The thing in the tunnel grinned, Mu Chen's name still hanging in the air. "Found you," it said again. Its voice was all wrong, sounding close yet hollow, like it knew the shape of a human voice but not the feeling behind it. No warmth, no breath, just sound molded to hit the right spot.
Mu Chen felt Ye Fan's hand grip his forearm, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to ground him. It was a protective, tactical hold, and way too personal for Mu Chen to pretend he didn't feel it. The rest of the team had noticed too. Zhou Xiao's eyes flicked down for a second to Ye Fan's hand, then back to the thing in the tunnel. Lin Lan didn't look up from her tablet, but Mu Chen knew she'd seen it – Lin Lan missed nothing.
The creature stepped further into the broken station light. From a distance, it looked human. Up close, its face was a mess of wrong details: a mouth too wide, skin stretched too smooth over a shape that didn't quite fit. Its eyes were dark and wet, like tunnel water. It wore something that looked like a uniform, not theirs, but something copied from memory, built from fear and old authority.
"I really hate this gate," Zhou Xiao muttered.
Lin Lan's voice was flat. "Don't let it speak."
The creature tilted its head, then fixed its gaze back on Mu Chen. "You were easier to move when you were younger," it said.
For a split second, the station vanished from Mu Chen's mind. He saw a narrow hallway, old yellow lights, a thin mattress, metal bed rails, and a woman with tired hands telling him to stay still. The flash was less than a second, but it was enough. Mu Chen's breathing changed, barely audible.
Ye Fan felt it. Mu Chen knew because Ye Fan's entire body shifted towards him, like a weapon turning to face the real threat.
The creature smiled wider. "There," it said softly. "That worked."
Ye Fan let go of Mu Chen's arm, stepping forward to put himself between Mu Chen and the tunnel. His voice was ice cold. "Try speaking again."
The creature looked delighted, which was worse than anger. A gate that enjoyed reactions was far more dangerous than one that just killed.
"No conversation. Core first," Lin Lan snapped. She was right. Of course, she was right. But the station had shifted around them. The pressure in the tunnels had deepened, thickening under their skin. Mu Chen could feel the gate studying them, adjusting in real time. This creature wasn't random; it was a lure, a probe, a blade designed to fit whatever hurt them.
Ye Fan kept his eyes locked on the creature. "Mu Chen. Back."
Mu Chen should have moved immediately. Instead, he said, quiet and steady, "It's aiming for memory."
Zhou Xiao gave him a look that was both obvious and unbearable. The creature laughed, the sound echoing down both tunnels. "Memory," it repeated. "Need. Hunger. Waiting." It took another step and looked at Ye Fan. "And you," it said, "are loud."
Mu Chen saw the hit land, not because Ye Fan flinched – he didn't – but because the line of his shoulders tightened by an impossible degree. Too sharp, too open, too easily struck by anything that reached for the shape of what he was built to hide.
The creature spread its arms slightly. "I know both of you now." Then it moved. Fast. Not at Ye Fan. At Mu Chen.
Ye Fan reacted instantly. His knife flashed, a silver line through the dark. The creature twisted, half-avoiding the strike in a way no normal gate construct should have managed. Zhou Xiao fired. Lin Lan threw a flash pulse into the tunnel mouth. The whole platform erupted into action.
Mu Chen stepped back, then sideways, half-obeying Ye Fan's order by staying within the space Ye Fan controlled, close enough to be reached. The creature split into two shapes for an impossible second – not duplication, but an afterimage, mental interference. Zhou Xiao swore and fired at the wrong one.
"Left!" Lin Lan shouted.
Ye Fan moved with brutal precision, cutting the real one across the chest. Black fluid sprayed onto the tiles, smoking. The creature hissed and stumbled back, but instead of retreating, it laughed again. "Look how fast he turns when I say your name," it told Mu Chen.
The words hit the whole team. Zhou Xiao's eyes widened. Lin Lan's face shut down, unreadable. Mu Chen felt heat crawl up his neck. Because it was true. Because it was said aloud. Because everything dangerous between him and Ye Fan had just been dragged into the station air and made visible.
