The training chamber was unusually silent. Not a single clang of armor. Not even the usual hum of calibrating mecha. The entire battleship, once roaring with cheers after Kael and Tyren's spectacular semi-final victory, now sat under a cloud of confusion. No official word had come about why the final round of the Inter-Battleship Competition was suddenly cancelled. It was as if the system had been forcefully shut down… or silenced.
Kael had just stepped out of the chamber, towel around his neck, his damp hair clinging slightly to his forehead. He was looking forward to meeting Ryssa. Her absence during the match had already unsettled him. She had never missed one since the beginning.
"Where is she…?" Kael murmured under his breath as he walked down the corridor.
Ziya passed him briefly, visibly flustered as she clutched a datapad, clearly searching for Tyren. Kael didn't stop her. Everyone seemed… unbalanced.
And then he heard it — soft whispers among the staff.
"They stripped her title…"
"She was demoted? Ryssa? Are you sure?"
"They said it was over fraternizing with a subordinate… Kael."
Kael stopped in his tracks. A chilling silence swallowed the air around him.
His breath tightened in his throat.
His feet moved on their own.
He burst through the security wing and took the left hallway leading to the commander's residential quarters. No guards. No seal. No restriction. Her nameplate was already removed.
He stood outside her door and pressed the chime. No answer.
"…Ryssa," he said softly.
Still no answer.
But the door wasn't locked.
He stepped in.
She was there — curled up on the couch, knees pulled to her chest, her long auburn hair messily spilling over her face. Her uniform jacket lay discarded, and she wore a simple black sleeveless shirt beneath, her command badge removed.
Tears had dried on her cheeks, but her eyes… her eyes were storm-tossed seas barely containing the next wave.
Kael walked over slowly, as if afraid to break something fragile.
"I heard," he said finally, voice barely above a whisper.
She didn't look up.
"I didn't want you to," she whispered. "Not yet."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because," she said with a forced smile, finally meeting his eyes, "it was my mess. I chose to be close to you. I flirted first. I chased you. You didn't ask for this."
Kael's fists clenched. "They demoted you… because of me?"
She chuckled bitterly. "They said I compromised my rank by growing emotionally entangled. That I violated the integrity of command. But we both know it wasn't about integrity. It was politics. The moment someone like me was seen vulnerable to someone like you—someone they threw away and now fear—they pounced."
Kael stepped closer.
"Ryssa," he said, voice low but firm, "I'm not going to stand by and let them bury you for this."
She reached out and grabbed his hand.
"You won't do anything," she said gently, her voice cracking. "Because if you do, they'll bury you too. And I can't lose you."
The room fell silent.
Kael dropped to one knee beside her and slowly pulled her into a hug. For a moment, her body was stiff… and then she collapsed into him, fists clutching the back of his shirt, tears once again flowing.
"I spent years carving my name into their system," she sobbed. "I was a commander. I was respected. And the moment I loved someone they couldn't control, it was all gone."
Kael tightened his arms around her.
"Then we carve a new name," he said.
She looked up at him, eyes wide.
He cupped her face and leaned closer.
"Not under their banner. Not in their games. But under our own sky."
A heavy silence lingered before a sudden alert flashed on Kael's comm. He checked the screen.
Notice: Inter-Battleship Competition Final Round has been officially canceled due to "undisclosed political realignment."
Kael laughed — not out of amusement, but cold, seething rage.
"They're running," he muttered.
"They're terrified of what we are," Ryssa added.
She placed a soft hand on his chest, eyes still moist but no longer broken. "But I'm done running."
Kael nodded.
Just then, the door chimed.
It was Tyren.
"Kael, they're calling us—"
He paused as he saw Ryssa in Kael's arms, their expressions somber but intense.
Tyren didn't speak for a moment.
Then he let out a small smirk. "Took you long enough."
Ryssa chuckled softly and slowly rose from Kael's arms, brushing back her hair.
"I'll step out," she said softly. "I need to deal with this new… civilian life."
Kael caught her hand. "You're not going through this alone."
Ryssa looked back at him.
"I know," she said with a faint smile.
As she left, Tyren crossed his arms.
"So… she's out?"
Kael nodded.
"They're trying to muzzle everything. Canceling the final match is just the start. We're getting too big to ignore."
"And you think they'll stop?"
Kael stared at the door Ryssa had exited through.
"No. And that's why we won't either."
Tyren grinne
d.
"Guess we show them what two discarded weapons can do."
Kael smirked back.
"And this time, we don't play by their rules."