(Kelvin's POV, Radiata safehouse late evening)
The safehouse hums with the low buzz of the old refrigerator. I lean against the counter, stirring sugar into a chipped mug of tea. Across the room, Liliana paces like a storm waiting to hit. Gabriel sits in the corner, posture perfect, silence heavier than stone.
Liliana: "So let me get this straight— you just went to see her? No warning, no plan, nothing?"
Gabriel:[calm, clipped] "Observation."
Liliana:[snorts] "Oh, don't give me that. You're not a CCTV camera. You talked to her, didn't you?"
Gabriel:[steady] "…Yes."
Liliana throws her hands up, pacing faster. I sip my tea, watching the fire spark in her eyes.
Liliana: "Unbelievable. Do you ever think about the consequences? She's sixteen, Gabriel. Six. Teen. You can't just dump cosmic baggage on her and then brood in the shadows like some anime anti-hero."
Gabriel:[coolly] "Time doesn't respect birthdays."
Liliana:[mocking his tone] "Oh, wow, so profound. Should I write that down for your memoir?"
I set the mug down before this explodes. My voice cuts through, calm but firm.
Me (Kelvin): "Enough. Both of you."
Liliana pauses, glaring at Gabriel. Gabriel doesn't even blink. I sigh, rubbing my temple.
Me: "She's fragile right now. I saw her at school today. She looked… lost. Confused."
Liliana:[softening slightly] "Yeah, no kidding. Gabriel shows up out of nowhere whispering creepy names, and she's supposed to be fine?"
Gabriel:[level, unmoved] "Names are not creepy. They are truths."
Liliana:[rolling her eyes] "Okay, Mr. Fortune Cookie."
I can't help but laugh quietly, though I try to smother it with a cough. Gabriel's gaze flicks to me — not angry, but assessing. Always assessing.
Me:[serious again] "She deserves a choice, Gabriel. You know that."
Gabriel:[quietly, with finality] "Choice doesn't change debt."
The silence that follows is heavy. Liliana kicks at the leg of a chair, frustrated. I sip my tea again, staring at the rising steam, wishing it carried answers.
Kelvin's POV, Radiata safehouse, continued)
Liliana hasn't stopped pacing. Her boots echo against the floorboards like a drumbeat of irritation. Gabriel hasn't moved from the shadowed corner, posture perfect, voice measured. I sip my tea, letting the silence stretch, but Liliana snaps it in half.
Liliana: "You know what scares me more than anything, Gabriel? It's not that you're cold. It's that you think you're right. Always. Like there's never another way."
Gabriel:[flat, unflinching] "Because there isn't."
Liliana:[spinning toward him, voice rising] "There always is! That's what you don't get. You talk like everything's inevitable, like people are just stuck on rails heading toward doom. But she's not. Anastasha is not. She's a kid who deserves to live without you breathing prophecy in her ear."
Gabriel:[quiet, but cutting] "And if prophecy comes whether she hears it or not? What then?"
Liliana:[snapping] "Then you fight it. You protect her. You don't just—" [she cuts herself off, gesturing wildly] "—drop it on her and walk away like some tragic samurai!"
Her voice cracks on the last word. She doesn't notice, but I do. I set the mug down, the ceramic clink soft but grounding. My voice is calm, steady.
Me (Kelvin): "Liliana."
Liliana:[glaring at me, then back at Gabriel] "No. He needs to hear this. You talk about debts and inevitability, Gabriel, but what about the debt you owe her? What about the fact that you…" [she swallows hard] "…that you let her die last time?"
The words land like a stone through glass. The room stills. My breath catches. Even Liliana seems startled by her own boldness. Gabriel doesn't move at first. For a moment, I think he won't answer. Then his voice comes — low, rougher than before, not quite as steady.
Gabriel: "…Do you think I've forgotten?"
His eyes flicker toward us, just for a second. Not cold. Not unreadable. Haunted. Then the mask slides back into place.
Gabriel:[clipped, firm again] "Memory is weight enough. I won't carry your judgment on top of it."
Liliana freezes, guilt flashing across her face. She looks down, jaw tight. I step in quickly before the silence drowns us.
Me: "That's enough. Both of you."
Liliana exhales hard, running a hand through her hair. She mutters under her breath but doesn't push further. Gabriel turns back to the wall, posture rigid, silence heavy. I pick up my tea again, though it's gone lukewarm. My voice is softer now, almost to myself.
Me: "Sometimes… remembering isn't the same as carrying."
Neither of them answers. The refrigerator hum fills the space again, louder than before. The storm hasn't passed, but it's shifted. Liliana leans against the wall, Gabriel locks himself back into silence, and I sit between them, wishing I could stitch the fractures shut.