At the medical chamber of the underground facilities, Zen lay still on the patient’s bed as a probe slowly scanned his body, the hum of the machine the only sound filling the room.

  From outside the room, Commander Stelle and Instructor Sayuri watched through the observation window.

  “The investigation has started,” Stelle said, her voice low.

  “The reports will confirm whether there’s corruption in the system like we suspect.”

  Sayuri stood in silence for another moment, arms crossed, watching Zen. Her focus shifted to the faint reflection of herself on the glass.

  Her eyes narrowed just a little. “Why wasn’t I told about all this?”

  Stelle exhaled sharply. “Because I didn’t want to burden you more.”

  “But whether I want to carry it is my choice,” Sayuri argued.

  “And whether I want to tell you is my choice,” Stelle replied without hesitation.

  “You took on the responsibility of managing the entire administration department,” she said.

  “That’s already an unhealthy amount of work to do alone.”

  Stelle turned to leave. “What made you think I would be so unprofessional as to pressure you further?”

  Without waiting for an answer, she walked away.

  Sayuri stood there in silence, her eyes never leaving Zen.

  Madoka walked up from behind and stopped beside her, but she didn’t say anything.

  Her gaze followed Sayuri’s through the glass, inside the room, where the probe finished scanning.

  Zen slowly got off the bed—a bit too slowly, his right hand anchoring him against the edge.

  The doctor sorted the scan reports and handed them to him. His hand moved slowly and carefully as he accepted the file.

  He exited the chamber, the door swinging closed behind him. He paused for a second, expecting what was about to come.

  Sayuri didn’t say anything immediately.

  “How’s your arm?” she finally asked, her voice cold.

  “It’s… fine now,” Zen replied, his voice noticeably weak even though he tried to sound normal.

  He turned to leave. His body didn’t want to.

  “I’m not done talking, you know,” Sayuri said.

  He stopped, but didn’t turn around. Nor did Sayuri look at him.

  “Zen… You’re grounded,” she said. “You’re not allowed to leave the academy perimeters and will only attend classes and training sessions.”

  His right hand, carrying the report, felt like clenching into a fist. But he didn’t let it.

  “Understood,” he replied, and walked away as soon as he finished speaking, his pace slower than usual.

  Madoka watched him go. Her eyes shifted to the ground below, her head low.

  “I’m sorry. I couldn’t prevent this from happening.”

  “It wasn’t your fault,” Sayuri reassured her.

  “Though I wish you had told me all this sooner.”

  Sayuri paused, letting her words settle.

  “Stay by his side.”

  Madoka took a second, then nodded. She turned and followed the direction Zen went.

  Finally left alone, Sayuri let out a shuddering breath.

  “I’m sorry. But I can’t let you keep burning yourself.”

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  Inside the facility’s team lounge, Alpha-02 stood dormant in the gear hanger. Saya and Finn observed closely.

  “The damage is so severe,” Finn remarked.

  The upper layer—in pieces, the right side of the hood, still malfunctioning —and a large crack were visible from the top left to the bottom right of the gear’s chest.

  Saya traced the crack with her finger.

  “The armor took most of it, as it should.”

  Finn’s expression turned thoughtful. “But there’s no way the force didn’t reach him.”

  Behind them, the hydraulic door slid open. Both heads turned as Zen entered.

  “How are you feeling now?” Saya asked.

  Zen tossed the file onto a table and carefully sat down in a chair.

  “I’m fine.”

  Finn raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

  “Yep. How long for repairing Alpha?”

  Saya looked at the gear.

  “I think the answer is pretty obvious. A week minimum.”

  The door slid open again. Madoka entered.

  “Don’t you only have a few days in hand?”

  “I’ll talk to Professor and extend my stay,” Saya replied, focusing on the gear.

  “For as long as it takes to resolve things here.”

  “I suggest you head back to HQ once you finish repairing,” Zen said.

  Everyone went silent.

  Saya didn’t reply immediately.

  She closed her eyes, thinking, arms crossed.

  “Huh. And why should I?”

  “Because I don’t want to put a target on you,” he replied, staring at the floor. “The Rebellion is ruthless to their enemies.”

  Her head tilted slightly, eyes narrowing.

  “And what about you? Are you coming back to HQ?”

