(POV: Amelia)
The briefing room felt warmer than usual.
Or maybe it wasn't the room. Maybe it was me—still unable to fully shake off the tension from the flight earlier. It clung to my shoulders like something invisible but persistent.
My body was back on the ground.
But my mind… hadn't quite followed.
It was still up there in the sky. In that moment when the Atlas nearly slipped out of control. When I had to choose—fight it… or let the current take over.
I stood in front of the screen, the pointer in my hand moving steadily as the data shifted from one slide to the next. Graphs. Numbers. Flight paths.
Things that could be explained. Things that didn't require emotion.
This was where I felt safe.
"Crosswind in sector three increased faster than initial projections," I said, keeping my voice steady and measured. "Correction was applied at eighteen thousand feet. No significant deviation afterward."
My voice sounded calm.
Much too calm for what had almost happened.
Considering how close everything had come to slipping apart.
But there was no need to say it out loud. Everyone in this room was experienced enough to read between the lines.
I clicked the remote. The next slide appeared.
"Payload was delivered on schedule. Communication systems at the forward base are now active and functioning normally."
I paused briefly.
Then, without really thinking, I brushed my fingers against the edge of the table. There was a small scratch there—old, insignificant.
Still, I traced it for a second before pulling my hand away.
"Report complete."
Silence followed.
"Good recovery."
The voice came from behind me. Calm. Deep. Effortless.
I didn't turn right away.
I already knew.
Rhys Cavanaugh.
Ten years—and his voice hadn't changed.
I turned slowly.
He stood near the door, posture straight, uniform flawless. Time had left only subtle marks—slightly deeper lines, a hint of gray at his temples.
But his gaze was the same.
Sharp. And far too… personal.
"Thank you, sir," I said, choosing the safest tone. Professional. Controlled.
He gave a small nod. "Not every pilot could've maintained control under those conditions."
I held the pause for half a second. "It's part of the job, sir."
A little too neat. Too neat.
The corner of his mouth shifted slightly. "You wouldn't have answered like that before."
My jaw tightened. "I was a cadet back then."
He stepped a little closer. Not crossing the line—but close enough to feel it.
"And now," he said quietly, "you're not."
The meaning was clear.
Too clear.
And I didn't want to think about it.
**Cranwell. Graduation day.**
The sky had been too bright. Too clear for something that felt like an ending.
"Thorne."
I turned.
"You're going to be an exceptional pilot," he said.
I nodded. "Thank you, sir."
He shook his head slightly. "That's not what I meant."
He stepped closer.
"If you want… you could be assigned to the same unit as me."
I knew exactly what he meant.
And that was what made it harder.
"Amelia." My name sounded different when he said it. "I don't want this to end here."
My heartbeat picked up.
"I'm sorry, sir."
Silence.
"Because of your career?"
I shook my head.
"Because you've already chosen another path."
I didn't answer.
I didn't need to.
"Dawson."
The name settled between us.
I gave a small nod.
"Rhys…" I looked at him. "There's someone who's been watching you."
A slight frown.
"Scarlett."
No denial.
That was enough.
I came back to the present.
To the room. To now.
I reached for the file on the table, creating the distance I needed. "I'll submit the written report within the hour, sir."
He nodded.
I turned—
and the door opened.
"Hope I'm not late."
The air in the room shifted instantly.
I didn't need to look.
Kai.
My body reacted before my thoughts could catch up.
Ten years… and still, nothing had really changed.
I turned anyway.
He stood at the doorway, his gaze sweeping across the room before landing on me.
Just for a second.
But it was enough.
He stepped inside, casual as ever.
"Dawson," Rhys said, voice cool again. "You're late."
"Still within tolerance, sir."
Same tone. Light. Almost careless.
Kai moved to the side of the room. Not too close.
But close enough.
Always like that.
The door opened again.
Scarlett entered, calm and composed. Her gaze moved across the room—me, Kai, then Rhys.
And paused.
Just briefly.
Almost invisible.
But I saw it.
She looked away. "Apologies. Additional intel just came in."
The lights dimmed.
A map appeared on the screen. Red dots scattered—organized, not random.
"The device we delivered is active," Scarlett said. "And it's triggered a shift in communication patterns."
I frowned. "What kind of shift?"
"Increased frequency. Faster transmissions. More synchronized."
Kai narrowed his eyes. "They know we're there."
"More than that."
Scarlett tapped the screen.
**Black Viper.**
The name appeared.
And the atmosphere changed instantly.
"They're not official military," she continued. "But they're not just rebels either."
Silence.
"They move like shadows."
I stared at the screen. Something about the pattern felt off.
"They're preparing," Scarlett said quietly. "And they don't want to destroy the base."
Kai frowned. "Then what?"
"They want control."
The silence turned heavy.
"If they succeed," she continued, "they can read our movements. Disrupt coordination. Even send false signals."
Rhys stepped closer to the screen. "That base will become the center of upcoming operations."
And just like that—it all made sense.
This wasn't just a mission anymore.
It was about control—about information.
And in our world…
that meant everything.
"So we're going back," Kai said.
"Yes," Scarlett replied. "And this time, we're not just delivering."
Rhys looked at each of us in turn.
"You're all going back."
Silence.
I nodded.
Not because I was ready.
But because this wasn't about readiness.
This was duty.
And duty never waits.
I didn't look at anyone.
Not Kai. Not Rhys. Not Scarlett.
Four people. Four pasts. One point.
And a mission that left no room for mistakes.
I stared at the screen.
The red dots blinked steadily.
Like something alive.
And for the first time—
I wasn't sure what was more dangerous.
What was out there…
or what was standing in this room with me.