished wood and gold accents of Sylus’s room. The luxury still feels foreign, another reminder she doesn’t belong here.

She must have slept at least a little—she doesn’t remember Rafayel leaving—but whether it was ten minutes ago or ten hours, she can’t say.

Exhaustion weighs on her limbs, but Elly sits up. Somewhere nearby, a vent hums softly.

Xavier breathes evenly beside her, one hand resting on the sheets as if reaching for someone—Eliwyn. Pain flares at the memory of that look in their eyes, but she pushes it down.

His silver lashes rest still against his cheek, brow furrowed even in sleep. The subtle lines that never smooth betray the exhaustion he won’t admit. Of course, none of this lets them rest. Still, the steady rhythm of his breath is a fragile comfort amid her swirling thoughts.

What he said before they lay down echoes relentlessly. Eliwyn never existed. The words strike like a dropped match in dry grass, igniting confusion and panic, not for herself, but for the impossibility of it. Eliwyn was here. They all knew her. How could she not have existed?

Xavier’s eyes held no doubt—only grief. Certainty. She pulls the blanket closer, wrapping her arms around her knees. A faint ache stirs in her ribs, a reminder she’s still healing. Her body remembers the interrogation… and what came after.

Her hand presses to her chest, where the heart monitor records her faint, irregular pulse. Alive. For now.

But it’s not the questions that make her heart pound or twist her gut like jagged glass. It’s the others—Xavier, Sylus, Zayne, Rafayel. Even Caleb, unconscious in the hospital wing. What does this mean for them? If she’s not real… if Eliwyn never existed, what becomes of the people who loved her? What will they do now that she’s gone?

She thinks of Xavier’s fierce protection and soft sincerity. Zayne’s desperate brilliance, cloaked in quiet reserve. Sylus’s steady presence, masking care beneath sarcasm. Rafayel’s laugh, fragile and haunted when he thinks no one watches. Even Caleb—silent, intense, impossible to read.

They all carry pain, and something cracks open inside her chest. She doesn’t know how to fix it—for them, or the tangled timelines. How can they untangle without Eliwyn? She’s their anchor. Their constant. They deserve her, after all they’ve sacrificed.

She buries her face in her knees, arms over her head. Thoughts circle like birds with no place to land—not questions of who she is, but how they’ll see her now.

Will they see someone new? Or just a ghost of a girl who never truly lived? A mirror for a face they lost?

Please see me as myself and not the one you lost, her silent plea floats in the back of her mind. But she can’t hold onto that hope. Not yet.

Tired of circling the same questions with no answers, she raises her head. Her restless mind won’t let her rest. She slips from bed, careful not to wake Xavier.

A chill snakes up her spine the moment her bare feet touch the cool floor—but it’s not the cold. She pushes away thoughts of timelines, resonance, and Xavier’s quiet words. Not yet.

Soft steps lost in plush carpet, she slips on slippers left for her and pulls open the door.

The estate’s hallways are dim, amber sconces casting sleepy shadows. She can’t tell if it’s late or early. The manor is quiet. Has anyone else slept? Is Rafayel still in the hospital wing? Caleb… She doesn’t finish the thought. Her feet move of their own accord.

The hospital wing hides behind reinforced doors and thick glass. She hesitates, then pushes through, met by the sterile scent of antiseptic.

She’s been in enough hospitals to know this room’s no different. Clinical, chilled, unnervingly still. She should have grabbed a sweater.

The room is empty. She expected Zayne, maybe Rafayel, with Caleb. Rafayel promised to check on him, not to stay. Still, the emptiness feels eerie. She backs toward the door.

Maybe she should find someone. Or wake Xavier.

That’s when she spots the sheet-covered figure behind the glass wall at the back of the room—and all the air leaves her in a sharp gasp. Her body trembles as dread churns in her stomach. She hadn’t thought Caleb was in such bad shape. Surely it can’t be him? Her heart pounds in her ears until the world narrows to the sound of her breath as she moves closer.

Her hand reaches out, feeling strangely detached from herself as she turns the handle. The door hisses open, releasing a rush of air—her first clue that the room was hermetically sealed. Half in fear, half in impatience, she leaves the door open behind her and steps forward. Robotically, Elly reaches for the sheet and pulls it back.

The breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding floods out as the face beneath is revealed—not Caleb’s.

Relief washes over her, weakening her knees. She’s about to draw the sheet back up when her eyes widen in frozen horror. She recognizes the body. It’s the guard who kidnapped her—the one with the reassuring smile and later, strange blankness she never understood.

Though she knows she has nothing to fear from him now, her hands shake uncontrollably as she pulls the sheet back further. She tries to tell herself to leave. Surely they will tell her what happened. But this doesn’t look recent. What if they’re hiding something? They kept so many secrets from Eliwyn.

With Eliwyn gone, will they treat her the same way? She can’t take that chance. She pulls back the sheet all the way, stomach twisting, but she’s been in hospitals before. This is just another patient. Just don’t think of him as dead.

Her eyes catch a darkened patch along the side of his neck. It’s not a burn—or not quite. Blackened veins snake from a small, closed incision. Like fire spreading outward from beneath a small wound. Considering what she endured on the ship, Elly’s mind clicks into place: whatever was removed from him had been there.

Unable to bear it any longer, she pulls the sheet back haphazardly to cover the body and steps back, nearly stumbling. At least she didn’t have to touch him. She recalls the waxy, lifeless skin of her mother when she said goodbye.

Shaking her head, she closes the door and hurries out of the hospital wing altogether.

Back in the hallway, she pauses before the doors lining the corridor. She’d forgotten this was where she had waited between tests—perhaps Caleb was moved here.

Hope sparks, and she begins checking the rooms. Most open easily, but one door is locked. Laying her hand on the biometric reader, she feels a gratifying click as it disengages.

Inside, she hears a gasp and a twitch. She rushes to the bed.

“Caleb?” Her voice is barely above a whisper, and he does not respond. His brows furrow as his eyes flutter beneath closed lids—he’s dreaming. A breath escapes, almost a whine.

Cautiously, Elly presses her hand to his forehead. Slightly warm. A monitor hums softly nearby, charting his vitals with data she can’t decipher. His face is pale, jaw slack, lashes soft against his skin—softer than she expected for the storm he carries behind his eyes.

She imagines the boy Caleb might have been before flight school. Before the explosion, before the fleet.

Elly takes his hand in hers. The chair beside the bed is empty—someone was here earlier. Maybe Zayne. Rafayel. Sylus.

She sits.

For a long moment, she watches him dream. His face twitches with shadows of pain. His chest rises and falls in steady breaths. She tries to imagine what he’d say awake—probably something cutting, invasive. She almost smiles.

Then the memory hits—the violent collapse, his body jerking like something inside had torn free. Her smile fades.

“Why did you follow me here from Skyhaven?” she whispers. “Why did you even care?” But she already knows. He didn’t care. Not about her. He was searching for Eliwyn all along. She was just a means to an end. She knew that, and still, it stings.

No reaction, just the slow rise and fall of his chest, the twitch of his hand in hers.

Her gaze drops to his hand, rough and warm when it held hers in the ship’s infirmary—back when he thought she was Eliwyn. How tightly he’d clasped it, like something precious he was afraid to lose.

“I don’t know what to do with any of this,” she says, voice thinner than she intends. “I don’t know what Xavier meant, or what I’m supposed to be or do. Or why I feel so connected to you when we’ve barely met. But I know... I can’t lose you.”

She brushes his hair back gently and pulls the blanket up just a fraction. A small gesture, almost nothing.

“I need you to wake up, Caleb,” she says softly. “Even if it’s just to argue or ask rude questions.”

She knows she should leave, but can’t. She doesn’t notice Xavier’s arrival until his hand rests lightly on her shoulder. His voice is hoarse with sleep.

“Elly... what are you doing here?”

She lifts her face, eyes dry but heavy with exhaustion. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Don’t disappear like that again. When I woke up alone, I…” His hand tightens on her shoulder, reflexive and searching. He swallows, then exhales slowly. “Please. Just don’t leave without waking me.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think.” Elly’s voice is low, laced with guilt.

He squeezes her shoulder and pulls a chair closer, sitting beside her. “How are you otherwise?”

Elly forces a weak smile, then drops her gaze. “Confused. Scared. Mostly, I’m worried about you. All of you. About what this means. How do I fix this? How can I untangle the timelines without Eliwyn?”

His expression softens. “That was never your responsibility.”

She swallows hard. “Someone has to. This isn’t right. It’s not how it was supposed to happen.”

Xavier doesn’t answer immediately. She can almost see the thoughts working behind his eyes. The silence stretches between them, tension pulsing like breath in the room.

“You’re right. But not how you think.” He finally says. “This isn’t about tangled timelines, Elly. It never was.”

“It is.” Her voice hardens, but the jealousy rising in her chest is ruthlessly pushed down. It serves no purpose anymore. “The game was clear — each of you has your own MC. Your own Eliwyn.”

“This isn’t a game, Elly.” His gaze sharpens, steadying. “Maybe the developers pulled from the collective consciousness or something like that, weaving timelines into a story. But this is only one reality — and here, the timelines aren’t tangled. They were severed.”

“Explain.”

“In our world — this one — the experiment failed. The child they tested didn’t survive.”

“She died at first, yes. But she regenerated the next day. That was Eliwyn.”

Xavier shakes his head.

“No. She tried. But something went wrong. Instead of regenerating, her resonance faded — until even the most sensitive systems couldn’t detect it. She never came back. She never had a chance. This timeline was never meant to have a living MC.”

“No. That can’t be. Eliwyn was MC.” Her chest tightens painfully. Her heart stutters as heat rises inside her. The hand clutching Caleb’s twitches involuntarily.

Xavier rises, then crouches before her, taking her hand gently.

“When the child — our MC — died, another incarnation of that soul, from a different reality, sensed the loss. They came from a place without EVOLs. Without us.” He lifts her hand, brushing his lips softly over her knuckles.

“Their resonance was too strong for the world they were born into — so strong it was killing the body that held the soul. So it did the only thing it could: it split part of itself, crossing dimensions to this reality, filling the space our MC left behind.”

“No… No, that’s not… I can’t… I’m not…” She stumbles over her words, desperate but unable to voice the fear. That she isn’t enough. That they deserve more.

“Elly, you weren’t brought here by accident. You’re not tangled with Eliwyn. You’ve never been a reflection or fragment of her. You’ve always been you. Now you’re whole again.”

Her throat tightens. Words fail her. She can only shake her head.

“I swear it’s true. I can show you the data to prove it.” He raises a hand, brushing away tears she didn’t realize she was shedding.

“You’ve always been my guiding starlight. And now, you’ve crossed entire dimensions to come back to me.” His gaze is steady, confident, unshakable — with a certainty she aches to believe.

“Are you sure?” Her hands grasp his, gripping as if he’s the only solid ground beneath her. Because right now, he is.

“I promise.” His lips curve, dark eyes flicker to hers and then to her lips — silently asking. She hesitates only a moment. Right now, she needs to feel how much he cares for her, not Eliwyn. So she answers without words, closing the gap between them.

“Excuse me.”

A voice breaks their moment before their lips meet.

Elly pulls back, startled. Caleb is sitting up, watching her. His gaze is calm — no pain, no accusation. No recognition.

“Can someone tell me who I am, and what I am doing here?”

Chapter Text

Caleb

As always, the dreams are fragmented and chaotic. A voracious monster, devouring him. It's cold, electronic voice grates against his nerves. Hunting the jagged pieces of himself that have torn loose. Impaling his mind. Slicing fresh wounds, reopening old ones. As the monster stalks his psyche, he hides the important pieces of himself. Locks them away. 

Safe. Safe from the monster. Safe from himself.

He doesn’t know when that begins to change. When the monster sleeps. When the voice begins to creep in on what is left of his consciousness. Soothing instead of threatening. Female. Soft and threaded with guilt or sorrow. A balm on his fractured edges.

It loops in his head before he’s fully awake. Not a memory. A pull. Like gravity, winding through his ribs, anchoring him toward something important.

Familiar.

He tries to open his eyes. Heavy. Slow. Like swimming up through layers of darkness thick as syrup. His limbs ache, his chest feels tight, and there’s a low buzz at the base of his skull. Mechanical. Familiar. Made of teeth. The monster from his nightmare.

His surroundings are unfamiliar. He has no memory of the room or arriving here. He pauses when he realizes he has no memory at all. Then the dream surfaces, and he knows where the memories are, but instinct keeps him from accessing them. It's not safe yet.

Somehow, while this is happening, he is also taking note of everything around him. Every detail. Every word said. Filing it away for later perusal. Instinctively, he knows this is habit. Old, ingrained. Born of fear and determination. Fiercely protective, but of what, he doesn’t know. Can't know. Not yet.

This need– obsession, his mind whispers-  to protect is the core of who he is. Even without memories, he knows this. It is his reason. His life. Normal. Everything he is, soldier, tactician, protector, is built around this truth. Whatever mask he wears, they all serve this singular purpose. They are his weapons and shield, wielded to this one end. 

He can feel these masks crawling beneath his skin. The soldier: efficient, brutal, precise. Tactician: quiet, calculating, always three steps ahead. Protector: Guardian, warden, champion.

And then… the other. The one he feels stirring now. The one that hides the others. Laid-back and teasing. The man who smiles and winks just to see her blush. The one who watches her fall asleep beside him just to memorize the shape of her breathing.

Her.

He doesn’t know her name. Not really. But he knows her. The sound of her voice bypasses the masks entirely. It doesn’t belong to his analytical side. It belongs in the hollow of his ribs. In the quiet space where peace might have once lived.

She calls to him.

Words begin to filter through these thoughts. Muffled at first, then clearer. 

“I feel so connected to you… I can’t lose you.”

And as he listens. Her voice breaks slightly, then steadies. Another voice joins. Male. Familiar. Grounded. Their words float to him.

“Don’t disappear like that again.”

“I’m worried about you. All of you. About what this means.”

“How can I untangle the timelines without Eliwyn?”

Timelines. That name. 

Her voice. Talking about something impossible. Alternate timelines. A failed experiment. Rebirth. Souls crossing dimensions. None of it makes sense to the part of him that’s conscious.

But his analytical side files it away for later contemplation. If it involves her, he inherently knows it’s important.

Then there’s a shift. The cadence. The atmosphere. A lower murmur. A pause. The breath of intimacy. She reaches toward the man beside her.

Caleb’s stomach twists. Emotion flares. Sharp. Fast. Unreasonable.

Jealousy. He doesn’t know why. But he knows he doesn’t want her kissing that man.

Before he can think better of it, instinct moves him. Not toward confrontation. Not yet. He slides into the role that feels… right. Not raw and injured. Not confused. Familiar. The mask that belongs with her. That can disarm. Distract. Blend. 

The friend. The charmer. Lover his mind whispers . The protector with a crooked grin. The boy with the best lies and the worst jokes.

He pulls it on like a coat.

And he speaks.

“Excuse me.”

The word cleaves the air. Casual, almost amused, but sharp enough to make them both freeze. She jerks back slightly from the other man, lips parted in shock. The man turns slowly, elegant features unreadable, eyes narrowing with wary suspicion.

Caleb sits on a medical cot. Relaxed. Calm. At least on the outside. Around him, soft beeping keeps pace with the slow, measured cadence of his heart. He’s focused on her. He keeps his posture relaxed and open, one brow raised. But behind his eyes, he’s analyzing, reading patterns and body language. Determining how to keep them off balance. Keep them apart.

He looks directly at the girl.

“Can someone tell me who I am… and why I’m here?” 

And why the sound of your voice feels like coming home. But he keeps that to himself. For now.

The silence that follows his question is taut, like a drawn wire.

She’s standing now. Frozen. Her hair is mussed from sleep. Her eyes are too wide. Not with fear.

With something heavy. Guilt. Sadness. Hope.

Too many emotions for someone he’s just met.

Except… he hasn’t. Has he?

She’s close. Within reach. Close enough that he can smell something faint and warm. Somehow floral and faintly fruity. His gaze lingers too long.

Don’t get pulled in. He feels a pulse of warning from the ache in his skull. The teeth that gnaw at his mind. But the part playing the charmer leans into the ache. Almost craving it.

He wants to tease her into smiling. Say something reckless just to hear her laugh. He doesn’t know why, but the need throbs beneath his skin like muscle memory.

"Caleb. You're awake," she says softly.

Caleb. Spoken in her voice, the name settles on him. Lands like a key in a long-forgotten lock. Something ancient clicks into place. Familiar. Final. 

A tension she’s not even aware of in her shoulders eases. He sees the way her hands twist in the hem of her shirt. How her eyes flick, not toward him, but to the tall man beside her. The one who almost kissed her. 

Threat, his instinct warns. He analyzes how the man moves. Sleek and assured. Sliding in front of her with practiced ease. Dominant. Emotionally significant.

Caleb’s smile curls, faint and knowing. Seemingly oblivious.

“I take it we know each other,” he says, tone dry, “since you look like I just returned from the grave.”

