The room was quiet, save for the faint, mechanical hum of medical monitors and the soft whoosh of recycled air. Dim lighting framed the sterile chamber in hues of silver-blue, like a resting battlefield after a long war.
Kael still hadn't moved much since regaining consciousness. His fingers twitched occasionally, his breath was calm—controlled. But his eyes remained hollow, distant, stormy.
Seated across from him, arms loosely folded, was Ryssa.
Her crimson jacket hung off the side of her chair, revealing the lean, toned muscle under her undersuit. A datapad hovered in her hand, flickering with tactical logs, files, schematics—and his entire classified profile.
She hadn't spoken for several minutes, simply observing.
Calculating. Planning. Waiting.
---
What do you offer a man who's already lost everything?
She asked herself that over and over.
Power? Rank? Freedom? No—none of that mattered to someone like Kael anymore.
He wasn't a broken soldier; he was a restrained storm. Brutal. Focused. Untamed.
He didn't need offers of medals or ranks.
He needed something real.
Respect.
She glanced down at the schematic she'd pulled up. Ravager Mk III.
Outdated. Manual-balanced. Brutally inefficient by modern standards. No AI navigation. No gyro-stabilizers. It was a beast only meant for one thing: war. And Kael had piloted it like it was an extension of his soul.
Most considered the Ravager model obsolete. Too difficult to handle. Too risky.
But to Ryssa—it wasn't obsolete. It was honest. A raw, unfiltered weapon, much like Kael himself.
A dangerous smile tugged at the edge of her lips.
Forget bribery.
She would rebuild Ravager. With every bolt and seal. Better. Stronger. Sharper.
Not as a gift. Not as a bribe. But as recognition.
---
A rustle stirred the silence.
Kael shifted slightly in bed, then groaned low in his throat. His hand gripped the sheet like it was a throttle. His body tensed, his breathing quickened.
Ryssa leaned forward, gaze narrowing. "Kael?"
His eyes slowly opened.
His stare was blank for a second—then focused on her. Sharp. A dagger's edge.
He didn't speak. Just watched her, expression unreadable.
Ryssa raised one eyebrow, letting her smirk curl in. "Didn't think a war machine like you would sleep this long."
No response.
She tilted her head. "That's fine. I'm not here to hold your hand." Her tone dipped into something flirtatious. "But I am here to offer you something."
Kael slowly sat up, groaning as his ribs protested. He didn't reply.
Ryssa walked over to the bedside, casual yet predatory in her stride. She rested her hip on the edge of the medical console and leaned slightly.
"What if I told you I could give you a command rank?" she purred. "An elite squad. Full independence. My direct support."
Kael blinked once. Slowly.
Still nothing.
She leaned closer, voice velvet-smooth. "You and I... could burn the system down from the inside. All you have to do is nod."
Silence.
Ryssa sighed dramatically and stepped back, clearly enjoying the mind game. "Fine. Let's do it your way." She flicked open a hologram—Ravager's incomplete blueprint appeared in the air.
"I'm having it rebuilt," she said. "From scratch. Not because you need a bribe. But because a weapon like that—" she tapped the schematic, "—deserves a master like you."
Kael's eyes widened, but just barely. A flicker. A tremor of something stirring.
Ryssa noticed. She didn't miss a beat.
"So. I'm not asking you to be mine. I'm telling you that the universe deserves to see what you really are."
She stepped closer again, voice lowering.
"Kael... when you're ready—if you ever want revenge, purpose, or just a second chance to be more than a scapegoat—I'll be waiting."
She paused.
"Name your terms."
For the first time, Kael opened his mouth—but no words came. His jaw clenched, his throat moved as if trying to force something out... but it was just silence.
Then he exhaled and turned his head away.
Not a rejection.
But not a yes either.
Just... unresolved rage. Frozen.
Ryssa didn't push further.
She simply nodded, as if she'd heard everything he didn't say.
"Take your time. The universe won't save itself."
She turned and walked to the door, leaving behind the subtle scent of war and ambition.
Kael lay in bed, eyes lock
ed on the projection of Ravager that still floated in the air.
And his fingers, unconsciously, curled into a fist.