The door to Kael Ardent's room had barely closed behind him when his comm lit up.
Not a message.
Not a notification.
A direct call.
He didn't even have to look at the ID.
"…this should be good," Kael muttered under his breath, already lifting the device.
The screen flickered once—
then resolved into Krysta Benton's face.
For half a second, Kael's usual expression—half-smirk, half-trouble—started to form.
He opened his mouth.
Probably to say something reckless.
Something teasing.
Something guaranteed to annoy her.
Then he saw her properly.
And stopped.
Krysta wasn't smiling.
She wasn't irritated.
She wasn't rolling her eyes or preparing a comeback.
She looked—
worried.
Not the loud kind.
Not dramatic.
Quiet.
Controlled.
The kind that settled behind the eyes and stayed there.
Kael exhaled softly.
"…I'm okay," he said before she could speak. "Just bruised."
Krysta didn't respond immediately.
She studied him.
Carefully.
Like she was running a scan without equipment.
"Show me your side," she said.
No hesitation.
No softness in the command.
Kael sighed.
"…you're not even going to pretend to believe me?"
"No."
He almost smiled at that.
Almost.
Instead, he reached for the hem of his shirt and lifted it just enough to expose his side.
The bruising had darkened.
Spread wider than it had when he first checked it.
A deep, ugly gradient of impact where the blast had caught him before he'd cleared the mech.
Krysta's expression didn't change.
But her eyes sharpened.
"That still looks bad."
"I've had worse."
"That's not the point."
Kael dropped the shirt.
"I went to medbay."
The door behind Krysta slid open.
Cassian stepped into frame like he had been waiting just out of view.
"Did you go to medbay?" he asked immediately.
Kael didn't even blink.
"I literally just said that."
Cassian ignored him.
"When?"
"The minute we got here," Kael replied. "They dragged us in before we could even argue."
"That sounds accurate," Cassian muttered.
He folded his arms, looking Kael over with a level of scrutiny that was annoyingly similar to Krysta's.
Then his expression shifted.
Not to anger.
Not exactly.
Something closer to restrained relief.
"You were gone for almost twenty hours, Caleb."
The name landed differently.
Here—
it always did.
Kael didn't answer immediately.
"…yeah," he said finally.
Cassian shook his head once.
"Don't do that again."
Kael huffed quietly.
"I'll try to schedule my near-death experiences better next time."
Krysta didn't laugh.
Cassian didn't either.
That was how he knew they were actually worried.
Cassian turned his head slightly, already stepping back.
"Mom. Dad. Caleb's here."
Kael groaned under his breath.
"…you just had to escalate it."
Krysta's lips twitched faintly.
"Consequences."
Kael leaned back slightly against the wall behind him, bracing himself as footsteps approached on the other side of the call.
The conversation that followed wasn't long.
It didn't need to be.
Questions.
Confirmation.
More quiet checking than loud reactions.
Their mother's voice—steady, controlled, but carrying something deeper beneath it.
Their father—less words, more silence, the kind that weighed more than anything said.
Kael answered.
Deflected when he could.
Didn't when he couldn't.
And at some point, without anyone explicitly saying it, the tension eased.
Not gone.
But… settled.
Krysta noticed it first.
Her gaze flicked over him once more.
Then she exhaled.
"You look tired."
Kael blinked.
"…I was trapped in a mech for half a day."
"Yes," she said flatly. "That would do it."
Cassian nodded toward the back of the room.
"Go to bed."
Kael pushed off the wall.
"That's the plan."
Krysta tilted her head slightly.
"Check your secured mail when you wake up."
Kael narrowed his eyes.
"…should I be concerned?"
"Yes."
"…good."
That earned him a small, genuine smile.
The call ended.
And just like that—
the room was quiet again.
Kael stood there for a moment.
Still.
Alone.
The silence felt different now.
Not heavy.
Not empty.
Just—
present.