She flinches.

Too far?

Maybe.

The silence that follows stretches thin. She opens her mouth, then hesitates, her expression flickering through too many emotions too fast.

The man beside her watches Caleb with narrowed eyes. Protective. Curious. Suspicious.

Definitely not neutral. 

Dangerous, he determines. Unpredictable. Possessive.

Elly takes a slow breath. “You… don’t remember anything?”

“Just that your voice echoes in me, like a song I’ve forgotten how to sing,” he says softly, eyes lingering on hers. “Like it once meant everything… or ruined me completely.”

She doesn’t laugh. Her eyes flicker with something he doesn’t have the language for. Something that might be relief. Or hurt. Or both.

He can’t stop looking at her. Every time she speaks, a part of him hums with recognition. Not memory, not exactly. But resonance. Like she’s a note he forgot he was tuned to.

It’s disorienting.

It’s infuriating.

It’s tempting.

He shifts on the bed. He ignores the chill that envelops his body, the ache of his muscles. The effort to remain sitting upright costs more than he lets on. His vision dims at the edges. Somewhere under his skin, things still aren’t right. Pain flares at the base of his neck and pulses behind his eyes. Metal teeth that devour, but he can’t afford to falter now.

Not until he knows why this girl’s gaze makes him feel like he’s already failed her.

“You were unconscious for hours,” she says finally. “They didn’t know if you’d—”

Her voice catches. The sound shouldn’t gut him, but it does. Like the echo of a wound he doesn't remember getting.

He files that away, too.

Then her hand twitches. A reflexive movement, almost reaching for him, but doesn’t.

Caleb's throat tightens. His body reacts before his mind does. A quiet pull toward her. A need. Connection. Real or not, he doesn’t care.

She matters. The thought comes from the emotional side, not the tactical. And that’s the problem. Because if she matters, he’s vulnerable. And if he’s vulnerable, then someone could have done this to him on purpose. He masks the flicker of unease behind another practiced smile.

“Well, since you seem to know me, maybe you can answer my second question.”

She blinks.

“Second?”

“Yeah.” He tilts his head. “You still haven’t told me why I’m here.”

Elly exhales slowly, her fingers curling against her side as if trying to ground herself. Then she says, “You were trying to find someone.”

His stomach drops. Smile falters for half a second before he catches it.

“Was I? Did I find them?”

She hesitates. Her eyes drop momentarily, then lift again, guilt and sorrow twisted behind them.

“No. Not exactly.”

“Starlight, Zayne’s on his way to talk to Caleb. You didn’t eat last night, and if you don’t eat soon, Zayne’s going to give you another one of those meal replacements you love so much.”

She flinches imperceptibly at the nickname. He sees the flash of uncertainty, insecurity . She doesn’t move.

Caleb watches carefully, the rhythm of the conversation shifting around him like a tide trying to drag her away. He can feel it. The subtle push, the intent to isolate. Distract. Hide something. And all of it centers on her.

The man moves to direct her out of the room, even as she hesitates, eyes still on Caleb. A chill runs through him.

“No,” Caleb says, voice sharper than intended. Both Xavier and Elly glance at him. He stands slowly, one hand bracing against the bed as he meets her gaze. “Don’t go.”

Elly blinks. “I’m just—”

“I don’t know why, but I don’t want you to disappear again.” His voice dips low, softer now, as if the honesty catches him off guard. “I feel like I’ll forget you. I can’t let that happen.”

Elly freezes. Even Xavier falls still.

The silence that follows isn’t empty. It thrums with something raw, unspoken, and heavy. Caleb doesn't understand where the words came from, only that they are true. Deep in his fractured, hidden memory, in the space between past and present, her presence is a lifeline. And, some instinct buried in him knows: if he lets go, he won’t find her again.

But before he can decide what to do with that, his gaze shifts. Freezes. She's thinner than she should be. He hadn’t noticed it at first, with the shadows under her eyes and the tension in her shoulders stealing his attention. But now… he sees it.

The hollowness beneath her cheekbones. The way her shirt hangs off her frame. The subtle tremble in her fingers as she tightens them on her shirt. Not exhaustion alone. She hasn’t been eating enough. The sallow cast of her skin, telling him there’s more wrong than exhaustion and hunger. The realization knocks something loose in him. 

Not memory. Something worse. Fear. Helpless and sharp.

Elly’s breath catches, her hand hovering mid-motion like she isn’t sure whether to reach for him or retreat. Her mouth opens as if to speak, but nothing comes.

Across from them, Xavier’s posture stiffens. Calculating. His dark eyes flick from Caleb to Elly and back again, jaw ticking once like he’s biting down a sharper reaction. He schools his tone into something neutral. “She’s not disappearing. She’s just going to the kitchen.”

But Caleb can feel it. Hear it in the precision of Xavier’s words—the careful way he’s threading logic around emotion like a net. Trying to pull her away. Controlling the flow of information. Limiting Caleb’s access to Elly.

Yet, how can he stop her, seeing the shape that she’s in? He changes tactics.

He takes a step forward before thinking it through. “When’s the last time you had an actual meal?”

Elly blinks, caught off guard by the change in subject. “I—what?”

“You do look like you’re about to pass out.”

The words come too fast. Too certain. But he doesn’t regret them. He steps closer. Close enough to lower his voice. The man beside her twitches and becomes even more alert, if possible, but doesn’t stop him.

“Come on. I don’t know what the hell is going on, or who I am yet, or why you look like your heart is breaking every time you breathe. But I do know you need something better than a meal replacement.”

He gently takes her hand.

“Let me walk you to the kitchen.”

She hesitates. Not because she doesn’t want to, he thinks. There’s something else. Something about him. He should know, but he doesn’t remember. He wants to reach for those memories. Too soon , some instinct warns.

“Elly,” he says, softer now. Her name feels familiar. Natural. Like it belongs on his tongue. He pulls her hand to his lips and brushes them lightly across her knuckles. Her breath hitches, and a dark satisfaction fills him at her response.

“Just… let me do this. Then we both get what we need.”

She glances at Xavier, hesitation flickering behind her eyes. Caleb shouldn’t feel safe, not really. But something in her posture softens. Not surrender. Trust, maybe. Or the desperate need for it. Quietly, she nods.

He doesn’t smile, not quite, but something eases in his shoulders as he follows her. He’s still full of static and missing pieces. The monster is still waiting, ready to devour him. But walking beside her feels right. Even if he doesn’t remember why.

Tomato. Garlic. Herbs. Something briny from the ocean. He smells the kitchen before they enter the door. The scent is warm, rich, and familiar in a way that twists in his gut. A sensory memory. The overhead light flickers on as they step inside. Elly doesn’t resist when he steers her toward the table.

She moves like every breath costs her. And he hates that he hadn’t noticed sooner. When she starts to pull away, he threads his fingers through hers instead. Gentle but firm.

Caleb catches the sharp breath she tries to hide. The corners of his mouth twitch. Her hand is cool in his, slender and steady. When his thumb traces her palm, it’s like relearning something he should already know.

Gods, she’s so responsive.

She tenses, then relaxes. It happens in slow pulses, like a tide caught between moon phases. He doesn’t press her. Just keeps their hands linked and wonders if somewhere deep down, her body remembers him too.

Not like a lover. Not even like a friend. Just… someone she used to trust. He feels it in how she relaxes into him as he keeps his grip light, but doesn’t let go. Just plays with her fingers as if he has every right to.

“You didn’t eat. Was that about me… or something else?”

Elly shoots him a look that might’ve been withering, if her cheeks weren’t already turning pink. “No.”

Caleb hears the obvious lie in her voice. The way Xavier twitches by the stove as he reheats the seafood soup tells Caleb he does, too. He doesn’t say anything, however, just responds to an alert on his phone and goes back to stirring the soup.

“We just got some unexpected news last night,” Elly explains. But Caleb can tell she’s missed more than just one meal. Especially if this Zayne is telling her she needs a nutritional supplement. There’s more going on. Alarm bells are going off in his head, but none of this shows on his face or demeanor.

He grins instead, still playing with her fingers. Her hand is small in his, cool and delicate, and when he strokes the pad of his thumb over her knuckles, her breath catches. He files that away with silent satisfaction.

A scorched scent prickles the air. Caleb’s nose wrinkles. Without thinking, he’s on his feet. Xavier doesn’t react fast enough. Seemingly confused at the scent.

Caleb crosses to the stove, twists the heat down, and lifts the pot with a practiced motion. Once he is sure it won’t begin to burn again, he sits back down. Her hand rests, uncertain, on the table. Half-withdrawn, like she doesn’t know what to do with it now.

So he picks it up again, slow and unassuming. Gently. Like it’s a promise he intends to keep. Before he can talk himself out of needing to. This time, she doesn’t pull away.

Then the door swings open with a metallic snap. Two men enter. One moves with clinical precision, dark-haired and steady-eyed, stethoscope around his neck like a badge of quiet authority. Combat-trained, Caleb notes. Hands kept loose, but ready. 

The other doesn’t walk in. He arrives. White hair, unreadable eyes, shoulders squared like he belongs on a throne. Every line of his body says: threat. Every step says: not yours.

Caleb doesn’t move. Still holding Elly’s hand, and watching.

Zayne’s eyes flick from their joined hands to Elly’s face. Caleb feels the slight tightening of the air. The way everyone’s breathing quiets. Not an outburst. Not yet.

Just quiet recalculations. 

“Caleb.” The dark-haired man says.

Caleb tilts his head lazily, still not letting go of Elly’s hand. “That’s me, apparently.”

“You shouldn’t be up,” Zayne murmurs, already crossing to him. No hesitation. His fingers find Caleb’s wrist, clinical and calm.  “You collapsed. Unconscious for four hours.”

“Huh.” Caleb lifts a brow. “Explains the bedhead.”

Zayne doesn’t smile. “Do you remember what happened?”

Elly’s fingers twitch, but Caleb gently keeps her anchored. “I don’t remember anything before waking up in the room.”

Sylus steps forward, more measured. “Nothing at all?”

“Nope.” Caleb shrugs, but notes a flicker of something darker behind the other man’s eyes. “Woke up to her voice.” He nods toward Elly. “The rest is a blank slate.” For now.

Zayne glances at Sylus. “We should run another scan—”

“I’m standing here, not drooling on myself. Isn’t that progress?”

Zayne ignores the sarcasm. “Memory loss like this can indicate neurological trauma. Or…” He pauses, gaze sharpening, “interference.”

Caleb’s eyes narrow. “Interference.”

Sylus picks up smoothly. “There was a chip embedded near your spinal column. Not exactly Fleet standard, as far as we can tell.”

Caleb doesn’t answer right away.

Something behind his ribs stirs. Not memory, but instinct.

Thoughts shift. While part of him analyzes, makes correlations, and puts together the puzzle pieces. The mechanical voice. The devouring teeth. The ache in his neck. His fractured psyche and missing memories. The other remains focused… on her.

He blinks, “So, I’m either a walking experiment or a very expensive pawn.”

Zayne continues his exam. “You really don’t remember anything? Not even the Fleet?”

“Not yet,” Caleb replies smoothly, watching their reactions. “But I’d love a dramatic flashback if either of you is taking requests.”

He can feel Elly tense beside him again, and he gently brushes his thumb over her wrist. Reassuring. Possessive. Anchoring and anchored. He doesn’t know where that need comes from, only that the idea of her slipping away makes his heart clench.

Xavier finally turns from the stove, lifting a spoonful of stew toward his mouth with a satisfied nod. “It’s ready.”

“You should eat,” Zayne tells Elly, his tone gentling. Eyes soft. “You missed dinner.”

Sylus crosses to the fridge and pulls out one of the meal replacement drinks. “And no, a single slice of toast doesn’t count.”

Caleb eyes it with distaste. “Do you actually expect her to choke down one of those?”

“While she’s healing, she needs more nutrients than she’s currently ingesting,” Zayne says, then glances at Caleb again. “What do you remember feeling when you woke up? Any impressions?”

Caleb leans back in his chair and lets his gaze slide back to Elly. “Just her voice.”

He doesn’t say what her voice did to him. The way it wrapped around his bones and made something inside him lurch like gravity had reversed. He doesn’t say how her voice dragged him back from the dark. He doesn’t need to.

She's right there.

Not a memory. Not a theory.

Real. Breathing.

And for now, that’s the only truth that matters.

***

Elly

She’s not sure when it started. The ache behind her eyes or the pressure building beneath her skin. Caleb’s warmth beside her doesn’t help. It’s grounding, disorienting. Too much and not enough. Familiar in ways it shouldn't be. Wrong, because she’s the one in the space Eliwyn used to fill. Her stomach is in knots, yet she can’t let go.

Despite the swirl in her chest, she forces down the meal replacement shake Sylus handed her. It tastes like metal and ash. Like guilt.

Caleb leans back in his chair, relaxed on the outside but still holding her hand. His thumb idly tracing along her knuckles like he’s trying to memorize them. He hasn’t let go since the hospital wing. Other than to save the stew. And although she knows she should, Elly doesn’t pull away. Not yet.

Xavier’s at the stove, filling two bowls with the leftover stew they helped Rafayel make last night. Although Caleb probably doesn’t remember that now. Zayne and Sylus have begun to discuss something about equipment placement, their voices sharp-edged with fatigue, while Zayne double-checks Caleb’s vitals.

“The Ballroom is still a better option than gutting half the hospital wing,” Sylus says as he lowers a sealed container onto the counter. “It’s structurally reinforced. We won’t have to reroute the power grid.”

“We’ll still need to find a way to dampen any outside interference,” Zayne replies, rubbing at his temple momentarily. “Otherwise, we won’t be able to get accurate results on anything. The garage, being underground, doesn’t have that issue.”

“We’ll just upgrade the soundproofing in the ballroom to include the new dampening requirements. I can have it done in less than a day.” Sylus reassures Zayne, then picks up his phone and sends a message.

Caleb glances between them with a small, amused smile. “Either I missed the part where this place became a secret lair, or I used to be in on the joke.”

“That’s funny, it used to be a secret from you, too,” Xavier mutters just loudly enough for everyone to hear. He looks at Caleb guardedly as he carries two bowls from the stove, handing one to Elly.

Zayne’s eyes flick to him, but he ignores the comment. Looking instead to Caleb, eyes sharp with concern. “You should go back to bed.”

“I feel fine,” Caleb replies glibly. By the subtle tremor in his hand that holds hers, Elly is pretty sure that’s a lie, but doesn’t call him on it. Not yet. Goodness knows, she’s not in much better shape. Exhausted and trying to wrap her head around what Xavier told her. How does it change things for her? She was supposed to untangle timelines. Find a way to bring Eliwyn back. But now... none of it makes sense anymore. And she doesn’t have the energy to face what that means just yet.

Sylus looks pointedly at where Caleb’s hand holds hers. “You remember anything yet?”

“Nothing concrete, just impressions. Feelings.” 

“How much have you told him?” Zayne asks Elly.

She shakes her head slightly. “Not much. I explained that he was trying to find someone and didn’t succeed. I didn’t know how to explain…” She stumbles to a halt.

Caleb’s smile doesn’t slip, but Elly can feel the sudden quiet in him. Like a breath held too long.

“So…” His voice shifts. Still smooth, but with something more grounded underneath. “Is someone gonna tell me why you’re all here? Together? Because no offense, but this doesn’t feel like a coincidence.”

No one answers right away. They glance toward Elly, but not like they expect her to answer. More like they are checking in to make sure she’s okay. It makes her feel warm and cared for, and she’s not sure what to do with that feeling right now.

“You act like you know me,” Caleb says. “But not just know me. Like there’s history. History that I don’t remember.” He glances around the room, and his gaze lingers on Elly last, but she glances away.. “I don’t remember any of you. But I can feel it. The weight in the air. The way you all look at each other when you think I’m not paying attention.”

Stomach churning, Elly sets her spoon down.

Caleb shifts a little closer, voice lower now. “You said I was looking for someone, but that I found you. What did you mean by that?”

Her pulse stutters. “I’m not sure how to explain, but I suppose you could say that everything that’s happened is my fault.” The others open their mouths as though to protest, but Elly holds up her hand to forestall them.

“If I understand correctly, it is.” She insists, knowing they can’t argue.

Caleb’s eyes narrow, but he remains silent. Allowing her to proceed.

Her throat feels too tight. “You were looking for someone named Eliwyn. You grew up together and were very close.”

He doesn’t move for a beat. Then: “You are not Eliwyn?”

“No, but we look the same,” Elly says quietly. “I’m Elinore. It’s a little hard to explain, but I wasn’t born in this world. Technically, neither was Eliwyn, I guess.” Elly explains as much as she can about Caleb and Eliwyn’s childhood. She asks Zayne to show Caleb pictures of Eliwyn. Zayne even has a picture of the three of them on his cloud from when they were all kids. At an inquiring look from Caleb, he explains how he knew Caleb, Eliwyn, and their Grandma when they were all younger before he moved away. The whole time Zayne and Elly are speaking, Caleb’s thumb continues its light exploration of her hand, almost as though he forgot to stop.

