The hangar buzzed with activity—mechanics running diagnostics, engineers finalizing the fuel matrix, and technicians adjusting the defense modules. But amid all the movement, Kael stood still.
Towering before him was the reborn Ravager Mk III, its shadow cast long across the floor.
Even with half its systems still under calibration, it radiated dominance.
By his side, Tyren leaned against a rail, arms folded, chewing over some nutrient stick like it was a cigarette. His eyes flicked from the mechanics to Kael, then to the upper level where a few familiar silhouettes had just entered.
Kael didn't turn. But he felt it.
Footsteps. Familiar. Hesitant. Too soft for soldiers.
Lisette. Freya. Kira. Oris.
They stood at the threshold of the hangar, watching Kael and Tyren from afar like outsiders at a funeral.
Tyren's expression darkened. "Well, well," he muttered. "Look who remembered we exist."
Kael gave no reaction.
The four slowly approached.
It was Lisette who spoke first, voice shaky but sincere. "Kael…"
He didn't look at her.
She stepped closer. "We—"
"Stop," Kael said, voice flat as steel. "If it's pity, don't waste your breath."
Kira stepped in, her words faster, more desperate. "We were wrong, okay? We didn't believe you when we should have. But we're sorry."
Still, Kael didn't look at them. He just checked the diagnostics screen on Ravager's forearm.
Freya tried next. "We... we didn't know how bad it was. How deep it all ran. If we had known—"
"You would've done what?" Kael cut her off coldly. He turned, finally, his eyes like frost. "Stopped them? Fought beside me? Or just whispered about it and said nothing—again?"
They fell silent.
"I was bleeding in front of you. You watched."
Oris, silent all this time, finally stepped forward. His face, usually unreadable, was now filled with regret.
"Kael, I failed you. That day… I didn't move when I should have. I told myself it wasn't my fight."
Kael's gaze fixed on him like a predator watching a wounded animal. "It was always your fight, Oris. You just chose the easy side."
Silence.
Tyren shifted uncomfortably but said nothing. This wasn't his scene. This wasn't forgiveness. It was farewell.
Kael looked away. "I'm not here to be healed. Or hugged. Or fixed."
He stepped toward Ravager's cockpit.
"I don't carry grudges. I carry weight. And I don't have hands left to carry any of you."
And with that, he climbed into his mecha.
The silence they left behind was heavier than any roar of war.
---
Meanwhile, on the Command Deck
Ryssa stood at the reinforced observation window, overlooking the preparation bay as Kael ran internal checks in Ravager and Tyren reviewed mission files.
She leaned forward on the rail, her eyes narrowing in thought.
He didn't even blink at them.
So cold. So distant.
But not broken.
She admired that.
Too much, maybe.
She had started this recruitment as strategy, nothing more. Power recognizing power. But now? Every move Kael made was quietly reshaping the tension in her chest.
What am I doing? she thought.
She had been in command of countless soldiers. All tough. All dangerous. All disposable.
But he wasn't disposable.
He was… different.
Brutal. Hardened.
But in the quiet moments, when he thought no one was looking—there was still something beneath the rage. Some wounded depth that hadn't quite turned to ash.
Was it pity she felt?
No. It was attraction.
Dangerous. Stupid. But real.
She shook herself. No time for that now. She swiped open the mission panel.
---
In the Briefing Room – One Hour Later
Kael and Tyren sat alone across a projection table as Ryssa's voice echoed from the AI terminal.
"You're both cleared for off-world deployment," she began. "Standard procedure says your first mission should be a small recon op or scavenger hunt near moon stations of Sector V."
Kael didn't respond.
Ryssa sighed into the comm. "But I have a feeling I'd be wasting your time."
Kael raised an eyebrow. "You think?"
Tyren leaned back in his chair. "Please. Don't put us on babysitting duty."
Ryssa smirked—despite herself—and pulled up a new screen.
"Then you'll be pleased to know we've cleared you for an extended deployment on R22."
Kael's eyes sharpened.
"You'll be given full authority to operate as you see fit," Ryssa continued. "Harvest, hunt, recover. Base construction will be authorized if needed. You'll have two supply drops a month and remote comms with me only."
Tyren whistled. "You're spoiling us."
Kael looked at her through the screen. "Why the change of heart?"
Ryssa's smirk lingered—but her eyes betrayed something else.
"You two already survived what that hell planet threw at you with nothing but scraps and blood. I figure... let the devils return to their own fire."
Kael said nothing. But inside, a strange heat stirred.
It wasn't pride. Or gratitude.
It was control.
For the first time in a long time, he was choosing his war.
---
Back in the Hangar
As Kael stood before Ravager, helmet in hand, Tyren clapped him on the back. "Back to the meat grinder, huh?"
Kael's voice was low. "It's home."
Lisette, Freya, and Kira watched them from afar, the sting of rejection still burning in their hearts.
Oris stood beside them, silent again—but broken in a way that words wouldn't fix.
And Ryssa? She watched from the shadows of the upper balcony—unseen by most.
But Kael noticed her.
He always noticed her.
Their eyes m
et for a flicker of a second.
And for the first time, he nodded.
Not a thank-you.
Not acceptance.
But acknowledgment.
And maybe—just maybe—a beginning.