Stepping back onto the unit floor, Mu Chen found the room blindingly bright. Not because the lights had changed, but because he'd just come from a place where people smiled while trying to rip things out of him.
The second Zhou Xiao saw Mu Chen, he stood up. "How bad?"
Lin Lan answered before Mu Chen could, "Normal bad."
Zhou Xiao winced. "So, really bad."
Mu Chen sank onto the edge of the ready room table, his knees not trusting him to stand for long. It wasn't that they were weak, but his body had been still for ages while his mind did all the heavy lifting.
Ye Fan walked in from the hall and stopped dead when he saw Mu Chen. Mu Chen looked up. For a fleeting second, the whole room felt hushed. Ye Fan's eyes scanned him – face, hands, posture – like he was checking for hidden injuries. "What did they do?"
Lin Lan replied flatly, "Talked. Prodded. Tried to mess with the room."
Ye Fan's jaw tightened. He looked at Mu Chen. "Did they touch you?"
Mu Chen shook his head. "No." It was true enough. They'd touched his memories, his fears, the edges of his obedience, but not his skin.
Ye Fan held his gaze for another second, then turned away abruptly, like he needed to move before he said something he'd regret.
Colonel Luo Wei entered soon after and looked at Lin Lan. "Report."
Lin Lan held up her tablet. "Officially, a routine follow-up. Unofficially, behavior shaping and response mapping. They used memory triggers."
Luo Wei's face remained calm, but her eyes didn't. "Did he break?"
Lin Lan glanced at Mu Chen. "No."
Luo Wei gave a single nod. It wasn't praise, just an update filed away in her mind. "Good," she said. "Because they're not finished."
A chill slithered down Mu Chen's spine. Luo Wei looked at him directly. "You did well."
Mu Chen blinked. That simple sentence hit him harder than he expected. Not because it was kind, but because it was rare. "Thank you, ma'am," he managed.
Luo Wei then turned to Ye Fan. "Your stability review is tomorrow."
The room fell silent. Zhou Xiao stared at the floor. Lin Lan tightened her grip on her tablet. Ye Fan's face, already controlled, became even more so, signaling he was angry enough to smash something. "Yes, ma'am," he said.
Luo Wei held his gaze. "Don't give them a show." Ye Fan didn't respond. Luo Wei left.
The room seemed to exhale. Mu Chen sat there for a moment, listening to the small sounds of the unit floor – the kettle clicking on, a chair scraping, a distant door closing. Normal noise. It should have been comforting, but instead, Mu Chen craved silence. Real silence, the kind he only found deep within himself.
He stood and walked towards his divider. Ye Fan's voice stopped him. "Mu Chen."
Mu Chen turned. Ye Fan stood by the lockers, hands at his sides, his expression hard. "Come here," Ye Fan said.
Lin Lan looked up. Zhou Xiao pointedly didn't. Mu Chen walked over. Ye Fan didn't step closer this time, just looked at him. "What did they show you?"
Mu Chen kept his voice steady. "Old rooms. Old lights. Things they thought would matter."
Ye Fan's gaze sharpened. "Did it work?"
Mu Chen paused, then answered honestly. "A little."
Ye Fan's jaw flexed. Mu Chen watched him and understood. Ye Fan wanted details, names, something to direct his anger at. Mu Chen was too drained to give him any of it. "They showed me things from before," Mu Chen said quietly. "Then they showed me you."
Ye Fan froze. The air around him changed, becoming sharper, not bigger. "What?" Ye Fan asked.
Mu Chen kept his face blank. "Mission footage. Readings. Questions about compatibility."
Ye Fan's eyes darkened. "What did you say?"
"The truth," Mu Chen said.
Ye Fan stared. Mu Chen let the silence stretch for a beat, then added, "I said I'm not assigned to you."
Ye Fan's expression didn't soften, but something in his shoulders eased almost imperceptibly, as if that answer mattered more than it should have.
Zhou Xiao suddenly stood up. "I'm getting food." No one stopped him. Lin Lan looked at her tablet and murmured, to no one in particular, "I have uploads." Then she, too, left. The room emptied around them.
Ye Fan lowered his voice. "Tomorrow they'll do the same to me." Mu Chen knew. He looked at Ye Fan and said softly, "I know."
Ye Fan's mouth tightened. "I'm worse at it." Mu Chen blinked. That wasn't something Ye Fan would admit easily. Ye Fan looked away, as if regretting it already. "They know where to push." Mu Chen understood that too. Military child. A-class sentinel. Raised by command, measured by output. The institute wouldn't need to search for Ye Fan's weak points; they'd helped create them.
Mu Chen's voice remained quiet. "Then don't give them your anger."
Ye Fan let out a short breath. "That's easy for you to say." Mu Chen thought of the warm room, the yellow hallway, the restraint chair hidden in the wall. "No," Mu Chen said. "It isn't."
Ye Fan looked back at him. For a long second, they just stood there under the cold lights. Then Ye Fan said, harsh because soft would have been too much, "If they try to use you again—"
Mu Chen cut in gently. "They will."
Ye Fan's jaw clenched.
Mu Chen continued, "So stay calm. That will hurt them more."
That made something shift in Ye Fan's face. Not a smile, but almost one, gone too fast to catch. Ye Fan looked at him as if he'd never expected those words from a quiet C-class guide with a blank emergency contact. Then he said, low, rough, honest in a way he probably didn't intend, "You're too quiet."
Mu Chen answered, "You're too loud."
A beat of silence. Then Ye Fan looked away first. "Go rest," he said. Mu Chen nodded and returned to his divider. He sat on the bed and stared at the lamp. Noise and silence. The base was full of one. Mu Chen was full of the other. And somehow, somewhere between them, Ye Fan had begun to hear the silence as clearly as Mu Chen heard the noise.