Caleb’s brows draw together. “Then where is she?”

Struggling, Elly looks around, at a loss for how to explain. 

“Eliwyn was a piece of Elly’s soul that traveled to our world when Elly was young,” Xavier answers.

Something in Caleb flickers. A ripple under his carefully constructed calm. “You’re saying Eliwyn, she doesn’t exist?”

“In a way, Eliwyn never existed. It was always Elly.” Xavier confirms.

The silence that follows stretches too long. His hand is still in hers. Warm, trusting. Elly’s throat burns. The guilt is sharp and sudden. Her grip tightens. Braces for anger. And rejection.

“I’m sorry,” she says.

And for the first time, Caleb pulls his hand from hers. Not sharply. Not cruelly. Just… carefully. Like he’s afraid that holding on will hurt more than letting go.

Without the warmth of his hand in hers, Elly feels cold. Tears threaten to spring up, but she blinks them away before anyone notices. She knew this was going to happen sooner or later. Somehow, that doesn’t make it any easier.

He rises and fills a bowl with the seafood stew, then stands at the counter for a moment before returning to his seat. Elly sees the stillness in his shoulders. The breath that doesn’t quite fill his lungs. The flicker in his eyes.

Worried he might collapse again, her eyes follow him. It’s like she can feel how close he is to breaking. But even now, despite fracturing, he’s focused on her.

“I don’t know who I am,” Caleb says, eyes fixed on the bowl of soup as though it holds the answers. “But I need to know something.”

Everyone looks at him.

“Why are you the one I’m afraid will disappear?” His voice isn’t flirty now. It’s raw. 

The room goes still.

Caleb doesn’t look at her, but Elly feels the full weight of his words anyway. She’s not the only one. Zayne’s jaw tightens. Sylus shifts slightly like he’s preparing for a fight that hasn’t yet begun. Xavier lowers his spoon with deliberate care.

Elly doesn’t move. She can’t.

“You say her name, and it sounds familiar,” Caleb continues. “Like the ache of a healed wound on rainy days. But I don’t have the same visceral reaction as I do to the thought of you disappearing.”

Finally, he raises his eyes to meet hers. The anguish and fear in them knock the breath from her lungs.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she says softly.

Even knowing that’s not something she can promise. 

Not yet. Maybe not ever.

Caleb doesn’t answer. His shoulders are too still. He brings the spoon to his lips like he’s testing something more than flavor, and the silence that follows is deafening.

Xavier, who’s been watching her intently, finally speaks.

“Elly—”

“I’m fine,” she interrupts, barely louder than a breath. “Really.”

“You’re not,” Zayne says. “You haven’t been eating enough. You’re not sleeping. You barely made it down the hall yesterday. Rafayel had to—”

Elly shoots him a sharp look, but Zayne doesn’t back down. If anything, his concern flares brighter.

Caleb turns, his eyes locking on hers. “Why not?”

“What?” she asks, blinking.

“Why aren’t you eating? Or sleeping? Is it because of me?”

“No,” she says immediately. Not wanting him to blame himself. It isn’t his fault.

His expression doesn’t shift, but she can feel it again. An awareness behind his gaze. Like he’s noticing everything about her. Her tone, her tells, her breath pattern.

The military strategist, sizing up an opponent, she thinks. Elly focuses on her stew, unable to meet his eyes.

“You’re dying.”

The words fall like glass shattering in the room. Zayne flinches. Sylus looks away. Xavier says nothing.

Elly’s breath catches. Her voice, when it comes, is barely audible. “I’m still here.” Unable to remain still, she rises and takes her bowl to the sink.

“I don’t know what’s happening,” Caleb says, and now his voice does crack, just a little. “But I know that look. That’s the kind of weight people carry when they’ve already given up.”

“No,” she turns back, trying to deny it. But her knees are shaking, and her stomach is hollow. Cold seeps into her until she trembles faintly.

“I haven’t given up,” she finally whispers, but it feels like a lie the second it leaves her lips. She can’t look at him. At any of them.

“You have.” His voice is quiet. No judgment. Just certainty. “I can see it in your eyes.”

“Elly…” Zayne steps forward, but she flinches before he can reach her.

“You don’t understand,” she says, voice cracking. “I didn’t—”

“Then explain it,” Caleb says, sharper now. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re wasting away in front of people who would do anything to save you. I don’t even remember you, but even I would do anything to keep you alive.”

Her gaze snaps to his, wild and confused. “It’s not like that. I just haven’t had a chance to reevaluate since finding out what happened to Eliwyn.”

“Re-evaluate? So you had given up.” The hurt and betrayal on Xavier’s face cut through Elly like a knife.

The room freezes.

No one speaks.

Elly swallows hard. Her next words are softer, more fragile than anything she’s ever said aloud.

“Before Xavier told me the truth… I thought dying might be the only way to fix things. To bring her back to you. And if it meant losing me… I thought it would be worth it. I am already dying.”

Zayne looks like she’s hit him. His hand lowers from where it hovered near her arm.

“You were going to die for us… and not even tell us?” His voice is hoarse. 

Their pain breaks over her, and she’s silent for a moment.

“I thought it would be better that way,” she whispers the admission.

Sylus steps back like the air’s been knocked out of him. He runs a hand through his hair, jaw clenched so tight it’s a miracle his teeth don’t crack. “Godsdamn it, Elly…”

Xavier doesn’t move. Not right away. But his eyes are darker than before, his whole frame taut with restraint. “You thought we wanted her more than you?”

“She was everything you lost,” Elly breathes, as if the truth can excuse it. “And I was just a placeholder that was brought here by mistake.”

Caleb’s voice cuts through the heavy silence. “That’s not what I see.”

She blinks, startled.

“I don’t know about before,” he says, eyes locked to hers. “But right now? I see someone standing on the edge of something sharp, pretending she’s already fallen.”

He shifts closer.

“I see it in you still. The struggle. Even knowing what you know now.”

Elly sways. Not from his words, but from the truth in them.

“I don’t know how to be enough,” she chokes out. “Not for all of you. Not when she—”

Xavier doesn’t speak right away. Then, quietly, “She’s gone. And she has never been you.”

Zayne’s voice is softer now, but strained. “You never had to be her.”

“You are already enough,” Sylus finishes, arms crossed tight over his chest, like holding himself together is the only way to keep from breaking.

Elly doesn’t speak. Her throat burns, eyes stinging from holding too much for too long. Caleb moves beside her, gently lifting her hand again–the one he’d let fall minutes earlier.

“You’re still here,” he says. “And I’m starting to think… maybe that’s how it was always supposed to be.”

The words sink in. Warming her like a fire on a cold night. Gentle, aching, too much. Her body thrums with the instinct to flee. Her heart yearns to stay. Her legs don’t move, and her trembling fingers are laced in Caleb’s.

“Elly,” Zayne says again, gentler now, almost pleading. “You should have told us. Any of us. You didn’t have to carry this alone.”

“I didn’t want to burden you,” she says, still shaking. “You’ve already been through so much.”

“Don’t you dare,” Sylus interrupts, voice like flint. “You are not a burden, Elly. You are the reason we’re still fighting. The reason we have something to fight for.”

His words land like a blow. Not because they’re cruel, but because they’re true.

Rafayel’s not here, but she can almost imagine what he’d say. Something theatrical. Cutting. But hurt under all the swagger. Furious at her and the world, in equal measure.

Zayne crosses the space to her, pressing a palm lightly to her upper arm. “You’ve always been enough, Elly. Not because of who you might be. Because of who you already are.”

Xavier adds, “We grieved Eliwyn. But what we loved was only the piece of you that we could reach. Now that you are here? What we feel is exponentially greater.” He glances at Zayne and Sylus, then back to her. “You didn’t ask to be here. And still, you keep choosing us. That’s… more than we ever could’ve asked for.”

Elly shakes her head, overwhelmed. “What if I wasn’t meant to survive here?” Her eyes finally meet Xavier’s. “You said yourself that this was a doomed timeline.”

“You are surviving,” Caleb interrupts. It’s almost enough to make her laugh. He doesn’t even know her. Doesn’t know himself. And still, somehow, he’s siding with them.

“No one gets to decide what you’re worth but you,” Caleb continues. “But if I had to make a guess? You’re worth working for.”

It’s the way he says it, teasing and earnest all at once, that makes something in her chest break open.

Tears spill freely this time, hot and relentless.

Zayne doesn’t hesitate. He wraps his arms around her carefully, like he’s afraid he’ll hurt her. Not physically, but emotionally, as if she might flinch away from his affection. She doesn’t.

Sylus moves next, sliding in on her other side and resting his chin lightly atop her head, one hand against her back.

Xavier presses a hand to her shoulder. Solid. Steady. Grounding her even as her heart splinters and reforms.

Caleb doesn’t join the group hug, but he doesn’t let go of her hand either. His thumb traces slow circles over her knuckles, quiet and protective. Elly’s surrounded by love and warmth. For the first time, she allows herself to be held up. Not because of something she is going to do, or sacrifice, but simply for being herself. And when she meets Caleb’s eyes, he nods once.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he says.

And this time, for the first time in days, she starts to believe it.

Chapter Text

Sylus

The manor is quiet, save for the soft hum of distant machinery and the echo of his footsteps. Sylus stalks the halls without aim at first. A path carved more by emotion than logic. His mind churns, and the hollow ache in his stomach threatens to swallow him whole.

She was willing to die.

Not for herself. Or even to escape the pain of her failing heart. Because she thought they would be better off with someone else. 

With Eliwyn. 

It’s bad enough he’s still trying to process the fact that Eliwyn used his Evol to convert her body into energy to save Elly. That alone hasn’t had time to settle, but now this.

If Elly had any idea of the sheer terror that gripped him during both kidnapping attempts, she would know that he could never be happier with anyone else. From the moment Rafayel carried her back through that portal, broken and bleeding, she became his whole world.

Damn it, she promised to fight.

His calm façade fractures under the riot of emotions her normally keeps in check. An overwhelming urge to lash out, to hit something, takes hold. He pivots sharply, a direction and destination crystallizing.

The one place he can let it out.

He’s grateful Elly is with Zayne in the med wing. Caleb hasn’t left her side. Xavier, unable to put more than a few feet between them without the ghosts in his eyes rising up to drown him. Sylus has similar ghosts.

But if he’d stayed, he would have shattered in front of her.

Better to let Zayne keep her occupied. Elly needs rest anyway. It’s barely past midnight, and she’s had only a few hours’ sleep since Xavier’s revelation and Caleb’s collapse.

And Caleb. Caleb is a problem.

The man may feel a connection to Elly, but that doesn’t mean Sylus is ready to trust him. Not with a Toring chip still embedded in his neck. Not with his motives unclear, or while Elly’s safety hangs by a thread.

That chip is another knot in the endless tangle of issues Sylus is juggling. Despite his advanced equipment and not-inconsiderable hacking skills, Sylus has only managed to decrypt its surface functions. The person who encrypted it is more than skilled. They’re deliberate. Dangerous.

He’s not leaving Elly alone with Caleb until they neutralize the damn thing.

Not for the first time, Sylus laments the fact that he can’t read Caleb’s thoughts without alerting him. Never in his life has he met someone with such finely tuned mental defenses. It’s unsettling. And telling. If it comes to it, he’ll break that barrier. But he’d rather keep that ability secret in case he needs the element of surprise.

The comforting scent of rubber, metal, and gym chalk hits him before he rounds the corner. Good, the gym is empty. He doesn’t stop to change or put on his gloves. Just stalks to the control panel, sets the boxing bot to it’s highest difficulty, and attacks.

The first strike lands with a satisfying crunch of impact. Then another. And another.

What the hell were you thinking?

Why didn’t you tell me?

How do I make you understand?

Each blow punctuates the storm inside him. Fury. Panic. Guilt.

He should have seen it sooner. Should have said something. Pushed harder. Asked better questions. Not just about her health, but about her heart.

Her soul. 

Their soul.

His punches blur together until the bot’s alloy plating warms faintly from the heat of his strikes. His knuckles split open, and bones crack. Still, he doesn’t stop.

A memory rises without warning. Elly’s voice as she unconsciously sang under her breath. The sound of it. Not perfect and wracked with pain, but beautiful. Emotional and real. Just her voice. And yet it had cracked open something in him he hadn’t known was still locked.

A voice that belonged here. With him.

It always will.

Sylus slows. Then stops. He leans his forehead against the bot’s shoulder. Breathing ragged, shoulders heaving. His pulse thuds in his ears. 

Blood slicks the skin of his fists, but he doesn’t heal them. He deserves the pain. His anger turns inward as he realizes it’s not her he’s mad at. He’s furious with himself. He came so close to losing her. And all the signs were there.

“She’s not a placeholder,” he breathes, voice hoarse. “She’s not less.”

She’s everything.

And if it takes the rest of his life to make her believe that, so be it.

He presses his hands against the bot, not to strike, but to hold himself up.

Somewhere deeper still, an old memory shifts. Not of Elly, but Eliwyn. Standing outside the glass window of the cafe, her hand pressed to the glass, her expression unreadable. She had always stood a little apart. Like part of her knew she didn’t fully belong.

Maybe that’s why it was so easy for her to burn herself away.

But Elly… Elly does belong.

She just hasn’t realized it yet.

And now she thinks we’d trade her.

The thought lodges behind his ribs like a blade. No matter how logical he tries to be, when it comes to her, it’s never just logic.

“Boss?” Kieren’s voice crackles through the com still affixed to his ear. “You said to tell you when Rafayel arrives.”

Sylus draws a breath. Focus settles over him like cooling steel.

“Thank you. Direct him to the west garage.”

He turns off the bot.

Time to get back to work.

***

The outer garage door hisses open with a faint hydraulic exhale. Sylus doesn’t need to turn. The absence of footsteps is enough. That and the distinct beat of Mephisto’s wings.

The scent of night air follows Rafayel in.

“Tell me you didn’t flirt with a bartender while wearing that uniform,” Sylus mutters, barely glancing up from the tablet in his hand.

Rafayel steps forward, doffing his stolen Fleet officer’s coat with a practiced flick of his wrist. The red trim catches the overhead light, insignia glinting beneath the fluorescents.

“Puh-lease. I only flirted with bartenders while wearing this uniform.”

“You’re lucky I’m not your commanding officer,” Sylus says dryly.

“You’re lucky I’d never let you be.” Rafayel’s voice carries its usual music, but there’s an edge beneath the teasing melody. Too sharp. Too strained.

Sylus doesn’t rise to the bait. Instead, he turns to the contractor who’d waylaid him en route to the garage, reviewing the updated ballroom schematics on a shared tablet.

“Zayne already signed off? Good. Let’s increase the shielding by another thirty percent. I want full containment, no bleed.” At the man’s nod, Sylus adjusts the blueprint, signs it, and hands the tablet back.

Only then does he give Rafayel his full attention.

“Anything?”

Rafayel tosses a data cube onto the workbench. “Plenty of drinking. Not much talking. A whole lot of Fleet personnel pretending not to see what’s right in front of them. Junior officers acting like they’ve never heard of senior ones. A few mutters about mandated physicals and protocol changes, but always secondhand. Careful language.”

Sylus picks the cube up, sliding it into his pocket. “And this?”

“Everything I pulled from Caleb’s house that Mephisto didn’t already send directly. Most of it’s mundane—grocery lists, workout logs—but one drive was locked down tighter than Abyssal Chaos. I cloned it. There are also audio overlays for voiceprint ID, partial security logs, and one encrypted packet dropped by a sergeant—sloppy work, but useful. And digital IDs for every Fleet officer I encountered. If we need to burn an identity later, it helps to have templates.”

He brushes back a strand of dusky purple hair, then adds, “But the real prize wasn’t what they said.”

Sylus pauses, meeting his gaze. “Go on.”

“They’re afraid,” Rafayel says simply. “Not of some outside threat. Of the orders coming from above. Orders they follow even when they make their skin crawl. They don’t trust each other. Not even their own squadmates.”

Sylus exhales slowly. He’s not surprised. Just tired.

Rafayel leans against the wall, arms crossed. “I narrowed down which Fleet division I can slip into if needed. The bartender at Black Holes and Bitters already half-believes I’m a transfer from another division overseas.”

“Good,” Sylus says. “We may need you embedded sooner than expected.” Sylus’s tone shifts. “Caleb woke up.”

“Sleeping Beauty finally opened his eyes, huh?” Rafayel lifts an eyebrow. “Because I was just about to mention all the chatter about a missing colonel. Recent elevation in rank. No record of reassignment. I don’t think we have long before they come looking.”

“That’s going to be… problematic. He has no memory and won’t leave Elly’s side.”

“You’re not serious.” Sylus can practically see Rafayel’s hackles rise. “We’re not tolerating that, right?”

“We are, for now. Because there’s more.” Sylus keeps his tone neutral, but there’s something brittle under it. “Even without his memories, or maybe because he has none, he picked up on something from Elly none of us saw.”

Something in Rafayel’s posture stills. His smile fades.

“She’s alright?” he asks tightly.

