The silence that gripped the cave was thick enough to strangle.
Dust settled after the brutal clash of words and fists. The echoes of Tyren's punch still lingered like a warning shot fired in a funeral hall.
Roan coughed, clutching his jaw, his breath shallow and erratic. A trail of blood painted his lower lip as he staggered up, eyes lit with fury but clouded by something deeper—shame. Dante, still tense, hovered by his side, jaw clenched, unmoving.
Across the cave, Tyren stood like a loaded cannon, chest heaving, arms stiff. His eyes never left the pair.
And Kael? He didn't so much as twitch.
He sat beside his battered machine, Ravager, hands occupied with rewiring a damaged servomotor as though none of this mattered.
Like none of them mattered.
---
Kael's Verdict
"I won't say it again," Kael said, eyes still locked on his mecha. "Leave. Now."
Roan spat blood. "That's how you do things now? Just toss out anyone who disagrees with your little cave kingdom?"
"You don't get it," Tyren growled, stepping forward. "This isn't about opinions. You endangered all of us. You stood there during that ambush like tourists."
Dante snapped back, "We didn't freeze—we were outgunned—"
"You didn't move." Kael finally looked up. "And on this planet, hesitation gets people killed. People I don't intend to lose again."
Roan looked between them—Kael's dead-cold glare, Tyren's seething fury—and something broke inside him. "Let's go, Dante. Let the animals eat themselves."
With stiff steps, they turned and disappeared into the mist beyond the cave's entrance, leaving only a swirl of sand and regret in their wake.
---
Left Behind
But not everyone moved.
Misha, Rynn, and Ziya remained.
Rynn's hand trembled near her sidearm. Misha had tears welling up, but her jaw was tight—conflicted. Ziya stayed quiet, her posture low, her body partially behind Tyren.
Kael didn't glance back.
"I'm not babysitting anyone else," he said, voice flat. "If you're staying, understand this: We don't rescue cowards. We bury them."
The three girls stood in silence, like statues beneath a storm.
---
Misha Speaks
Misha finally took a step forward. Her voice cracked, but she forced the words out.
"I… I didn't freeze. I tried to move. I really did. I—"
Kael cut her off. "Trying doesn't win fights. Results do."
Tyren didn't say a word. He just walked to the far side of the cave, sat near the ledge, and stared into the abyss beyond.
Ziya shifted slightly forward, finally standing in the open. Her eyes flicked from Kael to Tyren.
"We don't want to leave," she said softly.
"You already did," Kael muttered.
---
Rynn's Hesitation
Rynn's voice followed next, quieter. "Maybe we're not fighters like you. But we came back."
Kael stood now, wiping grease off his hands.
"Good. Then you know where the exit is."
He turned back to Ravager and opened another panel. That was all. That was his final word.
The cave returned to silence. Just the low hum of leftover radiation monitors, wind howling through fractured stone, and the faint pulse of mechanical heartbeats from half-repaired mecha.
---
Outside: The Exile Walk
Outside, Roan and Dante marched in silence.
"You think we messed up?" Dante asked.
Roan didn't answer immediately. His eyes stayed ahead, scanning the shadows.
"We're not like them," he said finally. "We never were. Kael… he's not a man. He's war wrapped in skin."
---
Within the Cave
Back in the cave, Tyren muttered curses to himself. Not at anyone in particular. Just the world.
Just fate.
Just the fact that he didn't get to punch Dante too.
Ziya knelt beside a portable heater and tried not to cry. Rynn stared at the floor, fingernails digging into her arms.
Misha simply sat. Staring at Kael. Wondering how a man so broken could still stand tall.
Wondering if she ever would.
---
Kael and Ravager
Kael sat alone with Ravager again. The scratches on its plating were deeper than ever. The insignia was nearly gone.
With slow, careful movements, he took out a burner torch and etched something into the metal beneath the chest panel.
404 — bold, deep, indented like a scar.
Beneath that, in smaller font:
"Ravagers rise. Betrayal breaks bones, not resolve."
He sat back, eyes burning. Not from heat.
From memory.