Ye Fan's voice turned deadly quiet. "I said stop speaking." He crossed the distance in two steps. The creature lunged too. They collided in a blur too fast to follow cleanly – knife, claws, boots sliding on broken concrete. The station lights flickered hard overhead, and Mu Chen felt the gate pressure spike. Too much.
Ye Fan had the upper hand, but the gate was changing around them too quickly. Every time the creature moved, the platform hummed in response. The walls were tied to it somehow.
"The core's close—really close—but it's braided into the structure," Lin Lan said, checking readings while backing toward a support pillar.
"Can we break it?" Zhou Xiao asked, firing down another crawler.
"Not without collapsing part of the platform," Lin Lan snapped back.
Ye Fan drove the creature into a cracked station wall, shaking dust from the ceiling. Mu Chen felt something shift under the tiles, not movement, but alignment, like the whole gate had found its pressure point. The lights above dimmed at once. The station sound changed from tunnel noise to a soft system tone, a chime. Then an artificial female voice spoke from unseen speakers. "Pairing review in progress."
Everyone froze for half a second. Mu Chen's blood ran cold. The gate had absorbed enough institute language to weaponize it. The female voice continued, gentle, clear, and monstrous. "Guide subject unstable under separated conditions. Recommend close authority placement."
The creature laughed, pinned under Ye Fan's knife. "There," it whispered. "That sounds right, doesn't it?"
Ye Fan's control did something dangerous then. It didn't break; it condensed. All the heat, rage, and violent refusal compressed until Mu Chen could feel it radiating off him like invisible pressure. Ye Fan shoved the knife deeper, eyes black with anger. "You don't get to say that."
The creature smiled right through the wound. "But they already did," it said.
Mu Chen moved before thinking. He stepped toward Ye Fan. "Mu Chen—" Lin Lan started, but it was too late. Mu Chen crossed the last bit of distance and placed one gloved hand flat against Ye Fan's back. It wasn't subtle, tactical, or deniable. The effect was immediate. Ye Fan's body went rigid for a shocked instant, then steadied under Mu Chen's palm as the pressure within him smoothed out. Not erased, never erased, but drawn into a shape that would hold.
The station lights flickered again. The female voice overhead stuttered. The creature's smile faltered. Mu Chen felt it. The gate had tied itself to the instability it fed on. By calming Ye Fan, even slightly, Mu Chen had disrupted the loop.
"Now!" Lin Lan saw it too.
Ye Fan moved. This time, there was no wasted motion. He tore the knife free and cut upward in one brutal strike, splitting the creature from throat to brow. It collapsed backward in a spray of black light and sound, its body dissolving before it hit the ground.
The platform shook. "Core's under the center line—three meters down!" Lin Lan shouted over the noise. Zhou Xiao pivoted, firing at the cracked tiles. Concrete burst, metal shrieked. Another wave of small tunnel monsters rushed up from both sides.
Ye Fan turned, his hand snapping back to catch Mu Chen's wrist. He pulled him in close, not behind him now, but with him, into the narrow space he was holding at the center of the platform. "Stay," Ye Fan said, the word raw.
Mu Chen didn't answer, too aware of the wrist grip, too aware that Ye Fan hadn't let go even after the worst moment had passed. Together. That's how they fought the next thirty seconds. Not by plan, not by protocol, but by instinct. Ye Fan cut down anything that got close. Mu Chen kept one hand on Ye Fan when the pressure surged and dropped it when eyes turned toward them. Zhou Xiao covered the flanks with fast, efficient shots. Lin Lan barked updates from the edge of the platform, tracing energy movement through the collapsing structure.
The center tiles broke open with a groan. Below, lodged in a nest of twisted cables and black glass, the core pulsed. It looked less like a stone and more like a machine's heart: wet, bright, wrong. "There!" Lin Lan pointed.