“For now.”

Sylus meets his eyes and lets the next words land unsoftened, knowing the Lemurian would prefer it.

“But when he pushed, she admitted it. She had decided to die.”

Everything goes still.

“She thought… if she could find a way to bring Eliwyn back, if it meant trading her life, it would be worth it.”

Rafayel doesn’t speak. Doesn’t blink.

“She thought we’d be happier,” Sylus says. “If Eliwyn returned and she disappeared.”

The silence that follows is heavy. Pressurized. It hums beneath the floor, inside the bones.

Rafayel breathes in. Just once. Then again. Slower.

“She what?” The words are low. Fragile.

“She didn’t tell anyone. Not until tonight.”

“Did she mean it?” His voice catches, rough around the edges like something fractured under strain.

Sylus nods once.

Rafayel’s hands curl into fists. The whites of his knuckles are stark against the dim metal walls.

“I didn’t want you blindsided.” Sylus’s voice drops, gentler now. “I understand the strength of a Lemurian bond. How deep it runs.”

“She didn’t think we’d miss her,” Rafayel whispers.

“She wanted to spare us grief. Thought we’d all be better off. Happier.”

Rafayel swallows like it hurts. “She thought she wasn’t even worth staying for.”

His voice frays at the edges, soft and ragged. “I see everything when it comes to her. Every shift in her breathing. Every thread in her smile. How the hell did I miss this?”

“She buried it deep,” Sylus says quietly. “Didn’t want us to carry it. We all thought she was still adjusting to our world.”

“I would die for her,” Rafayel says, shoulders trembling.

“I know.”

“I’d kill for her.”

“I know.”

“How could she ever think we’d be happier with someone else in her place?”

“She’s wrong.” Sylus steps closer. “And you and I? We’re the only ones who’ve seen what happens when we don’t fight hard enough to stop it.”

That gets Rafayel to lift his gaze.

Sylus meets his gaze with something raw and unshielded.

“I’ve lost her before,” Sylus says softly. “On other worlds and different timelines. I remember every time her light went out, and I couldn’t stop it. And I remember what it did to me.” His voice grows hoarse.

Rafayel exhales shakily, jaw clenched so tight it trembles.

“I remember too,” he admits. “Not in flashes. In feeling. Like something echoes through my bones when she cries. Like I’ve already buried her, and this is my only chance to stop it from happening again.” The agony, the wet shimmer, in Rafayel’s nebula eyes mirrors Sylus’s own. 

A pause. Then softer—

“I don’t care how many reincarnations of her there are. Elly, this Elly , is mine.”

“She’s ours ,” Sylus says. “That’s the difference this time. She doesn’t have to carry it alone. And neither do we.”

He grips Rafayel’s shoulder, steady and grounding.

“We still have time. We still have her. And we have each other.”

Rafayel nods slowly. “Then we remind her. Every minute. Every breath. I don’t care what it costs.”

“We’ll make sure she knows,” Sylus agrees. “But it’s going to take more than a night to undo what she’s believed since she arrived.”

Rafayel’s expression shifts, like something dark clicks into place.

“Longer than that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Caleb was questioning Elly last night before you all arrived with your news,” Rafayel says. “He asked why she’d never kissed anyone. Why no one ever got close. He didn’t mean to be cruel, but he was too invasive, and I didn’t stop it in time.”

Sylus says nothing, but he hears the guilt behind every word.

“And Elly...” Rafayel swallows. “She said she used to think something was wrong with her. That maybe she was broken because she couldn’t feel that way about anyone outside of a game.”

His jaw tightens. “She’s carried that her whole life.”

“Then we help her understand she’s not broken,” Sylus says. “She never was.”

“I’ll make her believe,” Rafayel whispers. “Even if I have to sing it into every nerve of her body until she hears it in her sleep.”

Sylus smiles faintly. “I thought you’d say that.”

The light’s back in Rafayel’s eyes now, focused and burning.

“What do you need me to do?”

Sylus nods toward the datacube. “We start by finding out everything the Fleet and Ever doesn’t want us to know.”

Rafayel gives a sharp nod and peels his uniform gloves off one finger at a time.

“And after that,” he pauses.

Sylus arches a brow. “After that?”

“I make sure Elly never thinks she’s alone again.”

***

Sylus has other work to do, but he can’t keep away from her. His turmoil still simmers under the surface, but now he can hold it in check.

As he approaches his bedroom, Elly’s bedroom now as well, along with anyone who stays to protect her, the door opens.

Zayne steps out, his face unreadable. But Sylus knows him well enough to recognize the strain beneath the calm.

“We need to be careful,” Zayne says quietly. “We can’t let her slip away.”

Sylus nods, and that’s enough. They both know what the other means.

Zayne doesn’t move at first. Then, slowly, he shuts the door until only a sliver of light escapes through the crack. His hand lingers on the new biometric handle.

“She really thought we’d be happier if she died,” Zayne says quietly. His breath hitches.

Sylus steps forward and grips his shoulder tightly, offering the only thing he can. Solidarity. Understanding. Resolve. 

Zayne leans into it for just a moment, then straightens. Composed. The doctor again.

“She won’t think that for long,” Sylus says, his voice steady. His promise unspoken. Not while I’m breathing.

Zayne nods once, pats Sylus’s shoulder, and walks away. Heads toward the hospital wing or the ballroom retrofit. Somewhere he can make himself useful.

Inside, Sylus hears the faint rustle of sheets. A faint sigh. Elly shifting in bed.

He opens the door slowly.

Xavier sleeps on the far couch, still as stone. Elly lies curled on the bed, small and tense beneath the blanket. Caleb is asleep beside her, just barely touching. Turned toward her like a flower toward the sun.

Sylus’s chest tightens at the sight.

He heads to the shower first, letting the water run over the remnants of salt and sweat, washing away what he doesn’t want her to see. He changes into a silk pajama set, a retro design with embroidered cuffs. A style that made Elly flush and smile when she first saw him wear it.

He steps closer, careful not to wake her. But as he sinks into the chair beside the bed, her eyelids flutter open.

“Sylus?”

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he says softly.

“You didn’t.”

Her voice is raw, but there’s no defense in it, only honesty.

He reaches for her hand before he can think better of it. Laces their fingers.

“You scared me,” he whispers. “More than I think I’ve ever been scared.”

Her eyes shine. She doesn’t speak. Doesn’t have to.

“I know what you said. About dying if it meant they could have Eliwyn back.” His voice shakes, but he doesn’t let go. “But we wouldn’t have had her. And even if we did… it wouldn’t have been worth losing you.”

“I just wanted to make things right.”

“You being alive is right,” His hand tightens. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted. All any of us want.”

She exhales shakily. “I don’t know how to fix this.”

“You fix this by surviving.” His fingers squeeze hers gently. “By continuing to fight. Not just for us, but for yourself.”

She nods faintly, lashes low.

“Promise me,” he adds. “No more decisions like that. Not without talking to us.”

“I will… but, only if you all make the same promise to me,” she says. When he looks at her quizically, she continues, “I’ve seen some of the alternate timelines and incarnations. I’m not promising unless everyone else.” Sylus stills. Wonders if she knows about the time he had to make the same decision. He remains silent. After a minute, he nods in understanding, but not agreement. He will find a way to convince her.

She doesn’t move at first. But then, slowly, she pulls him onto the bed beside her. Her head rests just over his heart. It takes a little while, but eventually her breath evens out in sleep.

Sylus, however, doesn’t sleep.

He just holds her. And plans.

Because if the girl he loves ever dares believe she’s nothing again, Sylus will tear apart the stars to remind her otherwise.

***

Elly

Even before her eyes open, Elly can feel it. The stillness has weight, like the room is holding its breath. There’s a hum beneath her skin, one she recognizes instantly. The focused heat of a gaze locked on her, unrelenting. Watching. Waiting.

Slowly, she lifts her eyelashes, glancing around.

The light spilling across the floor is golden and soft, like simulated morning. Sylus is no longer beside her. On her other side, Caleb sleeps curled toward her, forehead, hand barely brushing her leg. But the intensity, the pressure, comes from across the room.

Xavier sits on the chaise lounge. Arms braced on his knees. Eyes on her. Dark and unreadable in their intensity.

“…How long have you been staring at me?” she whispers, throat dry.

“A while,” he answers quietly without apology, his attention unwavering.

Elly swallows and shifts upright, careful not to wake Caleb. She pulls a blanket from the bed and wraps it around herself like armor before crossing to sit on the far end of the lounge. The silence follows her. Heavy, expectant.

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

“You need rest.” He leans back, the motion casual. Almost. “I was willing to wait.”

 Whether he meant the double meaning or not, it hits Elly hard, knowing what she does about his past with MC. She sucks in a breath, not sure how to process that.

“Xavier…”

“You promised me.” His voice is even, but there’s a dangerous edge to it. “You said you wouldn’t pull away.”

Elly’s breath catches.

“You told me,” he continues, slowly rising to his feet and moving to stand in front of her, “you would give me time to figure out our connection and that you wouldn’t shut me out.”

She looks down, fingers twisting into the blanket. “I didn’t.”

He rises slowly and bends slightly, fingertips brushing her chin to tilt her face up to meet his azure and silver-flecked gaze. “Then what do you call deciding to die without telling me?”

The words hit harder than she expected. Her heart folds inward, and she closes her eyes against the weight of it.

“You smiled at me,” he murmurs. “Let me believe we had time. And the next moment, you were willing to disappear.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” she whispers. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

“You talk to me,” Xavier says. “That’s what you do.”

His hands cup her face, gently, like she might shatter. He leans forward until their foreheads meet. The warmth of his skin grounds her. Their resonance hums in the space between heartbeats.

“I don’t need you to be strong,” he says. “I just need you to be here.”

Her eyes burn behind her lids. “I thought that maybe, if I stepped aside, it would fix things. You’d get your individual timelines back. It would hurt me, but it would be right. Better for all of you.”

He exhales. Barely audible. But she feels it, the tension wound tight in his chest.

Still not looking at him, she nonetheless feels it when he slides closer to her on the lounge. Almost touching. Close enough to feel his heat. Then he exhales slowly.

“There is no ‘right’ without you,” he says, voice lower now, quieter. “I don’t want the life I had before. I want you. Not because of who you might have been, but because of who you are. I would choose you over a thousand lifetimes with anyone else.”

Her eyes open, finally meeting his. They shine, liquid and bright.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

He lifts his hand tentatively and brushes her hair gently back from her face.

“No more promises, Elly,” he says. “Just… stay. With me. With us.”

She nods, barely able to breathe. “I’ll try.”

“That’s all I want.”

When he pulls her into a hug, she doesn’t hesitate. Her arms wrap around him like she’s anchoring herself to this moment.

For a long time, they sit there, breathing the same air, sharing the same stillness. The silence between them is no longer heavy. No longer sharp. It’s soft. Full of warmth and something new.

Elly shifts, pulling back slightly. Just enough to see his face. She doesn't want distance. Not anymore.

Xavier lets her move, but doesn’t step away. She reaches for his hand. Their fingers lace together, and neither of them lets go. Her body drawn toward him like he’s the only light in her darkness.

The cushion dips beneath her as she presses her hand into the fabric for balance. She feels the rough grain of the upholstery under her fingertips as she rises, blanket slipping slightly from her shoulders.

Xavier watches her. His eyes are dark and unreadable, but not cold. Never cold. There’s hurt in it, yes. But beneath that, something steady. Steady and waiting.

 Elly takes a shallow breath. He said no more promises. So instead of hesitating, she chooses. One step closer. Her pulse flutters against her collarbone, delicate and rapid like wings against glass.

Xavier leans forward slightly, his posture easing, though the storm in his eyes remains. Searching hers.

The scent of him surrounds her. Warm skin, clean cotton, ink and old pages. A comfort she didn’t know she missed. The air between them tightens, vibrates as his presence brushes against hers.

Her heart gives a slow, low thud. Then she tilts her face up, inch by inch. Uncertain, but drawn. Wanting.

Xavier’s breath hitches. His jaw flexes. Tight, but he doesn’t move. Instead, his fingers thread through hers. The warm strength of his callused hand anchors her.

Her lips feel dry. She wets them out of habit, nerves fluttering low in her stomach, heart thudding in her chest.

Then she leans in and presses her lips to his.

The kiss is soft. Tentative. More breath than contact. He tastes faintly tangy and sweet. His lips are firm, but patient. He doesn’t push, but waits.

A shiver coils down her spine. She leans more of her weight into him, and he catches her easily. Cradling her to him. Her palm rests against his chest, where she feels the steady pulse of his heart. A rhythm she wants to memorize.

Her inexperience falls away beneath his gentleness. He doesn’t rush her. Let’s her lead. He’s patient. Every movement, every caress of his lips, every light flick of his tongue. His free hand drifts up to cradle her cheek, thumb stroking gently along her jawline. A quiet hum leaves him, a contented sound not unlike a sigh. Her stomach tightens at the intimacy of it. Warmth blooming in her chest.

Elly melts into it. Into him. Suspended in something quiet and golden. The ache in her ribs loosens. Warmth blooms in its place. Something new. A growing hunger. A feeling she’s not quite ready to explore or process.

They part slowly, reluctantly, her lips tingling with the memory of his. Breath unsteady. Her eyes flutter open to find his still watching her, close enough that she can see the flecks of silver hidden in the dark of them.

Xavier’s forehead presses gently to hers. The tip of his nose brushes hers, the contact tender and grounding.

“You don’t have to be anyone but yourself,” he whispers.

“It’s been so long… since I’ve thought about who that was.” Elly tries to thinks back to the girl she was before she dropped out of school to take care of her mother. Before every spare moment was spent on doctor’s visits and tests, and whatever job she could find that would work around her mom’s appointments. Now, even more has happened. “I’m not sure I know who that is,” she murmurs.

His grip tightens around hers. “Then let us help you find her.”

“You should rest some more.” He gathers the blanket and gently pulls her with him, sinking into the chaise. Draping it around them both, cradling her like a promise.

Silence falls, but it’s no longer empty. Elly’s nerves still sing. Her heart unspooling a little of its ache. She doesn’t know if this is the beginning of something or a moment outside of time. Either way, she’s grateful. For now, that’s enough.

When Xavier’s breath slows into sleep, Elly finally lets out the last of her tension. And for the first time in what feels like days, lets her eyes drift closed.

***

Freshly showered and feeling a little more human for the first time since Skyhaven, Elly exits the bathroom. Warm steam curls like ghosted breath around her ankles. Sylus’s robe hangs off her shoulders. The fabric is thick and plush, sleeves comically long. The hem brushes her calves. Comforting, if a little oversized. 

It smells like him. Citrus and spice, whisky, and a hint of gunsmoke. Somehow, that makes her more exposed, not less.

She cinches it tight, fingers clenching the belt.

The moment she steps out, she’s greeted by silence. Tension so thick it’s practically visible.

Xavier and Caleb stand facing each other, arms crossed, jaws clenched. The air between them practically vibrates. She doesn’t know how long they’ve been glaring at each other with thinly veiled animosity, but it’s clear she’s walked in at the wrong moment.

Both heads snap toward her.

Caleb’s eyes flick over to her once, sharp and quick. Then away, ears tinged red. Xavier’s expression softens, but only just. His knuckles flex at his sides.

Pausing mid-step, Elly clutches the robe a little tighter. Instantly regretting that she forgot to bring a change of clothes in with her before hopping in the shower. Her timing could not be worse.

“I’m just going to change,” she says quickly, gesturing toward the door.

“I’ll just be in my room,” she adds, firmer this time. “You don’t have to follow me.”

“We’re not leaving you alone,” Caleb says, too fast.

“You’re not going with her,” Xavier snaps, low but sharp.

“You certainly aren’t,” Caleb fires back.

Elly huffs, pinching the bridge of her nose. 

“Neither of you is coming in with me,” she says firmly. “There’s only one entrance.”

She slips into the hallway and heads to her door. Ignoring them as they follow her out and station themselves across the hall from it. She reaches for her door handle, but pauses as the sharp click of heels echoes down the corridor.

Sylus enters the hall, head down as he scrolls something on his holo, only to stop dead in his tracks. His eyes lift. First, taking in Caleb and Xavier, his eyes followed their gaze to find her.

The change is instantaneous. His posture goes still. The silence that follows is taut, charged in a way she can’t quite name. His gaze travels over her in the robe. His robe. And she sees it land, almost like a blow he wasn’t braced for. Her skin is still flushed and tingling, and she tightens the robe even further.

“Sylus,” she says softly.

He doesn’t respond right away. Just takes a breath. Then, finally, he lifts his eyebrow, the corner of his mouth curving slightly. Not his mocking smile, but something softer. More real. 

“You raided my closet?”

Her face flames. “I didn’t plan to. I didn’t realize I didn’t bring any clean clothes into the bathroom until I was already halfway through the shower. It was either this or my dirty clothes.”

Xavier clears his throat like he’s trying not to roll his eyes. Caleb shifts, now glaring equally at Sylus and Xavier.

