Chapter 7: The Unspoken Truth
The Vanguard found a temporary reprieve inside a massive, subterranean subway tunnel, mostly shielded from the cultists by solid concrete and debris. The other eight Hunters, shaken but recovering, immediately set up defenses and tried to stabilize the mana drain from the trial.
Aiden was isolated, sitting on an overturned train car, his Chronos interface quietly running diagnostics, monitoring the newly applied fate tether. Rin watched him from the shadows, his eyes filled with a familiar, dangerous blend of longing and resentment.
He couldn't take it anymore. The forced proximity, the cold command, the painful familiarity of Aiden's tactical embrace during the Siren attack. Rin walked out of the shadows, his footsteps loud in the confined space.
"We need to talk about it," Rin stated, his voice devoid of his usual manufactured warmth.
Aiden closed the interface with a silent command, his gaze instantly hardening. "We need to discuss the optimal route to the floor exit, Rin. The Cult's presence indicates a high-value asset, likely an artifact, is being guarded. Our mission is to secure it."
"I'm not talking about the mission. I'm talking about us," Rin insisted, walking right up to the train car. He looked up at Aiden, who was perched above him, distant and untouchable. "We are bound by the Goddess, forced to save each other, and you still treat me like a variable in an equation. Why the distance, Aiden? If you were reborn, why haven't you changed?"
Aiden remained frozen, his face a perfect mask of granite. "I haven't changed because my calculations were correct. The mission succeeded. Your life was preserved."
Rin reached out, slamming his hand onto the rusty metal of the train car right next to Aiden's knee. "My life was preserved. My soul was shattered, and you know it. We were lovers, Aiden. We were inseparable. We were supposed to rule the Tower, not die separate, agonizing deaths!"
The use of the word lovers hung in the air, a raw, painful sound that made the other Hunters nervously shift away.
Aiden finally lowered his head, meeting Rin's gaze. His eyes were cold, but Rin could see the faint, rapid tremor in his pupils—a sign of the internal battle he was fighting.
"That life is over. That bond was a tactical vulnerability," Aiden whispered, pushing the cruelest words he could find to the forefront. "I had to choose between the integrity of the Vanguard and the sentiment of our relationship. I chose the Vanguard. It was a cold, necessary choice to ensure the survival of humanity's greatest resources."
Rin flinched as if physically struck, his hand retracting from the train car. "Resources? Is that all I was to you? A high-value asset whose preservation was worth the price of your own soul?"
"Yes," Aiden stated flatly, his voice utterly devoid of feeling. "And I would do it again."
Rin shook his head, a broken sound escaping his throat. "I don't believe you. The man I loved—the one I died for—could not have been this empty. He was capable of tenderness, of genuine fear when I was hurt. That vision Artemis showed me… it was full of your despair."
Rin took a step back, his eyes searching Aiden's face for the slightest crack in his armor. "Tell me the truth, Aiden. If you chose the mission, why did you pay the price of Chronos's ultimate shift—sacrificing your memories, your self—just to guarantee my soul's rebirth? Why didn't you just let me die?"
This was the question. The one Aiden could not answer.
"My power, the Arbiter of Chronos, dictated the optimal outcome for the timeline. It required the severance, and it required the price," Aiden replied, sticking strictly to the mechanical facts. He was unable to explain that revealing the Fate Constraint—the external temporal lock placed on Rin's soul—would destabilize the new timeline and likely draw the immediate, overwhelming attention of the Outer Gods they were fighting to escape.
I am protecting him from a truth that would destroy him, Aiden thought bitterly.
Rin let out a short, hollow laugh. "The Arbiter of Chronos. You think you are a god, controlling every fate. You didn't save me because you loved me; you saved me because you couldn't tolerate the one variable—me—slipping from your control."
Rin's eyes welled up, but he blinked back the tears with brutal speed. "Fine. Let's play your game, Hunter Aiden. I will not be a liability, and I will not be an asset. I will simply be the fastest blade on this floor, and I will keep my own counsel."
He turned to walk away, his heart aching with a renewed sense of betrayal—a cold confirmation that the man he loved was truly gone, replaced by a ruthless strategist.
As Rin walked away, Aiden watched him go, his Chronos interface showing the dangerously high stress on the fate tether. He reached out a trembling hand, but let it fall back to his side.
The hatred is necessary. It is the only thing that keeps the chain of betrayal—and your soul—intact.
He had won the argument, maintaining the necessary distance. But in winning, he had lost everything again.