He exhaled once, then pushed himself toward the shower.
Hot water hit his skin, and for the first time since the fight, since the mech, since the cockpit—
his body actually started to relax.
Muscles unwound.
Tension eased.
The lingering edge of adrenaline finally began to fade.
But something else remained.
Not pain.
Not exhaustion.
Something—
missing.
He couldn't name it.
Didn't try to.
Not yet.
The water ran longer than it needed to.
When he finally stepped out, the room had dimmed into evening light, the soft glow from outside filtering through the window and reflecting faintly across the mirror.
Kael grabbed a towel, dragging it lazily through his hair as he passed—
then stopped.
The mark.
He turned back slowly.
Stepped closer.
The mirror caught him fully now.
Water still trailing down his skin, hair damp, expression quieter than usual.
And there—
at the base of his neck, along the line of his shoulder—
the mark.
Clear.
Undeniable.
The scar that had always been there—
changed.
Not gone.
Not replaced.
But… different.
The starburst pattern had shifted subtly, its edges no longer just remnants of old damage.
Now it aligned.
Perfectly.
With something new.
Kael lifted his hand slowly, fingers brushing just beneath it.
He could still feel it.
Not physically.
Not like pain.
Something deeper.
The bond.
A faint pulse.
A connection that didn't need distance to exist.
His lips curved.
Slow.
Uncontrolled.
"…well," he murmured.
"That explains a lot."
For the first time in three years—
things made sense.
Why certain instincts never felt random.
Why certain reactions never felt optional.
Why—
Ryven.
Always Ryven.
Kael huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head once before stepping away from the mirror.
"Of course it's him."
Like there had ever been another option.
He dropped onto his bed a few minutes later.
Fully intending to sleep.
Fully expecting his body to shut down the second he hit the mattress.
It didn't.
He stared at the ceiling.
Minutes passed.
Then more.
The exhaustion was there.
Heavy.
Real.
But sleep—
wouldn't come.
Kael shifted once, rolling onto his side.
Then onto his back again.
Then sat up.
"…you've got to be kidding me."
He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly.
That feeling again.
Not pain.
Not discomfort.
Absence.
Like something that should be there—
wasn't.
And his mind—
without permission—
filled in the gap.
Ryven.
The cockpit.
The heat.
The silence.
The way everything had—
aligned.
Kael dropped his head back against the wall behind him.
"…seriously?"
He stared at the datapad on the table.
Then at the ceiling again.
Then back at the datapad.
"…fine."
He reached for it.
Opened the secured channel.
And there it was.
Krysta.
Of course it was.
A file.
Encrypted.
Clean.
Efficient.
He opened it.
And grinned immediately.
"Still the best," he muttered.
Arena override codes.
All of them.
Every system.
Every lock.
Every restriction.
Bypassed.
Crucible included.
Kael scrolled.
Already impressed.
Already planning.
Then—
he saw the last line.
And froze.
"I hacked your dorm AI sentry and camera systems."
A pause.
Then—
"You can freely sneak into Ryven's room from 2200 to 0600 without detection."
Kael blinked once.
Then—
slowly—
smiled.
Wide.
Dangerous.
"Good girl," he said under his breath.
"You know me best."
He checked the time.
Perfect.
Of course it was perfect.
Krysta didn't do anything halfway.
Kael stood.
Already moving.
Already decided.
Because whatever that feeling was—
that missing piece—
he knew exactly where to find it.
The hallway outside his room was quiet.
Late enough that most cadets had either collapsed into sleep or were too smart to be wandering around.
Kael moved easily.
No hesitation.
No noise.
The override worked exactly as expected.
Sensors didn't react.
Cameras didn't track.
Systems didn't flag movement.
It was like walking through a blind spot that only existed for him.
He reached the door.
Ryven's room.
Paused.
Just for a second.
Not uncertainty.
Awareness.
Then—
knocked.
Once.
Light.
Deliberate.
And waited.