Chap 193: Old Wounds

Tee set her large knapsack on the ground and sank onto her bed. Though her camera was broken, she still had the memory chip with the photos. But she would rather replay moments from the event through her Verge to relive the laughter, the lights, the brief illusion of fantasy.

But her faint smile disappeared as she remembered how it had ended. Kie lying in pain on a separate bed, swallowed by darkness. The memory tightened her chest. She wished desperately that she could have done something.

She entered the study sanctum. Aven and Engel noticed immediately the dullness in her expression. She passed without her usual enthusiasm, without even a proper greeting.

Engel paused, observing her form through the orb he had been studying. “How was thy sojourn at thy resort?” His large beady eyes glued to her. 

Tee stopped before a hovering hologram screen that displayed tallies of her failures. The numbers glowed coldly. Her brows lowered further. “It was… good,” she replied, the words drained of life.

A small puff escaped Aven’s nose. “Well, your expression says otherwise. Tell us what happened,” he said, his voice carrying a firm edge despite the dazzling brightness in his eyes.

In his mind, he imagined the scene vividly. A vast river bordered by modern worlders beneath stretched tents of woven cloth and curious design. They trusted in their lowly water-contraptions—humming, sputtering things of metal and pipe—seeking to command the river’s flow as though the current would bow to their fragile devices.

Surely there would have been an abundance of food. The modern worlders were given much to eat. Tables bending beneath platters of meats glazed in strange sauces, breads shaped in endless varieties, fruits cut and dyed in colours bold and unnatural. Sweet vapours thick in the air. Cups brimming with jewel-bright concoctions crafted more by artifice than by earth.

Thus he imagined their water contraptions—plentiful and dazzling, yet lacking. Rich in display but poor in quiet wisdom. Clever in device, yet backward in spirit. Though they stood beside the mighty river, they seemed ever apart from its living song.

Tee found it interesting that both Aven and Engel knew of her birthday, yet neither wished her a happy birthday nor offered a gift. Perhaps it was not a Vergant custom. She expected even less from her other teammates.

“We went on rides, ate, and slept,” she said flatly.

Aven’s bright eyes dimmed slightly at the obvious restraint in her tone. He sensed he would get nothing more from her. Hana had always spoken of such things with far more spirit.

Tee’s heart jolted at the sudden sound of the Commander’s voice. She turned to see his green eyes staring at her from a hologram.

“Cadet, please meet me in my office. We have matters to discuss.”

Oh no. Was her lack of progress on the cure about to confine her permanently to the living complex? Or had she done something wrong? Perhaps Kie had told the Commander about Patience. Strangely, she couldn’t bring herself to feel anger toward him.

Those thoughts plagued her until she found herself seated before the Commander’s glass desk. Relief washed over her when she learned the matter did not concern her failures.

Visiting their home districts for one day had left Miko, Zod, and Saeda nostalgic. Mid-Guard troopers were permitted to return home only twice during their two years of service, in rotating batches. Tee and her teammates had already used their first visit during their first year before going to Primus. Now that they had all recently turned twenty, it was time for another. The Commander agreed it would keep things “believable.”

Tee leaned forward in her chair, feet flat against the floor as if ready to leave. “That won’t be necessary for me,” she said. “I have no one to visit. They’re either dead or in prison.”

The Commander furrowed his brows, then seemed to reconsider. “I understand. However, one of your cadets in a similar situation has requested to rent an apartment in order to spend time in their district. Perhaps you would consider the same…”

Only one person came to mind.

Kie.

However, she made it clear that she had no intention of returning to her own district.

Later, during their nightly chat, she asked Kie about it.

The light from Tee’s holomap cast a faint blue glow across her ceiling. She lay flat on her back, staring up at it as if answers might be written there.

“I found a place,” Kie said. “Studio apartment. Close to the upper district rails. Lieutenant helped with the paperwork.”

There was pride in his tone. Quiet, restrained pride.

“That’s good,” Tee replied.

A pause.

“The others are sorted too,” he continued. “Miko’s family already arranged transport. Zod’s excited. Saeda hasn’t said much.”

He waited.

Tee swallowed. “Is Sirsy going to be there?”

Silence.

Not static. Not interference.

Silence.

“I doubt I’ll bump into her,” Kie said at last. Too even. Too careful.

Tee turned on her side, clutching the edge of her pillow. “Am I invited?”

The question was soft but it cut through the air between them.

Kie’s mind drifted back to the night he almost strangled her, mistaking her for Karen in the dark. The memory tightened around his chest. He couldn’t let that ever happen again. A shiver ran over him with the flash of Karen’s face in his mind. 

The pause continued longer that time. 

“Kie?”

“We’re not together,” he said. Not unkind. Just firm. “You remember that, right?”

The words didn’t strike like a blow.

They settled.

Heavy.

“I know,” she whispered. “But it’s just two weeks. I thought—”

“That retreat was different.”

“That was five days after my birthday,” she snapped before she could stop herself.

He exhaled slowly. “Tee.”

“What?”

“You know that was special.”

“Was it?” Her voice trembled. “Or was it just convenient?”

A beat.

“That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” Her throat tightened. She hated that she sounded like that. Small. Accusing. Needing. “I just thought,” she said more quietly, “that maybe I mattered enough to be there.”

“You do.”

“Not like that.”

The words slipped out before she could guard them.

On the other end of the line, Kie pushed himself upright in his bed, the sheets bunching at his waist. He dragged a hand down his face, exhaustion etched into every movement.

