Kie blinked twice, then looked again, unable to believe what he had just heard. He stared hard into Tee’s pale, defiant eyes, as though staring long enough might make sense of the words themselves.

  He was already pressing the button on his telecom, preparing to teleport away, yet he found himself rooted in place, annoyed at the stubborn immobility of his body. Usually, orders were absolute—clear, unquestionable. Yet there he was, facing the one person who had the audacity to defy them openly. And for some reason, though every rational part of him screamed for reprimand, he couldn’t quite summon enough anger to do so.

  “This mission,” he began, voice low and cold, void of the heat of emotion, “was to eliminate Varrak. You completely neglected orders. Those MG offs—they were not our concern.”

  Tee’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t retreat. One step forward brought her dangerously close to him, the kind of proximity that felt like a challenge. “Eliminating that monster was none of our concern either,” she said, voice steady, but with an undertone that threatened to break through. “Why kill one of the monsters and let the rest run free? It’s obvious what they were doing was illegal!” She moved one foot further forward and stamped the other down with a firmness that echoed like judgment. “They deserve to die for their crimes. And who knows what else!”

  Kie’s jaw tightened, the sight of her moving with such resolve both infuriating and unsettling. He looked away, forcing his gaze onto the distant horizon, and his voice dropped lower, deliberately devoid of sentiment. “Just because something is illegal doesn’t mean you have the right to do anything about it.”

  Tee froze. The words cut through her chest like a serrated knife, sharper than any blade she had held that day. For a heartbeat, all her courage and anger faltered under the weight of realization. He knew.

  He knew about the abductees, knew they were Xeno-victims. The knowledge left her dumbstruck. How did he find out? Was it intuition, training, or some buried secret he had uncovered in the shadows of Mid-Guard intelligence?

  She swallowed hard, forcing herself to remain calm, to mask the tremor of guilt, fear, and something darker simmering beneath. She had to convince him—needed him to believe her fury was purely for their crimes, for their blatant disregard of law, not for their connections with Xeno-victims.

  The last thing she could afford was suspicion—especially from Kie. Even if she were one herself, even if some buried fragment of her humanity aligned with the victims, it could never surface. Not there, not ever.

  Kie, for his part, had long understood the dark reality of Xeno-victims. Some were covert within the Mid-Guard, hiding in plain sight. Some, tragically, handed themselves over rather than endure what they believed would be certain suicide. It was a sad, bitter truth, but one he accepted as fact, even if he sometimes felt the weight of its unfairness.

  Tee’s fists clenched at her sides. The thought confirmed her worst fears. Kie wasn’t just a Xenogenist, a believer in order and discipline. He considered Xeno-victims less than human, a lower life form whose existence could be eradicated without moral hesitation. That belief alone should have terrified her. She squeezed her fists tighter, willing herself to control the rising storm in her chest, to regulate her pulse, to appear unaffected.

  Miko, standing a step behind Tee, looked confused. “I don’t understand why you’re so upset about letting the MG offs escape,” she said, voice small but insistent. “Mid-Guard officials are protectors. They’re certified by law. They’re heroes! They just got to that Xenosapian incident before we did but couldn’t stop it, nor Varrak.”

  Both Tee and Kie turned toward her, disbelief etched onto their faces. The words weren’t just naive—they were dangerous. They revealed a misunderstanding so profound that Tee had to fight the urge to shout at her friend.

  How could she be so blind? The MG offs weren’t protectors in that instance—they were exploiting global curfew to mask their illegal operations. Tee’s mind flicked to the little boy. Where was he? Concern for his safety melted her anger away momentarily, but the thought of Kie’s disapproval returned her focus to reality.

  “What about the abductees?” Tee asked, her voice firmer now, tinged with moral urgency. “We can’t just leave them out here. It’s past global curfew. We need to get them to a shelter.”

  Miko nodded in agreement, the first spark of understanding in her eyes. Tee felt a flicker of warmth—her friend could see the truth, even if she didn’t fully understand it yet.

  Kie’s gaze dropped toward the clear concrete where Varrak’s body should have been, sighing through his teeth. “Tee Char, this mission was to eliminate Varrak.”

  Tee stepped closer, her voice rising with stubborn insistence. “But—”

  “Negative!” Kie interrupted sharply, cutting her off mid-word. “We are leaving now. Our business here is done.”

  Tee drew a slow, controlled breath, steadying the anger that had begun to swell again. “Then go. Leave.”

