Rain whispered against the windows of the D.V. medical bay. Dim fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead, their hum blending with the steady rhythm of a heart monitor.
Beep… beep… beep…
Ayla stirred. Her breath caught in her throat, shallow and uneven. Slowly, her eyes opened to a blurry ceiling above. Cold sheets pressed against her skin, bandages tight around her ribs. She blinked hard, but the world still felt muted. Her fingers trembled as she tried to move. The effort sent a sharp wave of pain tearing through her side, forcing a wince. She steadied herself, sinking back into a quiet exhale.
The room was still. A medic slumped asleep in a chair nearby, head bowed.
Turning her head toward the window, Ayla watched the rain trace slow trails down the glass, each drop like a tear sliding into the mist beyond.
FLASH—memory.
The crater. Smoke. Blake in the rain, carrying her limp body in his arms.
Her chest tightened. She let out a long breath, shaky and uncertain, then raised a hand to her face. Her fingers brushed the corner of her lip, where blood had once stained and fell again. She stared at her palm, trembling. She said nothing. But her eyes told a different story.
Something had changed.
Her gaze drifted back to the rain-soaked window. Outside, the lights of the D.V. outpost flickered faintly in the fog. Somewhere beyond that veil, she felt it, his presence.
Her fingers curled slowly into the blanket.
Dawn broke gently over Blake's family home.
The first light of morning stretched across the hills, spilling into the quiet yard. The hills were still wrapped in mist when the sound began.
Whup-whup-whup…
Two dark helicopters skimmed low over the rooftops, searchlights sweeping slowly across the sleepy village. Dogs barked in the distance. Blake sat at the wooden table, hands cupped around a chipped clay mug. His tea was cold, long forgotten. He stared at it anyway. No expression, just tired eyes reflecting the faint light that seeped in around the curtains.
Babu paused in the doorway, brow knotted.
Babu (low): "Blake, whats!…"
Before he could finish, boots crunched outside. A knock—three sharp raps.
The door eased open without force. Two D.V. Force Hunters stood there, their faces like masks. Behind them the morning light was carved into hard shapes by jeeps and an armored truck parked in the dust. A helicopter hovered overhead, its downwash stirring the grass into frantic waves.
One of the Hunters stepped forward, voice measured.
Hunter #1: "Blake Balthasar. Command requests your presence."
Blake rose to his feet slowly without a word of protest, chair scraping across the floorboards. His movements were deliberate and calm despite the tension crackling through the air. For a moment, one of the Hunters shifted back a step, unease flickering across his face—as if he feared Blake might resist, might unleash what they had witnessed before.
The incident earlier had sealed his fate, there was no point in denying it. Blake glanced once toward Babu, as if searching for something to say, then nodded. Babu couldn't comprehend why these Hunters had come for Blake or what any of it meant.
The D.V. Force operatives moved with practiced efficiency, flanking Blake as he walked toward the door. The cuffs were light, more formality than restraint, as they clicked around his wrists.
Blake's gaze drifted across the trucks, the uniforms, the eyes that wouldn't quite meet his.
He followed without resistance.
Kellan stood to one side, hands hooked into his belt. He watched Blake pass by—a boy who looked too small for all this. Yet only hours earlier, Kellan had seen what no one could explain. He spoke under his breath, barely audible over the distant rotors.
Kellan (low): "Bit pointless putting restraints on someone who could snap them like twigs."
[TWO HUNTERS BY THE TAILGATE QUIETLY]
One elbowed the other as Blake was guided into the truck.
Hunter #2 (murmuring): "You heard what happened after the fight?"
The other nodded once, eyes fixed on Blake through the glass.
Hunter #1: "He carried her straight to the medics and just walked away."
A beat.
"Look at him now. Like none of it happened."
The engines rumbled to life.
Babu stood on the porch, arms wrapped around himself, as the convoy eased away into the mist.
And overhead—
whup-whup-whup-whup…Whup
The helicopters banked toward the hills.