“We’re just friends.”

A hollow laugh came through. “More like friends with benefits.”

Kie’s jaw tightened. “Hey, you’re the one who suggested it once. Now here you are trying to cure something even the Vergants couldn’t fix.” His voice sharpened despite himself. “Your progress—this Balance Seal—none of it changes the truth. You’re still… you’re still going to die soon.”

The words hung between them, heavier than he intended.

“That’s not what this is about,” she said, quieter now.

“It is,” he insisted, though the anger in his tone was fraying into fear. “You don’t need to prove anything by being with me. Or with anyone.” He swallowed, looking down at his trembling hands. “You don’t need to attach yourself to somebody just to feel alive. You’re already strong. You’ve always been strong.”

His voice softened. “You deserve to enjoy the world because you want to. Not because you’re racing against a clock.”

Her chest tightened. “I’m not trying to prove anything,” she whispered. “I just didn’t want to be alone.”

That did it.

That was the real sentence.

He went quiet again.

The air between them felt thinner.

“I’ll be alone too,” he said eventually.

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“You choose it.”

How had he ever chosen any of it—his father walking away, his mother dying, his brother leaving him behind too? He didn’t answer that. 

Seconds stretched.

Finally she said, “Forget it.”

“Tee—”

“I’m tired.”

She wasn’t. Not really.

“I’m just tired.”

Before he could respond, the connection went silent.

The room felt colder without his voice in it.

She shoved the telecom beneath her pillow and rolled onto her stomach, pressing her face into the fabric.

Five days after… Not even on the day.

Her birthday. Her cure. Her existence.

Everything felt delayed.

Everything felt almost.

And almost was starting to feel like nothing.

In the darkness, her mind was consumed by the weight of her slow progress. Every failed attempt echoed louder in the silence. Every unfinished calculation, every unstable reaction, every almost-there breakthrough pressed against her chest until it was hard to breathe. 

Was she in over her head? Was that arrogance disguised as hope? If the greatest minds of the Vergants hadn’t already created a cure with all their knowledge, their resources, their centuries of study—what made her think she could? What made her believe she was different?

Tears blurred her vision as the truth settled in again. Tetra was gone. Truly gone. Not just absent. Not just away on assignment. Gone. The word felt hollow and endless. Without Tetra’s steady presence, the quiet felt unbearable. There was no one left to reassure her, no one left who chose her without expectation attached. She was really alone.

And Kie… the thought of him twisted something sharp inside her. Lately, he felt distant—calculating. Familiar in the worst way. It reminded her of Jack.

Jack hadn’t wanted her heart. He had wanted her body. The thrill. The conquest. The validation. She could see it clearly. The lingering touches, the charm that only surfaced when it suited him, the way his attention sharpened when desire was involved and dulled when it wasn’t. She had mistaken hunger for affection. Mistaken pursuit for care. In the end, she had simply been something to win. Something to use.

And at the moment she feared Kie was drifting into that same shadow of wanting something from her, not her.

She was nothing special to him. Just proximity. Just advantage. Just access.

Even Tetra—sweet, patient Tetra—had used her. That realization hurt the most. Tetra had called her brilliant. Special. Strong. She had offered warmth, guidance, even a mother’s affection. But beneath it all, hadn’t she also been observing? Measuring? Testing? 

She had been an experiment. A living variable. A carefully monitored subject. And the love… was it genuine? Or was it given carefully, strategically—just enough to keep her stable, compliant, undisturbed so the results wouldn’t be compromised?

The thought made her chest ache.

And Primus… Primus had always used her. From the moment they discovered what she was capable of. Training her. Deploying her. Protecting the mission above her well-being. Her value had always been tied to output. To performance. To usefulness.

The realization hollowed her out.

Everyone wanted something from her.

Her body.

Her power.

Her potential.

But no one wanted her.

And in the darkness, that truth felt heavier than failure ever could.

Three days later, Miko, Zod, Kie, and Saeda found themselves on a jet with their luggage, headed to spend two weeks in their respective districts. Only Miko wore a bright, hopeful smile. She prayed her parents had noticed her absence and would be genuinely happy to see her—unlike the last home visit where it was as if she had never left.

Zod, on the other hand, wasn’t looking forward to seeing his father—or even his mother, if he were honest. But his little brother, Zodiac, always managed to light up his world. He couldn’t wait to scoop his small frame into his arms and squeeze him tight.

He told Miko stories about his brother—the week he first came home, the mischief they got into, and the last time they saw each other. He wondered if the tooth Zodiac had lost had grown back by then. Miko listened eagerly, wishing she could meet the adorable boy in person someday. Before long, they had swapped numbers and promised to keep in touch.

Saeda sighed for the fifth time, her gaze fixed on the view beyond the jet window.

“Are you alright?” Zod asked gently.

“Yeah,” she replied, though her voice lacked any real life.

The thought of the Witch of the West made her question whether she even wanted to return home. She longed to see her mother—her real mother—before time ran out. And her room… she hoped it was untouched. That witch had better not have laid a finger on her things. Or else.

Kie leaned back in his seat, eyes half-closed as he enjoyed the cool air conditioning. He remembered how suffocating his dorm room could feel during the hotter days, the weak overhead fans doing little to help. Quietly, he listened to Zod talk about his brother.

Kie had a brother too—an older one. If he was still alive, Kie had no desire to see him. Not after the trust he had shattered. The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth. Honestly, he would rather spend the two weeks alone in a small apartment than reopen that wound.

ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ )

Volume 1 is almost complete.