"…What?" Zion said, staring at Ravel as his eyes widened slightly.
Even the two crewmates started murmuring wildly, while one of them unfolded a blue hologram, seemingly to message others.
"I meant what I said," Ravel continued, folding his arms with a smile. "People with intelligence and high talent in repairs are hard to come by."
Zion remained silent for a moment, letting the words sink in as Ravel's behaviour over the past few days suddenly completely clicked in place.
'The scar and all the casual questions,' he thought. 'All of them were aimed to evaluate me… outside a few that were clearly trying to plant seeds of doubt for the future.'
He especially hadn't been able to understand why Ravel cared so much about a stranger's future plans or why he tried to warn him of the dangers of being alone. 'But those were just attempts to plant doubt and fear of staying alone.'
Before he could delve any deeper into Ravel's manipulations, he glanced up just enough to see Ravel patiently waiting for an answer.
'That's right,' Zion thought, clearing his thoughts. 'I can do all of that later. What matters most is answering him right now.'
'But… what is the best option for me?'
The pressure of that question lingered, only growing worse as Uriel told him nearly a minute had gone by in complete silence.
Despite his worries, Ravel's smile remained unchanged, even occasionally taking a bite of his food.
'Joining his crew now would guarantee connections and safety on Daresk,' his mind raced. 'But on the other side, I'll risk getting my suit exposed or my identity getting leaked.'
His initial plan had been to simply join a few random mercenary crews and travel with them for money and combat experience.
'But that's easy to say when I have no other options,' he thought. 'Many mercenary crews use newcomers as bait or to trigger traps, not to mention just outright killing them to avoid sharing profits.'
As another minute went by in silence, Ravel cleared his throat lightly, attracting Zion's attention immediately.
Ravel leaned back slightly, still wearing the same smile on his face when he started speaking.
"Take your time," he said, pushing his chair back. "I understand that this could be a difficult decision."
As Ravel picked up his empty plate, he glanced at Zion one more time. "Just know, you'll be treated well here."
With that, he disposed of his plate and walked out, the door closing behind him and leaving the room in silence.
For a moment, Zion didn't move.
Then the whispering behind him started.
"Did he really just offer him a spot?" one of the subordinates murmured, not even trying to hide it.
"No clue," the other whispered back. "Captain must see something big in him."
'I need to think about this,' Zion thought, glancing at the crewmates behind him. 'Can't do that here.'
As he looked back at his nearly empty plate, another hushed voice followed behind him.
"Think he'll accept?"
"Hard to tell really, guy seems pretty sketchy but who knows."
Zion let out a soft sigh, grabbing his plate while standing up.
Both crewmates fell silent, pretending to focus on their plates as Zion walked past.
After emptying the last scraps of food into the waste chute and setting his plate aside, Zion turned around, glancing at the crewmates once before leaving the waste hall.
He didn't wait around, heading straight for his room while his mind raced.
'I need to calculate the risks and benefits thoroughly,' he thought, narrowing his eyes as he walked. 'Can't afford to rush this decision.'
Finally reaching his room, he closed the door behind him and sat down on his bed.
"Alright," he muttered, letting out a deep sigh as he dove deep into the benefits.
'For the benefits… immediate protection, likely some resources, stable income, and the option to create a solid identity,' he tapped his fingers against his leg. 'But the risks… are harder to ignore.'
His gaze lowered to the floor.
'There's still the risk of my identity slipping… or the suit. And crew politics can get ugly—something I can avoid if I keep moving from group to group.'
He let out a slow breath.
'Not to mention, I have no idea what Ravel's own agenda is… and I'd have to follow his orders.'
Some risks weren't even worth worrying about. Others were manageable if he put in a little more effort.
But the longer he stared at the floor, the more one thought kept creeping back.
'Joining a crew right now… it feels like the wrong move.'
He paused, finger no longer tapping against his leg. 'Maybe I'm overthinking it… but luckily I'm not alone anymore.'
"Uriel," he asked. "What do you think?"
It took a few seconds before Uriel finally responded.
[Host,] its voice echoed softly through his mind. [If you join this crew now, you will gain comfort, safety, and many short-term advantages.]
It paused briefly.
[But at the same time, you will be locked into one place, which could ruin your future goals and wishes.]
Zion exhaled softly, nodding to himself. 'So I was missing something.'
He understood perfectly what Uriel meant. Not only could it hinder his own training, it could even prevent him from getting opportunities and taking certain tasks related to his improvement.
"Thanks, Uriel," he said, smiling slightly. "We'll just swap between some mercenary crews once we reach Daresk."
[Affirmative, host,] Uriel said, its voice sounding slightly more cheerful.
Zion laid down on his bed, staring at the ceiling above him.
"What do you think the odds are Ravel kills me if I don't accept?" he asked with a slight smile.
[Uncertain,] Uriel replied. [But not zero. Host should not forget that this is a scavenger crew, regardless of how nice they are.]
Zion nodded slowly, clenching his fist.
'That's right,' he thought. 'I should always keep my guard up.'
There were only about two days left until they'd reach Daresk. He wasn't planning to make some kind of fatal mistake now.