  Kie’s hand dropped the telecom at his side, a faint display of disbelief in his movements. “Darling, have you forgotten that we can’t teleport without you? Saeda isn’t here, and the group teleportation is already set to four—”

  He paused as Tee, with deliberate motion, yanked off her telecom and flung it toward him. Reflexively, he caught it before it struck his face.

  Tee turned her back, unable to bear the sight of him any longer. “Now you can teleport. I’ll get the abductees to safety on my own.” Without another word, she strode off, heading toward the little boy.

  Kie’s frustration cut a sharp edge. “Hey! Where are you going?”

  “Oh, yes,” Miko interjected quickly, remembering the child. “There’s someone we can’t leave behind.” She sprinted after Tee, matching her pace effortlessly.

  Kie and Zod had no choice but to follow. When Tee began whistling—a signal, a lifeline—the two young men exchanged looks that mirrored silent disbelief. She had gone mad, or perhaps she had finally embraced a courage bordering on recklessness.

  The little boy, as if summoned by the sound, darted from his hiding spot and ran toward her. Zod couldn’t suppress a soft “Aw,” his voice a quiet echo of nostalgia. The boy reminded him of his younger brother, whom he hadn’t seen in months, whose absence had left a quiet ache in his chest.

  Tee stooped, brushing the dirt and grime from the boy’s clothing with gentle precision. “Don’t worry,” she murmured. “I’ll get you somewhere safe. Hop onto my back.”

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  The boy wrapped his small arms tightly around her shoulders. She rose, adjusting her stance under his weight. “You alright up there?” she asked, voice soft but firm. He said nothing, only clinging tighter, as though the act of holding on was the only thing that kept him tethered to safety.

  “Alright. Let’s go find the others,” she said, her mind already calculating the safest route. She needed a neighborhood map, the kind usually posted near street signs, to locate the nearest shelter. But first, she needed to search for any other abductees who might be hiding nearby.

  “Tee, where are the others? I want to help,” Miko asked, her speed already pulsing with readiness.

  Tee turned to her, the hint of hope and relief shining through her fatigue. With Miko’s speed, she wouldn’t have to navigate the surroundings with the boy on her back—an immense tactical advantage.

  Kie’s expression remained unreadable as the boy emerged fully into view. He was unsure if his feelings were warmed by Tee’s compassion or chilled by her open defiance. That child, innocent and small, could mutate into a Xenosapian at any moment, a fact Kie had no intention of revealing. Instead, he summoned a sword, positioning it as both protection and silent threat, his eyes locked on the boy as if he were a target needing constant observation.

  Tee, relying on practical experience and intuition, scanned the streets with her foreseeing vision. Her search proved fruitful—the group of trooper abductees had stuck together, walking with hesitant precision through the shadows, likely heading toward the shelter themselves. Miko zipped toward them, a streak of light, making her position known for coordination.

  “Where exactly is this shelter?” Zod asked, voice tinged with concern. “Which district are we in? It could be miles away.”

  Tee gave a slow sigh, steadying herself. “I’ll find one. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Found them!” Miko’s voice rang through their comms. She had already reached the group, providing coordinates for faster navigation.

  “Wait—wasn’t there a shirtless man? Is he with the abductees too?”

  “No,” Tee replied firmly, though her eyes continued to sweep the surrounding streets.

  As they made their way toward Miko’s location, Tee kept switching her vision back and forth, scanning for any trace of the man. Each time she came close to bumping into something, the little boy tugged at her shirt to steer her clear.

  Everywhere they passed was deserted—global curfew had emptied the streets. The silence pressed in like a blanket, broken only by their footsteps and the distant hum of city machinery powering down. Tee sighed in disappointment when her search turned up nothing. She told herself the man had already made it to a shelter, a small comfort to keep her frustration at bay.

  When they finally reached Miko, she was walking alongside a group of troopers. They were chatting idly, but all turned to look back when Zod called out.

  “Hey! Wait up!”

  As Tee glanced toward them, her eyes caught on something—half-hidden but unmistakable—a Xeno-victim crest poking from one trooper’s pocket. Her pulse quickened. They must’ve removed their crests at the MG officials’ request to avoid suspicion. But with her team nearby, they couldn’t put them back on without raising questions about why they’d taken them off in the first place.

  Then Tee realized something else. The little boy on her back still had his crest. It wasn’t immediately obvious. The cloth around his neck was so smeared with candy that she’d mistaken it for a bib. The sugary mess had coated the crest’s symbol completely. Tee’s jaw tightened. Whoever was responsible for that nastiness deserved to die.