“I’m not complaining,” Sylus continues, voice softer now. A beat. “You look... good.”

The heat in his eyes warms her until she’s flushed with more than embarrassment, and her breath catches. She sees him notice and wants to melt into the floor.

“I am just going to change,” she stammers, flustered, and fumbles with the door handle. 

“I’ll only be a minute,” Elly adds, finally managing to get the door open.

“We’ll be right here,” Sylus says, now focused entirely on her. His tone is quiet but firm. Protective. Familiar.

“Of course you will,” she mutters under her breath, shooting them all a glance before slipping into her room.

As the door closes behind her, she presses her back against it for a moment, hand still wrapped in the silky fabric of the robe. Her pulse flutters in her throat, and her thoughts are spinning faster than she can catch them. She inhales deeply to calm her breath and heart, but groans when all she smells is Sylus.

She hadn’t expected to see him. Not dressed like this.

And she definitely wasn’t prepared for the way he looked at her, like his robe on her was the most alluring thing in the world. Like seeing her wrapped in something of his triggered something deeper than words could describe.

She presses her hands to her face, palms cool against her warm cheeks. Get it together .

But her body won’t obey the order. Her skin is still flushed and tingling. She never thought wearing someone else’s clothes could feel so… intimate. She’s acutely aware of her nakedness under the silky fabric.

Oh god, do you think Sylus knows?

She groans because, of course, he does.

It’s fine. After all, I’m always naked under my clothes, right? This is no different. Right? 

She pretends to be convinced by this argument, because what other choice does she have? Pretends that it is the only issue.

Because it wasn’t just Sylus.

Caleb kept in physical contact with her all night. Never crowding, just close enough. Like he was afraid she would disappear if he couldn’t feel her. Xavier had kissed her like she mattered more than physics or fate.

And she… she had been ready to die for them. Despite everything, she can’t bring herself to regret it. Although she does regret the pain it caused. As upset as everyone is, she knows they would have made that same choice for MC had the roles been reversed. Several of them have, in other timelines. 

Since, apparently, there’s no way to separate the timelines, or get Eliwyn or their individual MCs back, she will just have to find a way to make sure none of them has to make that choice. 

To do that, though, they will need to be honest with each other. Trust each other. And work together. That is their biggest strength, and the one asset that none of them had in their other lifetimes and timelines. Each other. 

Part of her still wonders if that’s enough. If she’s enough. How could they be happy with her? She tries to shove the thought aside, to focus outward. That’s what helps. Not the fear. The bonds. The possibility of trust. They never had that in other lives. But now? They have her. And each other. Maybe that’s what changes everything.

A faint knock on her door breaks into her thoughts. Two quick taps. Caleb probably. Or Sylus.

“I’m fine,” she calls out, voice steady, even if her pulse still isn’t. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

Pushing away from the door, she heads to the wardrobe. Making a split-second decision, she shoves the robe into the back of the wardrobe where it can’t be easily seen. Wrapped in his robe and scent, she feels safe. That’s not something she’ ready to let go of. Hopefully, he won’t be mad if she keeps it. Just for a little while.

Remembering that she is likely to go through multiple rounds of testing today as Zayne gets his baselines ready for his new equipment, she layers. Breathable cotton underwear and a bra. A soft knit, short-sleeved tunic top of some luxurious fabric. Probably cashmere or silk, knowing Sylus. Layering over it a thick cable knit woolen cardigan with cute chunky retro buttons. A pair of thick leggings. Something warm and comfy that doesn’t make her too self-conscious.

 And when she steps into the hallway again, it's with her shoulders a little straighter, even as the three men waiting for her turn toward her like gravity. Not because they have to. But because something in them already belongs there.

Chapter Text

Zayne

The scent of solder and ozone greets Zayne the moment he steps into the ballroom-turned-laboratory. Gone is the polished sheen and elegance the space once held. In its place, coiled cables crisscross the antique flooring, consoles buzz with layered telemetry, and a haze of artificial blue light from the massive holo-displays meant to track everything. 

Or that’s the plan anyway. Although they aren’t quite there.

For the first time in days, his head doesn’t throb. A few blessed hours of uninterrupted sleep have cleared the worst of the fog. There’s a heaviness to his heart, but it has nothing to do with needing rest and everything to do with Elly’s admission.

His lab coat swings lightly as he moves to the main console. Jeremiah glances up from a tangled array of circuit boards, stylus tucked behind his ear.

“You’re up,” he mutters. “That was faster than we thought.”

“Not fast. Just rested enough to function,” Zayne says, eyes scanning the diagnostic overlay now hovering over the chamber grid. “How are we holding?”

“Barely,” Jeremiah says dryly. “Xavier’s new mini-GRMA and SonoSphere are fighting each other over priority pathways, both on the interface and the power grid. Luke’s been rerouting all night.”

As if on cue, a soft bang sounds from behind one of the shielding panels, followed by Luke’s muffled cursing. “That was the backup relay,” he calls. “Third one. Gone.”

“I’m going to assume that’s bad,” Zayne mutters.

Xavier’s voice cuts in calmly from where he’s seated at the far interface, surrounded by modified mini-RMA node transmitters. “We’re still running. But the load is pushing even the upgraded grid past its limit.”

“I thought we were going to replace the mains after the last overload?” Zayne frowns.

“We did,” Luke replies. “It’s not the grid. It’s the current draw. Between the SonoSphere, Xavier’s new resonance array, and the resonance chamber harmonics, we’re hitting peaks the system was never built to handle. I’ve called three electricians already, but they are fully booked. None can come in time.”

“Great,” Zayne mutters.

“Lucky for us,” Jeremiah interjects, “the ballroom’s on a different circuit than the rest of the manor. Some legacy system that the previous owner had installed for hosting galas. Otherwise, we’d be knocking out the entire manor every time the circuits blow.”

That, at least, is a relief.

Zayne exhales, pinching the bridge of his nose as he considers. “Okay. Triage the issues. Prioritize the SonoSphere and the resonance feedback filters. We’ll need clean individual scans before we can begin integrated testing.” 

He also sent a quick message to Sylus, figuring he would be able to either bribe someone or bring someone in from out of town.

Xavier doesn’t look up. “You’re leaving?”

“Just for a bit. I need to finish the baseline scans on everyone to make sure this doesn’t compromise anyone’s health, especially Elly. If I can’t measure her resting thresholds, I won’t be able to track what’s helping and what’s harming her.”

Luke peers out from under the panel. “Should we expect more surprises?”

Zayne gives a thin smile. 

“We’re trying to keep alive a girl whose existence on this world breaks the known rules of dimensional physics. Yes, Luke. We should expect all the surprises.”

With that, Zayne turns, already running calculations in his head as he makes his way back toward the medical wing.

Time to find out how much damage the last few days have done. Whether Elly’s extended rest with Sylus has improved her prognosis. This is imperative. If this isn’t done right, it could damage her already fragile heart and lungs. That would be catastrophic.

Finish the baseline testing on everyone, including himself. He also needs to do another workup of Caleb once he’s finished resting.

Not sure where he is, Zayne sends a message to the group chat to have Caleb and Elly meet him in the medical wing once they wake up. He knows someone will be with them, especially Elly.

None of them has been particularly willing to let her out of their sight since Skyhaven. Given the latest bit of news, she might be surprised to find how close they stay. His own feelings about the matter threaten to rise up, but Zayne ruthlessly pushes them down. 

He doesn’t have time to deal with them right now.

The hallway to the medical wing hums softly from shielded lights, diagnostic monitors, and equipment that never sleeps. There’s still a chill in the air. It feels comforting, how clinical, controlled, and sterile it is. Predictable. Dependable. 

Zayne relaxes slightly in the familiar environment as he begins switching on the equipment and machines he’s going to need. Monitors warm to life. Diagnostic software loads. Readouts begin to scroll in neat, orderly streams.

While his mind runs through all the results he’s going to need and he waits for everything to boot up, Zayne clears off the workspace of the detritus that has accumulated on it over the past couple of days. Various books and research material, a handled paper bag, and empty cups. Once he’s stacked them all together, he moves them to a table along the perimeter, except the mugs, which he takes back to the little beverage station and places in the dirty dish receptacle.

Once everything is fully online and organized the way he likes, Zayne checks his phone. They are eating breakfast and will be there shortly. 

He checks what they are eating and grabs another nutritional shake to supplement, along with an all-natural juice. Pancakes may be delicious, especially covered in syrup the way he likes, but no measurable nutritional value.

With that reminder, he sends Sylus a copy of the comprehensive physical, nutritional, and mental health program he designed for Elly before lying down to rest. It should give her the support to heal as they go through the testing process. The incremental increase in physical activity and Evol training should allow her to progress without causing undue strain on her mind and body.

It’s not long before Sylus arrives, fingers threaded through Elly’s. Caleb is a step behind them, a disgruntled look on his face as his eyes flick down periodically to where their hands are entwined.

“If I could speak with Caleb privately first,” Zayne says matter-of-factly.

“Sure, we’ll be in the residential wing,” Sylus says easily, already turning back toward the doors.

“No!” Caleb’s voice is almost harsh, but Zayne sees the panic in Caleb’s eyes.

“We’ll go sit over there.” Elly agrees quickly. 

Zayne wordlessly hands her the shake and juice. She grimaces but takes them.

He watches her drink. Part of him is relieved, but residual anger still tightens in his chest. For now, her compliance will do. But it won’t last long unless they convince her she matters as much to them as they do to her.

Caleb sits at the edge of the chair, elbow on knee, left-hand fingers drumming restlessly against his thigh. Zayne notices the subtle flex of his right hand—too deliberate to be unconscious. There’s something restless in his movement.

Zayne approaches quietly. “How are you feeling?”

Caleb glances up at him, casual, but not unguarded. “Alright. Just…”

“Just?”

“Nothing.” Despite the dismissal, Caleb rubs absently at his right arm.

“Is your arm bothering you?”

Caleb gestures vaguely toward his right side. “Must’ve slept on it weird. Just feels like it’s asleep.”

Zayne frowns but doesn’t respond immediately. He’d gone over the scan data after Caleb collapsed. The mimetic skin and biomechanical structure of the arm were advanced, cutting-edge enough to fool most diagnostics. But based on the neurofeedback and embedded interface signals, Caleb should have full sensory feedback.

“Mind if I take a look?” he asks evenly.

Caleb shrugs. “Knock yourself out.”

Zayne runs a full reflex and sensory assessment on the prosthetic. Reflexes: normal. Grip strength: above baseline. Sensory response, though, diminished. Pressure, temperature, texture—all degraded. Only pain and proprioception register cleanly.

Not typical for this model. Not accidental, either.

It’s clear from Caleb’s confusion—and his lack of awareness—that he doesn’t know. Zayne debates how much to share. But withholding this could shatter whatever fragile trust he’s built. Especially now that Elly is the one thing tethering Caleb to cooperation.

“Did Elly tell you about the explosion?” Zayne asks carefully.

Caleb’s brow furrows. His gaze flicks to Elly across the room, guarded. Worried.

“She wasn’t there,” Zayne clarifies. “Eliwyn was. She sustained injuries, but not as bad as we expected.”

Zayne watches Caleb closely. A flicker crosses his eyes—too fast to catch, but unmistakable. A phantom of memory, perhaps.

“The house where you and Elly were raised—there was an explosion. Your grandmother didn’t survive.”

Another twitch in Caleb’s expression. Still no outward reaction. But something’s shifting.

“You were inside. We thought you were dead. Eliwyn thought you were dead for months.”

Another flicker. Emotion flits across his face again, unreadable this time.

“You were injured. It’s possible you couldn’t reach out, or weren’t in any condition to.”

“I appreciate you telling me this…” Caleb says slowly, “But why now?”

“Because your arm isn’t what you think it is.”

Zayne pulls up a scan on the nearest interface, deliberately zooming only on the shoulder and limb, keeping the chip site out of frame.

Caleb narrows his eyes but leans in. Then he sees it.

Sleek, matte alloy plating—jointed, curved to mimic the fine structure of muscle and bone—extends from shoulder to wrist. His breath catches.

Caleb clenches his right hand into a fist, then releases it. The movement is fluid. Almost too fluid.

“No,” he says, so quietly Zayne almost misses it. “No, this is—this can’t be—”

“Someone replaced it,” Zayne says gently. “It must have been damaged beyond repair.”

“I… I don’t remember.” Caleb’s breath hitches. His other hand trembles as he lifts it, reaching toward the limb like it belongs to someone else.

Zayne keeps his voice steady. Clinical, but quiet. “I don’t know if the reduced sensation is part of the design or a sign of degradation. I need to run additional scans to confirm.”

Caleb’s eyes are still locked on the screen, but his voice is hoarse. “Does Elly know?”

“She didn’t know you were alive until Skyhaven. Neither did Eliwyn.”

Zayne hesitates. “That’s why I was going to ask them to step out. If she sees the scan, she may realize what it is.”

Caleb glances at Elly. The torn look on his face is clear—caught between needing her near and wanting to keep her in the dark.

“The prosthetic interfaces with your central nervous system,” Zayne adds. “It responds like a biological limb. Most people wouldn’t know the difference.”

Caleb doesn’t speak.

“I can run the imaging on your full system. I’ll also lock the interface—no one will see the results unless I enter the override.”

That gets through. Caleb looks up, jaw tight. His right hand rests like a dead weight on his thigh.

“Alright,” he says reluctantly. “Elly’s health is the most important thing.”

Zayne doesn’t speak. He adjusts the settings, secures the data lock, and begins prepping for the scan.

He hesitates, thumb lingering over a different file. The other scans. The chip. If he waits, the truth might come out another way—wrongly, violently. Zayne doesn’t know how the others would feel about this choice, but he owes Caleb the truth. And Elly, the safety of transparency.

He doesn’t soften the blow.

“There’s more.”

Caleb braces, left hand gripping the chair until his knuckles go white.

“You should know. Your arm isn’t the only issue.”

Caleb’s eyes narrow. “What else?”

Zayne turns the monitor, zooming in on the mastoid region, just behind the ear. The chip is visible, its casing distinct from any known implant registry.

“The chip we think the fleet implanted,” he says, “it’s not listed in any prosthetic, neural interface, or cybernetic enhancement database.”

Caleb’s breath stills. His body doesn’t move, but the tension in his frame spikes.

“What do you know about it?” he grinds out.

Zayne meets his eyes. “It’s called a Toring chip.”

Caleb doesn’t react at first. The name means nothing to him, not consciously.

But something flickers beneath the surface. Like a switch waiting to be thrown.

The vein in Caleb’s forehead begins to beat faster.

Zayne continues, voice calm but firm. “We don’t know much more about it, besides the name and some symptoms, such as acting abnormally, sudden shifts in loyalty or priorities, and even catatonia.”

Caleb’s eyes narrow. “You’re saying… it can change  my loyalties?” Zayne doesn’t miss as Caleb’s eyes flick to Elly momentarily.

“Yes. For this reason, you will not be left alone with Elly. We can’t take any chances of the chip acting up. It also appears to have some sort of failsafe against removal.”

“Why would they have done this?”

“We don’t know, but if I had to form a hypothesis, control.”

Caleb laughs once, bitter and without humor. “Well, that’s just great.”

Zayne decides against sharing any additional information. It’s enough for Caleb to be on his guard. If Caleb’s memory returns, it can all be explained by the actions and resulting condition of the two guards who kidnapped Elly for Caleb.

“I don’t have the equipment or technology needed to do a thorough diagnostic on the chip,” Zayne advises. Not a lie, since it is Sylus and Xavier who are handling that portion of the process. “So I don’t know if it’s active, but given what little we know, it could be partially or fully responsible for your amnesia.”

Caleb breathes hard, shoulders shaking. Not with fear, but with the sheer force of suppressed fury. Something Zayne hasn’t seen but once before, when they were younger and he found out someone was tormenting Eliwyn. Caleb’s fingers twitch, and Zayne can see the conflict in his spine.

“You said we were friends once,” Caleb says tightly. “So tell me the truth. If that chip turns me into someone else, are you going to put me down?”

Zayne’s answer is quiet. Instant.

“ No .”

Caleb turns sharply.

“I’m going to fight like hell to bring you back.”

“ Why ?” Something fractures in Caleb’s expression. Just for a moment.

“Because we are friends, not past tense. The others will fight for you too.”

Caleb frowns, obviously distrust in his purple sunset eyes as they meet Zayne.

“I don’t even know them. Why would they do that for me?”

“ Elly .” One word, but it’s all the answer Zayne needs to give. Caleb drops his head and takes a deep, shuddering breath. When he raises it, there’s something new in his eyes.

Not trust. Not yet . But something close.

Zayne steps aside and gestures toward the glass partition. “Come. Let’s go get those scans and baseline tests completed. The more we know, the faster we can find a way to help Elly.”

Caleb hesitates. Still processing, but grudgingly nods.

But the fire hasn’t left his eyes.

And Zayne knows he’s going to need that fire.

They both will.

