The cave was quiet.
Not the kind of quiet where you rest — but the kind where breath feels like betrayal, and even the fire dares not crackle too loud.
Kael had woken up at dawn — or what passed for dawn on this dim, sunless planet — but hadn't said a single word.
Not to Oris.
Not to Tyren.
Not even a glance toward the girls or the old men.
He simply opened his eyes, blinked twice, and walked slowly toward the far end of the cave.
Then sat down. Back to the wall. Arms resting on his knees. Staring into the mist just outside the entrance, eyes blank.
Like a ghost still deciding if it wanted to return to life.
---
"Kael…" Oris crouched beside him, a data tablet in hand.
No response.
"You okay? You remember what happened out there?"
Kael didn't even blink.
Oris frowned. "You—uh—you collapsed. Radiation exposure. We brought you back. You've been out for nearly three cycles."
Still nothing.
Finally, Oris leaned forward.
"Say something."
Kael turned his head, just slightly.
And then whispered, "I'm done."
---
Tyren heard it from across the cave.
He didn't laugh, or mock, or shout like he normally might.
He just nodded grimly, as if hearing something he already knew.
"He's right," Tyren said.
Oris spun toward him. "You too?"
Tyren leaned back against the cold wall. "Why the hell are we still fighting, Oris?"
"Because we have to—"
"No," Tyren cut him off. "We don't. Let me remind you what happens even if we get off this death rock: we go back to a system that tossed us into space like garbage. We get ignored. Maybe arrested again. Maybe spaced this time instead of reassigned."
Oris opened his mouth, then shut it.
Because… he didn't have a real argument.
---
Lisette had been listening from the corner.
She looked at Freya, then Kira.
All three had seen it — Kael's silent breakdown, Tyren's bitterness, and now Oris's hesitation.
"What do we do?" Lisette whispered.
"They're falling apart," Kira said.
"They were already broken," Freya replied. "We just didn't see it."
---
Outside the cave, Trask and Draan were seated near the Ravager — again studying its unique armor, perhaps for distraction, perhaps for meaning.
Lisette stepped out and approached them, arms folded tightly.
"I heard you two talking about Kael's past," she said. "About his missions. His records."
Trask gave her a look. "So?"
"Is it true?" she pressed. "Was he really that good?"
"Good?" Draan scoffed. "He wasn't good. He was terrifying. There were commanders who refused to be stationed in the same zone as him because it made them look like children on the battlefield."
Lisette's eyes widened. "So… how could the higher-ups just…"
"Politics," Trask said flatly. "The kind that values obedience over brilliance. Kael was dangerous not because of what he did — but because no one could control him."
Lisette sat down beside them, fists clenched. "It's disgusting. They built him into a weapon and then tossed him out when he wouldn't bend."
"Exactly," Draan nodded. "And now? He's just… tired."
---
Inside, Tyren sharpened his boot knife with rhythmic precision, staring at the blade like it could carve away his own exhaustion.
Kira walked over and sat beside him.
"Are you giving up too?"
He didn't look at her.
"I'm surviving," he said. "That's more honest than pretending I want to help people who hate me."
"You're not helping them," she said gently. "You'd be helping us."
Tyren finally looked at her. "You're just replacements. Maybe nicer ones. But once you get your ship working, you'll leave too."
"We're not like them—"
"No," he snapped, standing up. "You're not. But I am."
She stared.
"I'm not Kael," Tyren muttered. "I don't endure. I burn. And I'm running out of flame."
---
That night, the cave felt colder.
Even the fire that Oris had carefully built earlier was sputtering.
Freya pulled her coat tighter.
Oris hadn't spoken in over two hours.
Kael still sat in the corner, unmoving, eyes open but soulless.
Kira huddled beside Lisette, both girls looking lost.
They turned to the old men again.
"Help us," Kira said. "Say something that'll bring them back."
Trask just sighed. "There's nothing to say."
"You've fought wars," Lisette insisted. "You've faced worse, right?"
"Worse?" Draan chuckled darkly. "No. This is about as bad as it gets."
"Then fight back."
Draan looked at them.
Long and slow.
And said: "You only fight back when there's something left to protect. We've lost everything. Our homes. Our ranks. Our crews. We're not soldiers anymore. We're... survivors. And survivors get tired of burying friends."
---
The girls didn't reply.
Because they understood now.
This wasn't just about Kael or Tyren.
This wasn't about being brave or afraid.
This was about fighting so long and so hard that you forget what peace even feels like.
About running out of reasons to keep picking up the pieces.
And that scared them more than the Kaiju ever had.
---
Far from the cave, a creature stirred in the lower valleys.
Huge.
Silent.
Its form masked by the fog and thick foliage.
But its eyes... glowed with intelligence.
And in its chest…
A shard of metal blinked faintly — a transceiver core from a human spacecraft.
Someone… or something… had been listening.
---