  Zen sighed. “No.”

  “And why not?!” Saya snapped. “You also have a target on yourself.”

  “What if they expose your location?” she argued. “They know who you are. What then?”

  Zen got up, forcing himself to his feet.

  “They won’t.”

  “And how are you so sure?” she asked, her breathing uneven.

  He walked towards the door. It slid open.

  “I just know.”

  And he left, refusing to continue the conversation, the door sliding closed behind him with a soft hiss.

  “Tch!” Saya scoffed.

  “He’s always been like this. Even when we were little,” she remarked. “Always pushing people away when he needed them the most.”

  “You sound like you’re considering it just because he pissed you off,” Finn said, flat. “You really aren’t planning to, right?”

  “Absolutely not!” she replied. “I’m not leaving when he’s at his lowest.”

  Madoka's eyes landed on the medical report file left on the table.

  She picked it up and began flipping through the pages.

  “If you’re still wondering… They won’t expose him. Kurenai-sensei has a soft spot for him. And he knows it.”

  She flipped until she landed on a page that showed an infrared map of Zen’s body. The entire left side and lower right were highlighted crimson.

  Saya peeked from the side, curious.

  Finn followed. “That… looks painful.”

  Madoka’s eyes narrowed, her grip tightening as if she wanted to tear the file apart.

  “Liar,” she murmured.

  The corridors of the dorms were faintly illuminated. Everyone had gone to sleep by then. The sound of footsteps echoed against the walls.

  Zen tapped his student ID against the door lock. It opened with a click.

  He entered, the door shutting behind him.

  He didn’t change his clothes. He didn’t even look at anything else.

  He just fell on his bed, palming his face, staring at the ceiling until his eyes drifted shut.

  He stayed like that for a while, completely motionless, yet unable to sleep.

  Then a knock on the door broke the silence.

  “Use your card,” he said out loud.

  Finn tapped his ID on the sensor. The door opened.

  He entered, already changed into his casual clothes.

  “Man, you don’t look so good.”

  “Shouldn’t you be asleep?” Zen asked, his voice muffled.

  “Sleep is not on my to-do list tonight,” Finn replied, approaching Zen’s bedside. “I’ll be here until you fully recover.”

  Zen sighed. “Did she ask you to?”

  Finn smirked, shaking his head in resignation. “No.”

  He checked the time on the bedside table clock. It read 11:27 P.M.

  “You haven’t had dinner yet, have you?”

  “No…”

  Finn turned to the small kitchenette.

  “I’ll cook something.”

  “It hurts, doesn’t it?” he asked as he went through the small cupboards, looking for ingredients.

  Zen didn’t reply.

  Finn paused to look back at him, then focused back on his task.

  “You don’t always have to endure everything alone, you know.”

  “…yeah,” Zen finally broke his silence.

  Finn finished going through all the cupboards, barely finding any ingredients to work with.

  “Have you been eating properly or what?” he murmured.

  He put on his sandals and opened the door.

  “I’ll go grab some stuff. Be right back.”

  And he gently shut the door and left in a hurry.

  Zen opened his eyes again, staring at his left hand as he slowly lifted it.

  For a second, he almost considered healing through the pain. But he chose otherwise.

  The strain on his arm reminded him that the cost wasn’t worth it.

  Down below, the atmosphere was loaded with the hum of chatter, footsteps, and the noise of vehicles on the road.

  High above the road, the only sound was the night air passing over the tall buildings.

  Kageri walked at a controlled pace on the railing of the tallest building around. The very place Zen always stopped to rest while scouting the city.

  She looked up at the sky, never losing her balance against the flowing wind.

  The memory of his face resurfaced. Her grip on her katana tightened.

  Her comms pinged. She answered.

  The voice of a man came through, calm and dry.

  “You were supposed to ensure the capture of that Solheim heir. I assume you have a reasonable excuse for failing your task.”

  Kageri exhaled sharply.

  “Oh, please, Andreas. You would be surprised to know why.”

  He chuckled, dry.

  “Enlighten me.”

  “He’s here,” she said.

  “Oh? Of all places?” Andreas asked, amused.

  Kageri smirked.

  “It is the least expected of all.”

  “Well, do consider me surprised,” he said. “The stakes just got higher, I suppose.”