They get to work. Zayne does a full workup of both blood and comprehensive advanced imaging to determine if the lack of sensation is physical, mental, or biological. He also runs some simultaneous scans on the chip that could provide additional information. If they can’t remove it, maybe they can find a way to exploit it.

Realizing it is going to take a while, Zayne sends a message to Sylus to warn him. Shortly afterward, one of his men arrives with a loveseat and sets it against a far wall, next to the table. There’s a canvas bag that Sylus pulls an afghan and a book from. Once he settles Elly in with the book, Sylus continues to work while maintaining physical contact with her.

“What was Eliwyn like when she was young?” Caleb asks quietly between tests while Zayne is calibrating a new machine.

“A lot like adult Eliwyn. Fearless, reckless, chaos incarnate.” Zayne chuckles. “She would get these ideas into her head, and nothing and no one could dissuade her. One time, she climbed a tree until she was forty feet in the air and leaped off so you could fly her down with your Evol. Even though we begged her not to. You told her you didn’t have full control of your Evol yet, but that didn’t stop her. She was completely confident that you would catch her. That you would never let her come to harm. She was right, but I don’t think I ever saw you so scared. Or so mad.” Zayne shudders at the memory of the sheer terror that had gone through him when he realized she was jumping. He continues in a more somber tone.

“But, occasionally, she would go quiet. Dissociative. Sometimes for hours. Sometimes for days. She would get this distant look in her eyes like she wasn’t quite there anymore. She forgot people and things she had known for years. Didn’t respond to what was going on around her. You were the only person she would even acknowledge.”

Zayne stops, deciding against telling Caleb how frantic he would get when Eliwyn would fall into these dissociative spells. Even though she only responded to Caleb, it was like Caleb was afraid she wouldn’t come back from them. She always did. Eventually. It was only once he became a doctor that Zayne learned the spells were a trauma-induced response. Given what Eliwyn confided in him about what she uncovered after her grandmother’s death, it makes sense.

“Why?” Caleb frowns, gaze turned inward, jaw tight, eyes showing frustration, likely at his inability to remember.

“I don’t know. She never said.”

“And Elly?”

Zayne shook his head. “Other than her early childhood fight with heart disease, I don’t know much. I know she started to recover around eight years old, which is apparently when part of her soul transmigrated here, which saved her life. Eliwyn’s, too, technically, since Eliwyn was that part of her soul. If she hadn’t done that, we wouldn’t have had either  of them. After that, I don’t know. Elly hasn’t said much.”

“And now?”

“ Now ? Elly’s so much stronger than she realizes,” Zayne says, eyes softening as he gazes fondly at Elly, where she sits cuddled up reading her book. He thinks back over everything that she has already been through. “She’s thoughtful, smart, and compassionate. Caring. Protective of those she cares for.” Zayne hesitates.

“But?”

“But, I don’t think she has the relentless drive for survival that Eliwyn had.”

“Then I guess, we will have to be relentless in our drive for her survival,” Caleb says with a familiar determination, one Zayne remembers seeing on his face when they were younger. Every time Caleb looked at Eliwyn.

***

Elly

The low hum of monitors and the soft click of equipment fill the sterile quiet as Elly closes the book in her lap. The leather cover is warm from where her fingers lingered over it. An older edition of The Glass Crown of Ilyria , edges worn and pages gently creased. It smells like dust and comfort. Like home.

Xavier brought it for her from his apartment . Said it made him think of her.

He hadn’t figured out what had happened to Eliwyn, yet. But he’d still thought of her. Not as a stand-in. Not as a copy.

Just… her.

Her heart aches in a good way. A soft, swelling warmth under her ribs. Not unlike the way she had felt when she kissed him earlier this morning. She had forgotten how thoughtful he could be in the game. Even with a new book she wanted to read, her thoughts wouldn’t stop racing.

She shifts on the padded bench tucked into the corner of the medical wing, stealing another glance across the room. Zayne and Caleb are still talking, the glow of the scanner casting ghostly light across their features.

It looks like they’re wrapping up. Caleb’s shoulders are tense, but his expression isn’t closed off like before. Zayne’s brow is furrowed in that way, which means he’s trying not to worry, even though he is. Deeply.

Elly breathes out slowly and gently places the book in the bag they had brought with the couch and the afghan.

Despite trying not to dwell on him, she misses the way his teasing makes her feel both lighter and somehow grounded at the same time. It’s been two days since she’s seen him. Since just after Xavier’s revelation. He wasn’t there when everything shattered under the weight of her admission of what she’d been prepared to do. What she’d nearly chosen. Does he know? Is he upset? Was it too much for him?

A knot begins to form in her chest, tightening with every passing second. She tries not to let it sink into panic. Maybe he’s just tired. Maybe he needed space.

But her brain won’t stop whispering, what if he’s mad? Or worse, what if he’s avoiding you?

She pushes herself up. Sylus, ever vigilant where he sits beside her, looks up. He stops immediately, eyes scanning her face like he’s already looking for signs of distress. 

“You okay?”

“I just…” Her fingers knot into the hem of her cardigan. “I haven’t seen Raf this morning. And I was wondering if—if there’s a way to message him? My phone was mostly broken before everything happened… and even if it wasn’t, I’m not sure it would even work in this world.”

Sylus sets his tablet down. There’s a beat of silence before he asks carefully, “Do you want a new one?” 

He watches her face closely. Then adds, “Or would you rather have Eliwyn’s device… cloned to a new shell?”

The question stops her cold.

“It might help to see what her life looked like through her own eyes and words.”

She hadn’t thought about that. About what it would mean to carry Eliwyn’s device. Her data. Her photos. Her words. Her life . 

Would it be weird? 

Elly can’t help but wonder what’s on it. Does Eliwyn have the same pictures that Elly took in the game with her phone? What else does she have?

She opens her mouth to answer, beginning slowly. “I think I would like my own phone and phone number, but I would like to see what she had on it. I could even compare it against my phone…” Elly trails off, a frown forming.

Her phone. 

She remembers reading old text messages during the slow hours of her last shift to help pass the time.

Her pulse jumps, and she stiffens.

“Sylus… “My phone,” she breathes. “I had it. That night. It was in my pocket when you rescued me. But, I haven’t seen it since waking up here.”

Sylus’s brow furrows as he taps rapidly into his tablet.

“There’s a log entry… property catalogued. Including your phone.” A pause. His tone flattens. “But it wasn’t in your room when we left the hospital.”

Her pulse jumps. “So someone has it.”

“Yes,” he confirms, already rising to make a call.

Sylus is immediately on his comm, tension forming in his spine. Zayne and Caleb both glance up, but continue their discussion when she shakes her head. 

With a reassuring glance, Sylus exits through the doors to the rest of the manor and heads down the hall. Already murmuring about checking records and sending someone to investigate.

Someone took her phone.

What information would they be able to glean about her from a broken phone? Could they find a way to access her photos, social media, or anything that confirms she’s not from this world?”

Her heart stutters. Then begins to pound. 

As her thoughts stumble into one another, the room feels too quiet. A kind of hush that makes her skin feel too tight. Her breath is too short. 

There’s a beep across the room, but it barely registers as her anxiety begins to climb.

“Elly?” She hears her name being called, but it sounds like it’s coming through water. 

Breathe , she thinks, but the thought slips away before she can act on it.

She tries to remember what Rafayel taught her. Close your eyes. Find the center.

She can’t.

All she can feel is the area around her solar plexus vibrating faster and faster.

Chills race down her spine. She begins to shiver.

When she feels herself lifting, weightless, off the loveseat, Elly knows she’s in trouble.

No, no, not again—  Her hands tremble as she curls in on herself. The roaring in her ears grows louder, swallowing sound, swallowing sense. Her chest tightens, breath skipping like a broken record.

Warm hands grab her arms. Her eyes fly open.

Caleb

He’s saying something, but she can’t hear him. Not over the roar.

Snowflakes swirl around her. She rises higher. Begins to tilt.

But Caleb anchors her.

Pulls her in.

His lips brush hers, and the chaos stops.

Everything narrows to that single point of contact: heat, softness, him

Her brain short-circuits. All thought dissolves. 

She’s no longer counting breaths or tracking heartbeats. She’s not thinking about the phone, or Rafayel, or her Evol spiraling out of control.

I should stop this,  she thinks, barely.

I should pull away.

But she doesn’t.

Because the second his mouth finds hers again, something unravels inside her. Not fear, or panic. Just… release.

She melts. 

Her fingers tangle in the front of his shirt before she even realizes she’s moved. Caleb’s hand slides into her hair, the other steadying her hip. Anchoring her. Holding her like he’s afraid she’ll disappear.

She’s still floating, but now it feels like something else entirely.

His lips ghost over her face, soft, teasing. Then over her eyes. Her cheek. Her temple. The clatter of equipment crashing to the floor barely registers.

Breathe , she thinks, breathe . 

But she can’t. Not in any normal way. Her lungs feel too full. Her ribs ache from how hard her heart is pounding.

Warmth curls low in her belly. Not panic this time. Not anxiety. Something hot. Something alive .

When his mouth grazes the line of her jaw, then dips lower, skimming her throat, Elly gasps. 

It isn’t the cold that makes her tremble now. It’s him. It’s this.

With a gasp, Caleb is wrenched backward, away from her. Only then does Elly realize that she’s floating several feet above the ground. 

And only then does she see Xavier, a blur of motion, close the distance. A punch lands with brutal precision, driving Caleb back. His concentration breaks. Just for a second. 

Gravity slams back into her. She yelps, startled, but before she hits the ground, strong arms catch her mid-fall. Impact never comes.

Xavier is there, like a force of nature. One arm around her waist, the other behind her shoulders. Steady. Solid. Holding her the same way he had on the roof of Willow Medical.

“What the hell are you doing?” Xavier’s voice is low, hard-edged. His eyes are flat, unreadable. But the fury simmering beneath his voice makes her shiver, even though she knows it's not directed at her.

“Xavier, stand down,” Zayne calls out, pulling himself up from the floor on the other side of the room. His tone is strained, exhausted. “Elly was having another Evol storm.”

 Concern floods Xavier’s features. “Are you okay?”

“I’m alright now,” Elly quickly assures him, “You can put me down.” 

Instead, Xavier swings her fully into his arms, holding her tight. His expression flickers. Hurt beneath the intensity.

Cautiously, Caleb steps closer, rubbing his jaw. Elly avoids his gaze.

Zayne’s already approaching. “Let me check your vitals.”

Before he can reach her, the door crashes open.

Sylus and Rafayel step into the room from a swirl of black and red mist.

“We got an alert from the heart monitor,” Sylus says, urgency sharpening his voice. “What happened?”

“I had another anxiety attack, which turned into an Evol storm.” Elly flushes, ashamed. “Caleb stopped it.”

“How did you know to do that?” Zayne asks Caleb, his voice flat.

“I don’t know. It felt… familiar. Like it’s happened before.” Caleb shrugs, unsure.

“That’s because it has,” Elly murmurs, face burning hotter. “When I was in the fleet infirmary, I had a similar panic attack. And I… kissed you. To stop it.” 

That’s twice you’ve basically forced Caleb to kiss you , she thinks, face heating with shame.

Zayne studies Caleb clinically. “Does that bring up any memories?”

Caleb only shakes his head.

With a nod, Zayne does a quick scan of Elly’s vitals, then returns to his terminal.

The room is scattered with equipment displaced by the storm. Frosted metal edges, overturned chairs. Glimmers of particles and shards drift along the floor like aftershocks.

“Elly,” he calls, not turning around. “I want to run some additional diagnostics to make sure there’s no residual damage. Then we’ll finish your baseline.”

Xavier carries her to the chair Zayne indicates.

But instead of setting her down, he sits first, settling her in his lap like she belongs there.

A low huff escapes Rafayel. He drags another chair across the floor, scraping it loudly, and sits. Distant. His posture is rigid, his expression unreadable.

Her heart aches.

Sylus leans against a nearby desk. Caleb grabs a chair and pulls it too close, until Zayne coughs softly, pointedly. Caleb stops short, folding his arms. His eyes never leave her.

Is it guilt? Fear? Pain?

She doesn’t know. She’s too tired to untangle it.

Zayne looks up from his console, his face all business now. No warmth. No softness. Even the faint smile that had once lingered at the corners of his mouth is gone.

The air feels colder.

He checks her vitals methodically, attaching sensors. The pressure cuff bites against her arm. The cold stethoscope stings slightly against her skin.

Then he hands her a slim folder.

“I’ve prepared a revised itinerary,” he says, without meeting her gaze. “Meal plan tailored to reduce cardiac inflammation. Exercise protocol to slowly increase your stamina. Evol training schedule. We’ll adjust as needed, but here’s the rough outline.”

Elly stares at the dense data sheets. Color-coded blocks. Time stamps. Endless checkboxes.

“This is a rough outline?” she murmurs.

“I had to be thorough,” Zayne replies briskly. “Someone has to make sure you live.”

The words hit harder than they should. Her throat tightens.

He continues, impersonal and efficient, adjusting sensors on her wrist and chest.

She wants to say something. Anything. But the air between them is brittle. Like one wrong word might shatter it. 

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” she finally whispers, glancing at Zayne… then Rafayel. “I know I should’ve said something sooner. But I didn’t want to make it harder for anyone. I thought… if there was a way to bring Eliwyn back, maybe it would be worth—”

A sharp crack interrupts her.

She looks up.

Frost spiders across Zayne’s knuckles where he grips the metal desk. Tiny veins of ice lace outward beneath his hand.

The temperature in the room drops.

“You don’t get to make that decision,” Zayne says tightly, his jaw clenched hard enough it looks painful. “Not without talking to someone. Not without talking to me .”

Elly opens her mouth—but he cuts her off.

“You would have died. And you didn’t think we deserved to know? That I deserved to know?”

A mist of ice crystals floats in the air now. Her lungs ache with the cold.

“Zayne—”

“You can’t keep doing this.” His voice rises. “You don’t get to vanish. You don’t get to choose for me whether I lose you.”

Pain flares in her chest.

But something else, too.

Anger. And fear.

She pushes off Xavier’s lap, nearly stumbling, the packet in her lip slipping to the floor.

“You’re one to talk,” she snaps. “You act like I betrayed you. But we both know, you would have done the same thing. All of you would. All of you did.”

Zayne's eyes narrow. “What are you talking about?”

“In another timeline, you sacrificed yourself for MC,” she says, voice rising. “You died, Zayne. And you didn’t warn her ahead of time. You decided for her.” 

Elly’s breath catches on a sob that she tries and fails to force down.

“Then you kissed her for the first and last time and just disappeared. I may not have those memories, but I’ve seen them. In the game. You’ve all sacrificed something of yourselves. Your freedom, your people, your lives. Without warning. Without permission. So don’t you dare act like you’re any different.”

The room crackles. Frost blooms along Zayne’s shoulders haloing him in an icy shimmer.

“I would do anything to protect you—”

“So would I!” Elly yells, voice raw. “You think I wanted to leave? You think it was easy? I understand you’re mad. But how do you think I feel?”

Silence falls. Sharp. Hollow. Absolute.

Zayne’s Evol pulses. He winces, physically recoiling, and Elly feels the buzz. Wrong. Discordant. Like static scraping the edges of a melody. 

Anger drains from her in an instant. Replaced with sympathy and compassion. Without thinking, she steps forward and takes his hands.

“Elly, don’t,” he says tightly, but she’s already searching. Already reaching inward. 

Earlier, when panic clouded her, the still quiet place within had eluded her. But now, for him, she locates it effortlessly. 

A deep, humming calm. She sinks into that space and focuses where their hands meet. 

The dissonance is strange, pressing inward rather than radiating out. Not his pain exactly. Something pressing on him. Into him.

“Kitten, maybe you should stop—” Sylus begins.

“Let her,” Rafayel cuts in quietly.

Elly tunes them out. Her resonance reaches deeper. Searching for the thread of Zayne beneath the static. 

And there it is. 

Clear. Piercing. 

A vibration like a cold wind racing down a mountain peak. Like an eagle's cry in winter.

It falters. Off-key. Wounded. Trying to fight, but failing.

Intuitively, she knows matching his resonance won't help. The static is at just the right interval to destabilize Zayne's Evol specifically.

She tries what she did with Rafayel. Harmonizing. Their combined tones succeed in pushing it back, but it’s not enough. Interference claws at him from all sides. 

Instinct drives her outward.

She locates Rafayel’s deep, oceanic resonance in the room and pulls it into the chord. Zayne’s clear tone. Rafayel’s depth. Her own. 

A completed triad.

Together, they resonate louder than the chaos.

The dissonance cracks—splinters—then fades.

Only when it’s gone does she allow herself to surface.

She exhales shakily.

Frost vanishes from Zayne’s skin. The sharpness in the air melts into stillness. 

Then dizziness hits. Her knees buckle.

“Elly.” Zayne’s voice is breath away, his arms catching her before she falls. Cool to the touch, but steady. Grounding.

“I’m fine,” she murmurs, dazed. “Just a little…”

“You’re not fine,” he snaps, then softens. “Come on.”