Ye Fan let go of Mu Chen's wrist only long enough to move. Mu Chen hated the loss of contact so immediately it almost shocked him. Ye Fan jumped into the broken center section, landed on one knee among sparks and shattered tile, and drove his knife down toward the core.
The platform screamed. The female voice overhead returned in a broken loop. "Authority—review—in progress—close placement—approved—approved—" Mu Chen's skin crawled. "Just kill it!" Zhou Xiao shouted.
Ye Fan struck the core. Once. Twice. On the third hit, it cracked. And when it cracked, the whole station vomited memory. Not images, not sounds, but feeling. Loneliness so deep it felt structural. Hunger. Waiting. Being chosen second, third, not at all. Hands on your shoulders telling you to be still. A file with your name on it before anyone knew your face.
Mu Chen staggered. So did Ye Fan. For one impossible second, they were both hit by the same wave of old pain, institutional language, and unchosen childhood. Mu Chen saw Ye Fan look up through it. Their eyes met across the broken center of the platform. Everything in the station dropped away. No team. No mission. No gate. Only that look. Ye Fan looked at him like he'd been trying not to understand something for too long and suddenly couldn't deny it anymore.
Mu Chen moved without deciding to. He stepped onto the broken edge, reached down, and caught Ye Fan's shoulder. Ye Fan rose at the same time, one hand closing hard around Mu Chen's waist to steady them both as the platform lurched under another shockwave. The contact hit like electricity. Not because of power, but because of body. Because Mu Chen had never been held there by anyone. Because Ye Fan's hand fit too well. For one suspended heartbeat, they were far too close, balanced at the edge of the shattered platform with the dying gate screaming around them.
"Move!" Zhou Xiao's voice cut through everything. The spell broke. Ye Fan shoved Mu Chen back toward solid ground and ripped the core free with his other hand. It pulsed once in his grip. Then he crushed it.
The station exploded into noise. The tunnels folded inward. Lights burst overhead. Concrete split. Lin Lan was already running for the exit tear opening at the far end of the platform. Zhou Xiao grabbed her elbow and dragged her over fallen metal. Mu Chen turned to follow, but the floor buckled and dropped. He lost footing. For one sharp instant, there was only air under one boot.
Then Ye Fan caught him. Not wrist. Not sleeve. Waist. Pulled hard, fast, possessive, full-body close. Mu Chen collided against him, feeling the impact through ribs and breath and every place he'd been trying too hard not to notice. Ye Fan's arm locked around him. "Move," Ye Fan said into his ear, voice rough.
Mu Chen nodded once, speech impossible. They ran. Not side by side, but practically joined. The exit tore wider ahead. Lin Lan went through first. Zhou Xiao behind her. Ye Fan kept one hand at Mu Chen's back all the way to the threshold and shoved him through ahead of himself.
The world snapped. Cold night air. Floodlights. Concrete. Humans shouting. They were out. Base staff rushed in, scanners up, med teams already moving toward them. Ye Fan's hand left Mu Chen's back only when other people got too close. The loss felt immediate.
Mu Chen took one breath. Then another. Across the bright operational chaos, Zhou Xiao was arguing with a tech. Lin Lan was already lying into a recorder with perfect calm. Luo Wei strode toward them with command in every line of her body. But before anyone reached them, Ye Fan turned to Mu Chen. Just for a second. His eyes dropped once to Mu Chen's waist—where his hand had been—then back up to his face. No words. None possible. There was too much in that look anyway. Relief. Fury. Claim. And something closer to fear than Mu Chen had ever seen from him.
Then Luo Wei arrived, and the moment was gone. "Report," she said. Ye Fan's face shuttered at once. Mu Chen lowered his eyes and forced his breathing even. Team tension, he thought dully. That was what the file would probably call it. Not the gate saying his name. Not Ye Fan turning like instinct. Not the hand at his waist. Not the way they had looked at each other over the breaking heart of the station like the whole world had narrowed to one point. Team tension. The system always had smaller words for things that could destroy it.