The silence in the dropship was different now.
It wasn't tense.
It was suffocating.
Kael lay unconscious, strapped to a gurney surrounded by med equipment, oxygen masks, bleeding from places the body wasn't supposed to bleed. His face had turned gray. His lips were blue. His chest heaved like someone gasping from under rubble.
Tyren sat next to him, staring at nothing, fists clenched until his knuckles turned white. A storm was building behind his eyes.
No one spoke.
Not even the soldiers who had held them down.
Not even the ones who beat Kael unconscious.
They had done their job. Followed orders. Nothing more.
That made it worse.
---
Vireya sat strapped in across the bay, her hands trembling on her lap, eyes puffy, face pale. Her heart felt like it had been crushed inside her chest. She had asked them to stop. She thought her voice mattered.
But she never screamed.
She never stepped forward.
She never stood in front of him when he needed it most.
Now… Kael looked like a corpse on a slab of steel.
The love she once claimed—the man she had betrayed for ambition—was now nearly dead because she couldn't find the strength to act.
> "I'm sorry, Kael…" she whispered, "I was… scared."
She didn't know if he could hear her.
She didn't even know if he was still there.
---
Oris sat farther in the back of the ship, eyes locked on the floor. His fingers tapped aimlessly on his leg—an old habit from before his mind started spiraling.
He kept replaying the fight in his head.
> "Anchor."
"Burden."
"Why do we still follow him?"
He had said those things.
All of them.
And worse.
And now?
He'd watched his commander—his brother—get torn down like a rabid dog, and he did nothing but blink.
The mecha mechanic. The "brains" of the group. The one who always thought ten steps ahead…
> …and yet he didn't see the one step that mattered.
Did he really believe Kael could take it?
Did he think Kael was invincible?
Or did he just get tired of watching Kael be stronger than him?
> "This is on me…" Oris whispered, so quietly even he could barely hear it.
---
Lisette sat frozen beside Freya and Kira. The three girls looked like ghosts now—drained of all energy. No tears left to cry. Only questions with no answers.
Lisette stared at the blood still staining her gloves.
She had been close enough.
She could've shouted.
She could've thrown herself between Kael and the attackers.
Even screamed his name.
But she did none of that.
> "Why was I so scared…?"
She remembered Kael's face when he collapsed.
Not in pain.
Not in fear.
Just betrayed.
Freya hadn't spoken a word since the punch landed across Kael's face and blood spattered across her boots.
And Kira… had shut her eyes the entire time. As if pretending it wasn't real would erase it.
None of it helped.
---
Tyren, though, was still watching.
Still shaking.
Still whispering words that could shatter glass.
He hadn't stopped looking at Kael since the assault. The gurney now looked more like a coffin, and Kael looked smaller on it somehow. The medics said he might not survive.
And Tyren believed them.
But more than fear…
He felt rage.
Boiling, unfiltered, soul-ripping rage.
---
> "You all watched him die."
His head turned slightly. His voice was just loud enough to cut through the ship's steady hum.
No one answered.
> "Not one of you lifted a hand when they beat him to the ground."
Still nothing.
> "You think standing in the back makes you clean? You're as bloody as the bastards who hit him."
Vireya shook her head slowly. "I didn't think it would—"
> "YOU DIDN'T THINK AT ALL."
His voice cracked. It didn't sound angry anymore. It sounded broken.
> "You were supposed to know him. Love him, even. And you let them break him."
Vireya's eyes watered again. Her throat locked up. No excuse could come out. No words. Not even breath.
Tyren looked to Oris next.
> "You—you should've been first. You said he was family. You were the only one who could've stopped it. But you were too busy calling him dead weight."
Oris closed his eyes.
And finally—finally—said nothing to defend himself.
> "He fought with us through everything. Every mission. Every betrayal. Every time the system failed us, he stood up. And when he needed us most…"
Tyren's voice faded.
> "…we let him fall."
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, eyes red. "I swear to you," he said softly. "If Kael doesn't wake up… I'll make every last person on that goddamn battleship regret breathing."
---
And then the ship landed.
---
Sovereign Dawn — Arrival Bay 9
The ramp dropped. Cold steel. Armed guards.
Commanders in dark gray coats stood waiting, unreadable expressions on their faces.
Kael was wheeled out like freight.
His oxygen tank beeped softly. His arms were still strapped down. His fingers didn't move.
And then—
"Unit 404, you're under detainment for evaluation."
The words landed like gunfire.
"What?!" Oris stepped forward. "We're rescued, not detained—!"
"You brought back a dangerous liability." The officer didn't even flinch. "That one—" he pointed at Kael, "is flagged red under high-risk tags. Protocol says he goes into solitary medical evaluation."
"You're locking him in a prison cell?! He's not even awake!"
"He's unstable."
"No—YOU'RE unstable," Tyren snapped. "Do you even know what he's done for this galaxy? What he's survived?!"
"Take the second one too," the officer ordered. "He's already a threat."
"What?!" Tyren backed up. "You're not locking me up! I'm not leaving Kael alone in that box!"
Six soldiers moved in.
Tyren didn't resist. He simply shook his head and stared coldly into Vireya's eyes.
> "You think this is justice?" he whispered.
"This is a massacre in slow motion."
---
Steel doors slammed.
Kael was taken to the medical detention block—a reinforced chamber with no visitors.
Tyren was thrown into a solitary cell, blood still drying on his shirt.
> The war was over… and still, they were prisoners.
He sat back against the cold wall and stared at nothing.
And in the next cell over, Kael didn't move.
Didn't twitch.
Didn't speak.
But in his dreams…
He saw Ravager burning.
He saw soldiers beating him.
He saw all their faces.
And when his eyes fluttered—just for a second—he remembered:
> They left me.
And the fire in his soul did not die.
It simply waited.