He carries her across the room and settles her onto the worn velvet loveseat. The familiar antiseptic tang of the medical wing mixes with the faint woodsy mint of Zayne’s skin. Familiar. Anchoring.

She barely notices the others moving until Sylus kneels beside her, examining the heart monitor’s readout like he understands it.

“Is she stable enough to stay, or should we move her?” he asks.

Zayne checks the readout. “For now.”

“Then she won't need a hospital bed,” Sylus lifts her legs gently across his lap. “Just don’t move too fast.”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” she mutters.

Xavier crouches at her shoulder, brushing damp hair from her forehead with surprising tenderness. The gesture loosens something tight in her chest.

Zayne checks her pulse, despite the steady chirp of the monitor. His fingers linger a moment too long. 

She doesn’t mind. Not one bit.

And yet… 

“Ow,” she mutters, shifting. “Something’s digging into me.”

“What is it?” Xavier asks instantly.

“Something under me. Broken equipment, most likely. Astra, damn it. This is all His  fault.”

Xavier blinks. “Astra?”

“There was a fan theory back in my world. People thought Astra was the reason for your Evol instability.” She looks at Zayne. “In the timeline where you sacrificed yourself, you were his emissary. The Foreseer. But you fell in love with the MC. And he punished you for it. He turned your Evol against you. Tortured you with it.”

Zayne tenses, but doesn’t let go of her hand.

“I know it sounds ridiculous,” she says, “but when I was stabilizing your resonance… I felt it. Something external. Not you. Like you were being attacked. That’s what’s wrong with your Evol. It’s not you losing control. It’s something else trying to take it from you.”

Zayne looks away. But his grip tightens.

She shifts again, reaching beneath her hip. Her fingers brush something jagged and cool.

“What the hell—?”

Her hand closes around it. 

Pain slices through her finger.

“Ah—!” she gasps, jerking upright.

Blood wells up.

“Elly?” Caleb’s voice cuts through the tension, already moving.

She opens her hand.

There, glittering in her palm is the Aether Core .

Zayne inhales sharply. “That’s—how did—”

“Elly, don’t—” Xavier reaches forward.

But it’s too late.

A single drop of blood hits the crystal.

A pulse ignites. Soundless. Deafening. Like glass shattering underwater.

The world explodes inside her mind.

She doesn't scream. 

She doesn't even breathe.

Her eyes roll back. 

Her body goes rigid.

“Elly!” Caleb shouts.

“She’s seizing!” Sylus yells. “Get her on the floor—gently!”

Zayne is already ripping off the monitors. “Her heart rate’s spiking—damn it, I can’t stabilize it—”

“She’s not breathing!” Xavier’s voice breaks, raw. “Zayne—”

“I know !” Frost crawls along the floor as Zayne’s Evol spikes again. “Just—hold her steady!”

Elly’s body convulses, a storm of movement and sound locked inside her skin.

Behind her eyes—

A deluge.

Voices. Memories. Visions. Pain and joy. Echoes and fragments.

A soul-shattering flood of feeling.

Too much.

All at once.

The voices become distant. Hollow. Like shouting from the bottom of a frozen lake.

“Elly—stay with us!”

“Dammit, Rafayel—”

“Elly!”

And then—

Darkness.

Chapter Text

Xavier

She’s not breathing.

Elly’s body arches on the floor, spine bowed into an unnatural curve, lips parted in a silent scream. Her skin has gone the wrong kind of pale, ashen-blue, almost translucent. For one endless, breathless moment, Xavier fears she’s already gone.

Then the heart monitor shrieks.

Her hand is clenched around the Aether Core, its fractured glow spasming like a dying star that doesn’t know how to stop.

Xavier is already moving.

“Elly. Elly, come back. Starlight , come back to me.”

He grabs her wrist, his fingers brushing the Core—

And the world detonates.

Pain slams into him like a sledgehammer. Her resonance, bright and raw, floods his nervous system in a blinding surge. He doesn't hear his own scream or feel his body lift from the floor. Instinct honed in blood and metaflux twists him in midair. He lands hard in a crouch, breath ragged, one hand braced on the tile. Static fills his vision. His bones tremble.

In the haze, he registers Caleb holding Elly’s legs, Sylus bracing her shoulders, Zayne barking commands over the monitors. But the throb in his skull drowns them all out.

Elly is convulsing. Her back bowed tight, blood dripping from her clenched hand.

She's dying.

And Xavier can’t destroy the Core. Not yet. Not without knowing what it would do to her.

Her blood and resonance triggered the core. That means the Core recognized her. Recognized Eliwyn in her. It's not attacking her.

Is it claiming her?

Too fast…

He exhales sharply. Don’t rip it out. Unbind it.

“Don’t touch it again!” Zayne’s voice cuts like ice. “It could kill you!”

“I’m not.” Xavier drops beside her, ignoring the pain still rattling his limbs. “I’m going to talk to her.”

He braces his hands on either side of her face, thumbs gently brushing her temples. Her eyes flicker wildly beneath her lids.

“Elly.” His voice is low, firm. “I know you can hear me.”

The Core pulses brighter. 

“Feel it. Don’t fight it. You’ve always had resonance. You were born with it. Even if your world didn’t have a name for it.”

Another spike. Her body twitches.

He leans closer, forehead resting against hers. “But this doesn’t own you. Nothing does. You choose where your power flows. You choose what to keep… and what to let go.”

His hands shift, hovering over hers. “Don’t let it take more than you’re ready to give. Breathe , Starlight. Let it go, and come back to me.”

Her lips part. Her body jerks.

Then—

The Core flickers.

Once.

“That’s it,” he breathes.

Twice.

Then dims.

Her hand loosens. Pulse still fluttering, but not wild. The resonance calms. The Core lets go.

Carefully, Xavier eases her fingers open. The Core rolls free, clattering faintly across the floor. Still glowing. Not inert. But no longer consuming.

“She’s alive,” he says hoarsely. “Core’s neutralized. For now.” 

Sylus reacts first. With a sharp motion, the Core lifts in his Evol, levitating away from Elly. A hospital bed glides into the room from the corridor, summoned by the same controlled force.

He and Zayne lift Elly gently onto the mattress while Xavier steadies her head. Her skin is clammy. Her breath is shallow.

Zayne checks vitals, jaw taut. Caleb stands frozen behind him, arms locked across his chest like they’re holding him together.

Rafayel hasn’t moved. His stance is coiled. Stricken eyes fixed on Elly as though, if he blinks, she’ll vanish.

“What the hell happened?” he asks.

“She didn’t just trigger the Core,” Xavier murmurs. “I think she awakened it.”

And maybe it was never meant for Eliwyn at all.

Maybe it was always meant for Elly.

But why?

Zayne’s voice is a growl. “Her heart nearly arrested. It disrupted the electric current—she was seconds from flatlining.”

No one speaks.

Because they all saw it too.

Caleb shifts closer, the protectiveness in his eyes almost painful to witness. Xavier watches that instinct tighten around the boy and feels something sour twist deep in his own chest.

Jealousy. Guilt.

Both.

He kneels beside the bed, brushing sweat-damp curls from Elly’s brow. She flinches faintly, but doesn’t pull away.

His chest eases, just a little.

Behind him, Zayne finally speaks again. “We’ll need to run a full diagnostic. See what changed.”

The others are murmuring behind him. Zayne is calling for Yvonne, issuing instructions for blood panels. Sylus finds containment to secure the core. Caleb was unconsciously moving closer to her bedside.

“Xavier,” Zayne says quietly, standing just behind him. “She’s stable enough for now, but her heart can’t handle another event like that.”

“I know.” His voice is raw. He doesn’t look up. “It wasn’t just her resonance that activated it. It was her blood. It was like it wanted a piece of her.”

“It got one.” Zayne crouches beside him, his tone softer now. “We need to figure out what happened and why the Core was cracked before. If it happened when Eliwyn died…”

“…then Elly’s blood might have triggered Eliwyn’s regenerative process that was aborted when she used her body as fuel. But corrupted or incomplete due to the damage to the core.” Xavier exhales slowly.

“Which means it might try again.”

Xavier nods.

“We’ll make sure it doesn’t have the opportunity,” Sylus assures them as he places it into a lead vault held by Kieran.

“ Starlight ,” he whispers, “you did well. But let’s not do that again.”

Her lashes flutter.

Then—

A quiet, broken breath leaves her lips. Then her eyes open, unfocused and shimmering with confusion.

“Elly,” Xavier says gently, brushing hair away from her damp forehead. “Elly, can you hear me?”

“Xavier…?” she murmurs.

He lets out a shaky exhale. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m here, Starlight.”

“We need to stop meeting like this,” she whispers. She tries to sit up, but Zayne presses a hand to her shoulder. 

“Not yet. Stay still. You just seized.”

Elly blinks slowly. “I… I don’t remember seizing.” Her gaze flicks to the Core floating by Sylus, suspended in his Evol, then back to Xavier. “What happened?”

Zayne leans in. “You tell us.”

“I don’t… remember.” Elly’s brows furrow, and Xavier squeezes her hand gently.

“Can you confirm your name?” Zayne asks cautiously. Xavier’s breath catches in his throat.

Her gaze finds him first, then Sylus, then Xavier, and finally Rafayel. “Elly,” she breathes. “My name is Elinore Wrede.”

All four men simultaneously sigh in relief, afraid to hear her say another name.

“Good,” Zayne nods, checking her vitals with steadier hands now. “Can you tell us the last thing you remember?”

She blinks slowly, her brow furrowing. “I was… with Sylus. Caleb was doing his tests…”

She winces and squeezes her eyes shut. “Everything after is like glass shards in my head. Slicing.”

“That’s enough,” Zayne murmurs, pressing a cool hand to her forehead.

Xavier brushes her knuckles. “We’ve got you. Just rest.”

The door bursts open. 

“Xavier,” Jeremiah pants, holding up a tablet. He sees Elly. Pauses. “What happened?”

“We’re still figuring it out,” Xavier replies.

“Jeremiah?” Elly’s voice is faint but warm.

“Yes?” He moves into her line of sight, surprised, one eye on Xavier.

“Wow,” she murmurs. “I never thought I would get to meet you.”

“Hi. It’s… an honor.”

“Thanks for watching out for Queen MC.” Her smile turns into a wince. “Her devoted left-hand man.”

“Xavier said you knew about other timelines,” he says, stunned.

“What did you need to show me?” Xavier interrupts.

Jeremiah’s face hardens. “Missing persons alert out of Linkon. You and Elly. Bulletin went out this morning.”

Xavier snatches the tablet.

Eliwyn. His face. Caught in grainy footage from months ago.

“The association was supposed to lock this down,” he growls.

Jeremiah hesitates. “That’s not all. Ballroom’s down again.”

“Another breaker?” Zayne asks.

“Last one. Backup’s fried.”

Eyes narrowing, Sylus looks up

“What happened to the one I scheduled?”

“They never showed and aren’t answering their number.”

Sylus exhales, dragging a hand through his hair. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Thanks,” Jeremiah says. “If we lose one more surge, the manor goes dark.”

We’ll improvise,” Xavier mutters.

He looks back at Elly. Pale. Still. Breathing.

Still here.

“Sylus,” he says softly, “can you stay with her while I help Jeremiah?”

Sylus nods. “I’ll get that electrician too.”

Xavier bends, touching her arm. “Rest. Let your body catch up.”

Her lips lift in a faint smile. “Don’t be long.”

***

The ballroom smells like ozone and scorched wire.

Xavier crouches beside a floor panel, prying it open while Jeremiah mutters diagnostics into his comm just behind him. Across the far wall, integrated monitor readouts flicker weakly—the local Micro Resonance Mapping Array, mRMA,  still patched halfway into the SonoSphere, along with a half-dozen other medical devices. All of it dormant now, save for the anxious whir of cooling fans.

The room feels like it’s holding its breath.

“Third breaker’s toast,” Jeremiah says, frowning at his tablet. “Grid’s fused at the capacitor. Surge came right through the mainline and melted the neutral.”

“Because of the mRMA?”

“Because the SonoSphere and the mRMA were running in parallel,” Jeremiah corrects. “Separately? No problem. Together? Too many microfrequency shifts trying to stabilize in real time.”

Xavier exhales, dragging a hand through his hair. “Any chance we can split them across different breakers?”

“Not unless we want half the manor to blackout every time someone sneezes.”

Xavier leans back on his heels, eyeing the junction boxes they'd spliced into the ballroom's secondary grid. The circuits had been reinforced—but this manor was built for noble galas, not layered resonance mapping, continuous cardiac telemetry, and live Evol interference scans.

“This place was designed to host orchestras and wine tastings,” he mutters, “not field-test an interdimensional lifesaving operation.”

Jeremiah barks a tired laugh. “And yet here we are.”

A long pause.

“What if we drop the SonoSphere to low power,” Xavier says, rising, “and cycle it in ten-second intervals during mRMA captures?”

Jeremiah raises a brow. “You’d risk data loss.”

“Not if we time the pulses right. I can write a resonance drift prediction model, and have the mRMA anticipate the next reading. Sync SonoSphere bursts to peak phase transitions.”

Jeremiah whistles under his breath. “That… might work. You’ll need Sylus to set the tempo curves.”

“I’ll write the script. He can calibrate it.”

Jeremiah nods. “Still need a new breaker to bring the chamber back online.”

Xavier glances toward the scorched housing above the ballroom doors. “Sylus said he’d reach out to one of his under-the-table contacts.”

“You think anyone’ll take the job?”

“If they don’t know who it’s for, maybe. Or if they know exactly who it’s for. Hard to say.”

They exchange a grim look.

No one outside this manor can know what’s happening. No one outside should.

Xavier turns back to the quiet machinery, throat tightening. They came so close to losing her again.

He swallows hard, pushing it down.

With more time—real time—he could redesign the mRMA from the ground up. The framework was always a downscaled mirror of the GRMA, just recalibrated to read internal frequencies instead of galactic ones. With the right filters, the same phase-mapping principles could operate at a fraction of the energy cost. Cleaner signal, tighter feedback loop. If he ever had the time to optimize it.

If he ever got more time.

He opens his tablet. Code flows as his fingers begin drafting the predictive model. If it keeps her alive, he’ll run this lab on copper wire and moonlight.

“I’ll start the algorithm,” he says. “Let’s reroute backup power to keep the data cores stable. If this works, we can restart testing by morning.”

Jeremiah squints. “You running on fumes?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Jeremiah tilts his head, studying him. “She’s worth it, huh?”

Xavier doesn’t answer right away. Just keeps typing.

Then, softer than before, without looking up.

“Yeah,” he says. “She is.”

***

The hum of the backup system is steady now, faint, but consistent.

Xavier exhales as the mRMA’s low-frequency lattice kicks in. On the screen behind him, overlapping heart telemetry, Evol mapping nodes, and baseline resonance drift metrics bloom back to life. Not full power. But stable. Stable enough to run tests without blowing another circuit.

It’ll have to be.

“I’ll take patchy over nothing,” Jeremiah mutters, smoothing a palm down the housing panel they jerry-rigged three hours ago.

A knock echoes from the far end of the ballroom doors. Sharp, deliberate.

Jeremiah tenses. “You expecting someone?”

“Sylus.”

The doors swing open. Sylus steps inside, dusted in faint moisture. Behind him walks a tall woman with short copper curls and eyes like arc welds.

“An electrician finally agreed,” Sylus says.

“Certified electrical systems consultant,” she corrects, tone flat. Her gaze sweeps the room, stopping on the mRMA’s glowing interface. “Sorry for the delay. Half of Linkon’s fried. This... isn’t residential.”

“No,” Xavier replies. “It’s not.”

The woman nods once. “I was told the job required discretion.”

Sylus folds his arms. “It still does.”

“You're the one from Blackstrand?” Jeremiah asks.

The woman nods. “Call me Leta. I’ve worked in off-grid labs before. Civilian, Fleet, medical. If you’re hiding this from someone, I don’t need to know who.”

She stops in front of the main circuit board, her eyes narrowing at the scorched housing.

She kneels in front of the main circuit board, eyes narrowing. “Your transformer’s rated for eight kilowatts. This is pulling fifteen.”

“We noticed,” Jeremiah says blandly.

She arches a brow. “You’re lucky it only blew the breaker. If it had spiked higher, you could’ve melted the whole wall.”

Xavier suppresses a groan. “Can you fix it or not?”

Leta smirks. “I didn’t come this far to tell you to unplug it.” She unrolls a worn toolkit. “Give me an hour. Two if you want it safe.”

Sylus steps aside with Xavier. “She was the only one who answered. Didn’t ask too many questions when I said the job was military-adjacent and hostile to surveillance.”

“Military-adjacent?”

“I figured ‘multi-dimensional resonance stabilizer’ might scare her off.”

Xavier huffs under his breath. “Blackstrand’s known for discretion. Assuming she doesn’t bolt.”

“If she bolts,” Sylus’s expression darkens, “she forgets.”

Xavier doesn’t ask what that means.

Jeremiah returns from the opposite panel. “We’ll be lucky if the place holds out another 48 hours.”