  She looked up and saw Miko keeping to the rear of the group, a few deliberate steps behind the others. It wasn’t fear of the troopers—Tee could tell. It was hesitation, the kind that came from not wanting to get too close to the abductees. Or rather, too close to the Xeno-victims. Classic scorn disguised as caution.

  “How’s your hair so white?” someone suddenly asked, pulling Tee from her thoughts.

  It was one of the troopers. She turned her head slightly and found all of them watching her.

  “It’s because she’s an evolved talking Alpackha,” Zod said with such a dead-serious face that they actually believed him.

  “An evolved talking Alpackha, huh?” one trooper said, rubbing his chin as though that made perfect sense. “You don’t see one of those every day.”

  Another trooper piped up, “Why are you guys out here anyway?”

  Tee didn’t even blink. “We’re Priman spies sent to investigate illegal activity,” she said smoothly.

  Both Miko and Zod almost stopped walking. That was bold—even for Tee. Kie didn’t react at all. He hadn’t been paying attention to the conversation from the start.

  Tee turned the question back at them. “And what about you? Why are you guys out here?”

  “We got carried away and didn’t realize how late it was,” one trooper said quickly.

  Too quickly. Tee immediately knew it was a lie. Every voice-com came preprogrammed with curfew alerts—there was no way they could have just ‘lost track of time.’ But she didn’t call them out. Not all lies were harmful, and some truths were better left unspoken.

  Another trooper laughed awkwardly, playing along. “Yeah, that’s what happened.”

  One of the men drifted too close to Miko, eyeing her up and down. When his shoulder brushed hers, she looked at him with a tight smile. “Sorry,” he said quickly. “It’s just—you guys look pretty young to be Priman spies.”

  Miko let out a nervous laugh. She was terrible at lying and didn’t want to mess up Tee’s bluff. “Thank you,” she said with a strained smile. “I eat lots of veggies to stay this young.”

  The trooper blinked, then burst out laughing. What had started as a pickup line had backfired on him completely. The rest of the group chuckled, easing some of the tension.

  Kie, meanwhile, kept his distance. He didn’t say a word to the Xeno-victims, but his sharp eyes never left them. To him, they were walking explosives—ticking time bombs waiting to go off. He couldn’t believe how casual Tee and the others were being.

  Still, escorting them to the shelter wasn’t a total waste. Watching Tee carry the boy on her back stirred something unexpected in him. She was good with kids, patient even under pressure. That, to him, was another sign—another reason she might just be his future soulmate. He wanted a big family one day, and Tee fit the picture in his mind. He smiled faintly at the thought.

  Tee, on the other hand, dreaded getting too close to the shelter. The area was crawling with government tools, both outside and deep below the surface. To reach the entrance, they’d have to pass right through them. The entrance itself was heavily fortified, sealed with massive metal doors—oversized versions of Xenosapian-proof barriers controlled entirely by automated systems.

  The group stopped, crouching in the shadow of nearby buildings. Everyone except Miko knew better than to walk openly into the sight of the MG officers. Being out past curfew was reason enough to get interrogated, maybe worse. Best to stay unseen.

  Tee’s main worry, though, was the boy. She hoped the officers wouldn’t be too harsh on him. His crest wasn’t obvious under the candy stains, so maybe they’d overlook it. Still, she knew how these things went—most MG officers were Xenogenists, and when Xeno-victims got in trouble, they faced double the punishment.

  The troopers switched on the lights from their voice-coms, a standard signal to let the MG officers know humans were approaching—not Xenosapians. A gesture of safety, but it made Tee tense anyway.

  “We’re leaving now,” Kie said firmly, before Tee could even check to see if the group made it through the entrance safely.

  As she followed his lead, her thoughts tangled. How had Kie known the abductees were Xeno-victims in the first place? That detail hadn’t been public. She found herself thinking back to a conversation he had with Saeda.

  Kie was an A-level ranked trooper and had lived at a Mid-Guard for as long as he could remember. But something about that story never sat right with Tee. Elder Caledor had told them they were all the same age—each of them just turning nineteen. You didn’t even earn a rank until your second year in Mid-Guard.

  The math didn’t add up.

  As they walked away from the shelter, the cold air gnawed at Tee’s skin, but her mind burned with questions—questions that, for now, had no answers.