“Then we’ve got 48 hours,” Xavier replies. “Run what we can until then.”

Sylus nods, glancing back toward Leta. “I’ll have her sweep the secondary grids too. We can’t risk another burnout.”

“We still need full scans on Sylus, Caleb, and Rafayel,” Xavier adds, pulling up the test roster. “Then Elly. Slowly. One-on-one resonance exposure only.”

He doesn’t say what they all know: they’re running out of time to save her heart.

Behind him, the mRMA pulses softly. Mapping resonance ghosts in real time. The screen flickers steady.

Xavier stares at it, jaw tight.

It’s working, but it’s overdesigned. If he had more time, he could streamline the power profile. The GRMA worked on a galactic scale with cleaner outputs—this is trying to do the same on a human scale. Too much hardware. Too much heat. Something to optimize... if he ever gets more time.

“I’ll head back to Elly,” Sylus says, already moving. “MRI should be finishing soon.”

Xavier nods but doesn’t look up. Leta is crouched at the panel, arms steady, hands deft.

“Ground’s a mess,” she mutters. “You’re lucky the arc didn’t run up the spine. Would’ve lit this room like a bonfire.”

“She’s cheerful,” Jeremiah murmurs.

Leta keeps working. “You retrofitted hospital-grade systems with planetary diagnostics and resonance harmonics. Of course, your load’s unstable.”

“No argument,” Xavier says.

She slides a copper-wrapped module into the panel. “This’ll help mitigate cross-frequency reverb. Temporary, but better than praying.”

Then she installs it—tucked behind a rail, deep in the panel. Too deep.

“Why anchor it there?” Xavier asks.

There’s the slightest pause.

“Your grounds are mostly fried,” she says. “That line’s the cleanest path left.”

It tracks. Smart, even. But her tone is a beat too smooth.

She glances up and offers a quick, easy smile. “Careful hands. Everything’s brittle. One wrong touch, I fry your whole interface.”

She finishes the install, reseals the panel, and reboots. The hum rises—clean, stable. No flicker. No pulse echo.

Jeremiah whistles. “Clean reboot.”

Xavier watches the data scroll across the central readout. No red. No spike. The system holds.

“Looks like you’ve earned your pay,” he says.

Leta smirks, wiping her hands. “Always do.”

***

Elly

The door to the radiology room clicks open with a quiet hiss.

Zayne steps inside, tablet in hand, his eyes scanning something just out of her view. He doesn’t speak right away, probably reading her MRI results already. That, or organizing another avalanche of recommendations she’s not sure she’s ready for.

The soft footsteps follow a beat later.

Sylus.

He doesn’t say anything either, but his gaze sweeps over her, sharp and assessing, then warm and unmistakably relieved.

Without a word, he walks straight up to the MRI table.

“Sylus—” she starts, but he’s already moving. Gently, deliberately, he slips one arm beneath her knees and the other around her shoulders and lifts her like she weighs nothing at all.

“Is this really necessary?” she teases softly, resting her cheek against his chest. “First time you haven’t floated me out with your Evol. Looking for an excuse to work out?”

His hold tightens just slightly, his voice low and rough at the edges. “Maybe I needed to hold you in my arms to prove that you're still with me.”

The words and quiet sincerity steal her breath more effectively than any seizure or anxiety attack.

Her arms slide around his neck before she realizes. She buries her face in the curve of his shoulder and breathes him in, steady and real. She doesn’t want to let go.

He carries her into the main clinic area. The hospital bed drifts behind them on a wisp of his Evol. When he sets her down and adjusts the pillows, Elly notices something that makes her breath catch. The room is spotless.

Not just tidied. Reset. The shattered glass is gone, chairs realigned, cushions straightened. Someone took the time to erase every trace of the chaos she’d caused.

Her gaze drifts to the loveseat. Next to it sits the brown paper bag from Destiny Café that had gotten upended in her Evol storm. Familiar and harmless. 

She flinches anyway. While her mind may not remember, some part of her body does.

Sylus tracks her gaze instantly. “It’s empty,” he says gently. “The Aether Core’s secured. The rest of her things have been moved to containment. Locked down tight.”

She nods slowly. Exhales.

Across the room, Rafayel leans against the counter, arms crossed. His expression is unreadable, but his gaze never leaves her. There’s a rigid stillness in him that hums like a drawn bow.

She doesn’t blame him. 

If the roles were reversed…

No, she doesn’t want to think about that.

Caleb sits nearby, in the same spot he’s been since the scans started. His silence is steady, almost eerie. But his eyes never waver. Watching her. Like he’s waiting for something. Or guarding it.  

She isn’t sure what he remembers. 

She’s less sure if the protectiveness in him is meant for her, or the ghost of Eliwyn. 

Zayne finally looks up from the monitors. He crosses the room, eyes still on the tablet, jaw tight.

“Luckily, the seizure didn’t cause lasting damage,” he says. “Your heart and lungs are stable. No regression from yesterday’s baseline. You’ll need to take it easy for a few days. No excitement, no strenuous activity.”

Relief crashes through her, dizzy and sharp. She hadn’t realized how tightly she’d been gripping the sheets until Sylus gently pries her fingers loose and folds his hand over hers. Their gazes meet and his softens. The relief in them is palpable. 

Not worse. Not better, but not worse.

Zayne doesn’t look up. His stylus taps lightly against the screen, precise and rhythmic. His voice, when it comes again, is low and even. Edged with something she can’t quite name. 

“There is one change. Your Evol output has dropped slightly from the last scan.”

Her brows knit. “Is that…bad?”

“Not necessarily. We don’t know enough about what the Aether core did. Or if it’s still connected to you. The drop might be your body’s defense kicking in. Shutting down non-essentials to preserve what matters."

“Is she in danger?” Sylus asks before she can.

Zayne hesitates, just for a second. “Not yet. If anything, the reduction might help in the short term. Less output means less strain on her heart. Might buy us more time.”

Elly nods, absorbing that. She hopes he’s right.

Zayne taps a few more notes into the tablet. “How are you feeling, otherwise?

“I’ve got a headache,” she murmurs. “And there’s still… static. Pressure behind my eyes when I try to remember what happened.”

“Then don’t,” Caleb says softly, and for the first time, his voice cracks. “You don’t have to force it. You’re okay. That’s what matters.”

“You scared the hell out of me.” His voice is quieter now. Thicker. Frayed.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, wishing she remembered something, anything, to justify how pale, haunted, he looks.

Zayne’s glances at the wall monitor. 12:43 PM blinks faintly in the dim lighting.

"It’s past noon," he mutters, more to himself than anyone else. Then, more sharply: “You haven’t eaten. I’ll get you a nutritional shake. Vanilla. Easiest on the stomach.”

The thought of food stirs a flicker of nausea, and she starts to open her mouth, only for Zayne to shoot her a clinical look that stops her flat.

Not cold.

Just final.

"I’ll be right back," he says, already halfway through the door.

Silence follows. Not heavy, just full.

She hears the faint hum of machines, the soft creak of leather as Caleb shifts. His gaze still on her.

Watching. Weighing.

Not that I mind.

Then Sylus speaks.

"You should all go grab something from the kitchens while she rests. I’ll stay."

"No," Caleb says, immediate and unblinking.

"I’m not hungry," Rafayel mutters from the shadowed side of the room. His eyes still gleam, bright under his lashes, trained on her like searchlights.

Xavier doesn’t speak. He’s perched on the oveseat’s armrest, posture deceptively casual, but his eyes track her every breath.

Sylus lets out a breath and rubs a palm over his jaw. “Stubborn. All of you.”

Elly brushes her fingers along the edge of the blanket. The texture grounds her more than it should.

They’re still here.

Watching. Anchoring her.

Refusing to leave.

Sylus stands and pulls out his phone, boots tapping softly across the tile. “Fine. I’ll order in. Maybe that’ll guilt the rest of you into eating."

He pauses and raises his voice toward the hallway. "Hey! What’s safe for Elly to eat right now?"

Zayne’s voice floats back, slightly muffled. "Light protein. Complex carbs. Low sodium. No caffeine. Nothing spicy."

Sylus nods. "Got it." Then he turns toward her. "Anything sound good? Or should I surprise you?"

She offers a faint smile, tongue dry. "Surprise me. Just… no liver. Or beets, please."

A low chuckle escapes him, warm and quiet. He types into his phone.

The silence that follows isn’t tense anymore. It settles around her like a blanket.

She closes her eyes and drifts, not quite asleep. Not fully awake. Hovering somewhere between.

Some part of me still feels suspended. Like, I haven’t fully landed yet.

She hears Xavier and Sylus quietly discussing the ballroom’s power grid. Something about rerouting the frequency flow. One of them mentions "predictive mapping."

It slips through her like fog. Comforting, somehow.

And then—

The scent of warm food hits the air.

Savory. Slightly sweet. A hint of spice clings to it, like someone dared to disobey Zayne’s orders just enough to make her smile.

Rafayel , she thinks distantly. Of course .

Porcelain plates clink against the coffee station counter. Proper plates, because, of course, Sylus stocked them.

Of course they stayed.

Caleb lounges a little too casually in the chair near her bed, tossing an olive in the air and catching it with a grin. 

Sylus eyes him with a look that’s equal parts caution and mild exasperation. “Did you wash your hands?”

Caleb smirks, popping a grape. “I don’t remember. I also don’t remember not  washing them. So it balances out.”

Rafayel snorts, reaching over to steal one. “If you give me amnesia germs, I’m setting your bed on fire.”

“It’s a hospital bed.”

“Exactly.”

They’re trying. Even Rafayel, though Elly doesn’t miss the way his gaze keeps flicking toward Caleb, eyes narrowed, like he’s watching for something he can’t quite name.

Zayne, standing stiffly at the medical console, doesn’t speak. He hasn’t since giving her the updated chart. Not since telling her she needed rest. Not since he started avoiding her eyes.

Elly pushes her fork through a piece of roasted squash, but doesn’t lift it.

Something’s off. 

She feels it in the pauses between jokes, the way Sylus keeps his fingers on her pulse despite the monitor. In how Xavier’s hand lingers when brushing crumbs from her sleeve. In how Zayne’s jaw tightens every time she speaks, though he never responds.

They’re all holding something back. All of them.

She looks around. “Okay, what did I miss?”

Caleb glances up from his plate, silent. Xavier studies the monitor.

Sylus clears his throat. “Just a… misunderstanding,” he says. “Don’t worry about it right now. You need rest.”

But something flickers behind her eyes. 

A memory, sharp and cold.

Zayne’s Evol spiraling. Her voice raised.

“Did we fight?” she asks, watching him. “Zayne, I… I remember yelling. Just a flash.”

Zayne finally turns. “It’s not important.”

His voice is quiet. Even. Too even.

“Then look at me and say that.”

He doesn’t.

Heat rises to her neck. Her pulse jumps, and not from exertion or food. From an urgency clawing it’s way up her spine.

“I have a right to know.”

“Elly, we can—” Sylus begins, but she’s already closing her eyes, bracing against the pain as she digs through the fog of memory.

A noise escapes her throat, but she keeps pushing.

A flicker.

Zayne, furious. Cold. Ice on her skin.

You don’t get to make that choice for me .

Her own voice, cracked with anger.

You already made the same choice. In another life. You didn’t tell me, either.

His face… wrecked, guilt-stricken.

Frost blooming like a spiderweb across the floor. 

Pain stabs through her skull. She gasps.

Zayne is suddenly at her side, clipping the pulse oximeter back on. “Stop trying to remember,” he says, voice cracking under the chill. “It’s not worth the cost.”

“You were angry,” she whispers.

“I’m still  angry.”

Their eyes meet.

And that hurts more than the pain. Because what she sees isn’t distance. It’s devastation

Her breath catches.

Not anger at  her. Anger at himself.

It clicks all at once. The trembling in his hands on the stabilizer. The deliberate way he’s avoided her eyes. The way his Evol lost control, sharp and frigid, trying to cage something too big to name.

If he hadn’t lost control…

If she hadn’t tried to reach…

If she hadn’t collapsed…

She would’ve never touched the Aether Core. 

And he wouldn’t have almost lost her.

Again.

Her chest aches. Not from the seizure, not from her heart. From that look.

“You’re blaming yourself,” she whispers.

Zayne flinches. His fingers hesitate, then resume checking her vitals like the steady rhythm will absolve him.

“I lost control. I’m the reason you collapsed. The Core activated because of me. And I wasn’t fast enough to stop it.”

“No.” She reaches up, fingers brushing his jaw. His skin is cool, residual Evol bleed maybe, but he doesn’t pull away. 

“You didn’t ask to be attacked. You didn’t ask for help. I  made a choice. I reached for you. Because I couldn’t stand watching you hurt like that.”

“You almost died.”

“But, I didn’t.”

His gaze lifts. The wall breaks.

“I can’t…” he swallows hard. “Elly, I can’t  watch that happen again. You don’t get to burn yourself out trying to keep me from breaking.”

“Then stop trying to carry all of this alone.”

Silence. Heavy, electric. Around them, conversation quiets. Dishes pause mid-motion. Even Rafayel stills. Xavier doesn’t speak, but his gaze is unreadable over the edge of the monitor.

Zayne closes his eyes. Just for a moment. Then exhales. The first honest breath he’s taken since she collapsed.

“I don’t know how to protect you,” he admits. “Not when you keep risking yourself for us.”

“Then let’s figure it out. Together. Before one of us really does disappear.”

He grips her hand hard. Vulnerability bleeding through the touch.

Elly draws a breath. Steadying.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to say,” she murmurs, voice low, but it carries.

Zayne stills. His posture shifts, like he’s bracing.

“We have something we’ve never had before. In any timeline.”

Her eyes sweep the room.

“Each other.”

Every head turns.

No one speaks.

“I don’t know how or why this timeline is different,” she says. “Maybe it’s because the original MC wasn’t supposed to survive. Maybe that opened the door. For Eliwyn, for me, for you . All of you.”

She grips Zayne’s hand tighter. “That has to mean  something.”

The air pulses with tension.

“I don’t know how to untangle what’s coming. But we can’t fight it the way we did before. Every version I’ve read, every myth, every cycle, we lost. But we weren’t all together .”

Sylus leans forward slowly, watching her with an intensity that feels like gravity itself.

“So we use that,” she says. “We use  this. You have each other. You have me. A version that was never meant to meet you. That makes us unpredictable. It makes us strong in ways nothing else can.”

Her gaze moves to each of them. Caleb, jaw tense, brows furrowed. Xavier is inscrutable as usual. Rafayel is solemn and still. But they are thinking.

“I don’t want to fight fate the way MC did,” she breathes. “I want to twist it. Break it. Make it rewrite itself. Because I’m not willing to lose any of you.”

Silence. Think.

Then Rafayel nods once, slow and grave.

Xavier exhales. “That’s either brilliant or suicidal.”

Sylus cracks a faint smile. “With us? It could go either way.”

Zayne lets go of her hand. Not to retreat, but to rest his palm against her cheek. His hand is warm now, the frost is gone. 

“We’re not losing you either, Elly,” he says, “Not again.”

And in that moment, something shifts. The silence becomes a pact.

Not spoken. But understood.

***

The last few bites of food go cold on her plate. No one moves.

Eventually, Zayne sets down the tablet, fingers flexing once before he stands. His gaze lands on her, softened now, his earlier distance gone.

“Sweetheart,” he says gently, and the word coils warm in her chest. “You should rest. We’ve cleared several rooms nearby. The monitors will alert me if anything changes.”

He brushes her hair back from her face, fingertips lingering before he leans down and presses a kiss to her temple. “I’ll be in the ballroom finishing the setup. I won’t be far.”

Elly nods, not trusting herself to speak.

Sylus rises and stretches. “My room’s bigger,” he offers. “And it already has half of your stuff in it. It’ll fit all of us.”

“Sounds like a slumber party,” Caleb mutters, pushing to his feet and stretching like a cat. “Minus the glitter and terrifying face masks.”

“Speak for yourself,” Xavier replies without looking up. “I brought mine.”

Elly laughs. It’s tired, but real. Sylus helps her to her feet. Her legs are shaky, the echo of the seizure still clinging to her bones. 

He presses something into her hand, and her brow furrows.

A sleek black phone.

“I was working on it before the...storm,” he says quietly. “It’s completely secure. We can look at cases and screen covers together later.”

“Thank you.” She flashes him a tired but real smile. Then her eyes searched for the reason she’d been requesting a phone.

“Rafayel?” she asks softly.

His eyes lift immediately, but he doesn’t move. There’s distance in his posture, like part of him is still missing.

“If you don’t want to come, I understand,” she says. “But… I’ve missed you. The last couple of days.” Her voice falters.

A pause.

“If you want me there,” he says, rising smoothly to his feet, “I’ll be there.”

She nods, blinking fast. “I do.”

Something eases in his expression. Just enough to steady her.

They move as a group through the halls. Sylus’s room is wide and warm. The dark red and black bring a comfort she doesn’t anticipate. The bed is large, and the lighting is warm and golden.