The rain had stopped sometime before dawn.
Rowan lay still, eyes half-lidded, his body warm beneath the covers but his mind a quiet storm. Lucian was asleep beside him—arm still loosely curled around his waist, breath slow and steady against the back of his neck.
They hadn't moved much during the night.
It had been the kind of sleep born from exhaustion, not peace.
But even in the haze of unease, there was something grounding about the way Lucian held him—like the world couldn't come apart if they stayed connected. Rowan turned slightly, just enough to see Lucian's face in the early light—peaceful, almost younger in sleep.
He reached up and brushed a strand of dark hair away from Lucian's temple, fingertips barely grazing skin. Lucian stirred at the touch, lashes fluttering open.
"Hey," he murmured, voice still rough from sleep.
Rowan gave a faint smile. "Didn't mean to wake you."
Lucian shifted, his hand sliding gently up Rowan's back. "I don't mind."
They lay like that for another minute, quiet breaths shared between them.
Then Rowan whispered, "You sleep better when I'm here."
Lucian's fingers splayed gently across his spine. "You keep me grounded."
Rowan pressed a soft kiss to Lucian's collarbone and then reluctantly pulled away, sitting at the edge of the bed. "I still didn't sleep much."
Lucian sat up behind him. The bed creaked under his weight as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss just behind Rowan's ear. "Nightmares?"
"Sort of." Rowan looked back at him, eyes tired but warmer now. "I keep thinking something's coming. But we don't know what."
Lucian's palm rested between Rowan's shoulder blades, steady and warm. "Whatever it is, we face it together."
They moved in tandem to the kitchenette, quiet and comfortable in their routine. Rowan started prepping the water for tea.
"You still make it too strong," Lucian muttered, brushing past him to grab two mugs.
Rowan arched a brow. "You always drink it anyway."
Lucian gave him a sideways glance and the smallest of smirks. "Only because it tastes like you."
The kettle clicked to life. Rowan didn't reply, but his ears pinked slightly as he poured the water. Lucian leaned back against the counter, arms folded loosely, watching him with quiet fondness.
Then the console across the room flickered.
Both turned.
A glitch.
The screen lit—static lacing its edges—and for just a breath, a set of coordinates blinked into view. Then vanished.
Rowan crossed the room quickly. But when he reached it, the console had returned to idle.
Lucian moved beside him. "You saw that too?"
"Yeah."
Rowan tapped the interface—nothing. No entry. No log.
Lucian's jaw tightened. "That looked like Rift code."
Rowan whispered, "So why is it showing up here?"
Neither had an answer.
But they didn't need to say it.
Something was bleeding through.
And it had found them again.
---
The silence lingered as they finished their tea, both lost in their thoughts. Rowan's fingers curled around the mug, the heat grounding him even as the unease refused to fade. Lucian stood nearby, eyes flicking occasionally to the console as if half-expecting it to flicker again.
"Come on," Rowan said eventually, setting the mug down. "Let's get something to eat."
Lucian nodded without hesitation.
The halls were quiet as they walked side by side, the early morning haze still clinging to the corridors. Most of the base hadn't stirred yet. Soft lights illuminated their path, flickering occasionally—nothing unusual, but in the wake of the recursion glitch, even the smallest things felt heavier.
When they entered the cafeteria, it was mostly empty save for a few early-rising engineers and two Guides speaking quietly at a corner table. The scent of brewed coffee and warm starch filled the space.
Lucian nudged Rowan gently. "Grab us a table—I'll get the food."
Rowan watched him for a moment, then nodded and slid into a booth near the window. Beyond the reinforced glass, the world outside Zarek HQ stretched into sharp architectural lines—sterile towers of alloy and tempered crystal, pulsing faintly with embedded resonance veins that shimmered like veins of light.
The courtyard directly outside the cafeteria was minimalistic, with geometric benches and bio-filtered greenery carefully curated to withstand ambient Rift emissions.
A soft mist clung to the edges of the walkways, where faint resonance stabilizers pulsed under the surface like breathing lights, keeping the air calibrated.
In the distance, security drones hovered in slow, silent patterns between buildings—watchful but unobtrusive, like sentinels made of shadow and circuit. The skyline beyond that flickered faintly, as if caught between layers of static and sunrise. The synthetic morning light poured across the table, casting shadows that shimmered faintly in a way that made him blink once, unsure if it was another glitch.
Lucian returned a few minutes later with a tray—two plates of simple rations, scrambled protein and toasted starch rounds, along with another mug of tea for Rowan and a black coffee for himself.
"Tried not to burn the eggs," Lucian said dryly as he sat down.
Rowan chuckled softly, taking a bite. "I'll take my chances."
They ate in quiet rhythm, the kind only shared between people who've been through too much to need words. Occasionally, Rowan would glance at Lucian across the table and find him already watching.
There was comfort in that gaze—familiar, anchoring—but also a flicker of something deeper. A weight neither of them could yet name.
Lucian sipped his coffee, then looked out the window toward the courtyard beyond.
"Do you ever feel like something's waiting for us?" he asked.
Rowan didn't answer right away. He followed Lucian's gaze, eyes narrowing slightly.
"I think it already is."
Neither of them spoke after that.
They just sat together in the soft light, sharing silence and breakfast as the world continued to shift beneath their feet.
---
Across the compound, in one of the resonance stabilization training rooms, Ari Winters darted between practice dummies with a familiar ferocity, her toned frame moving with fluid precision. Her dark brown hair, slightly damp with sweat, was held back with a slim headband, her amber eyes sharp and locked onto her target.
A blur of motion—then a clean sweep of her leg knocked one of the weighted dummy constructs to the mat with a heavy thud. She landed in a crouch and wiped her forearm across her cheek, brushing over the faint scar that crossed it.
Quinn Reyes stood nearby, arms folded, observing her with a small, fond smile. His calm hazel eyes tracked her movement like a pulse monitor, his presence quiet but steady—like the low hum of a stabilizer just out of view. He wore his guide uniform with its usual polish, sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealing the faint shimmer of the guide node along his wrist.
Ari bounced on her heels and tossed him a grin. "You sure you're not gonna spar with me today? I've got energy to burn."
"You'll break the floor panels again," Quinn replied smoothly. "And someone has to keep the logs clean."
She huffed, grabbing a towel from the bench. "Spoilsport."
They shared a light laugh, the sound echoing warmly in the open training room.
Then Ari's tone softened. "You didn't sleep last night."
Quinn didn't deny it. "Not really."
She stepped closer, towel slung over her shoulder. "Because of the recursion data?"
Quinn hesitated, then nodded. "There's a pattern forming. And Rowan... whatever's happening to him, it's not random."
Ari's smile faded. She reached out and gently touched his chest. "Hey. He's strong. And he has Lucian."
Quinn looked at her, brow slightly furrowed. "That's what worries me."
Ari tilted her head. "You don't trust Lucian?"
"No, it's not that," Quinn said. "He'd burn the world to protect Rowan. That kind of bond—it's powerful, but it's not always stable."
Ari pressed her forehead to his briefly, her voice softer now. "We'll keep watch. Together. Like always."
His hand found hers, fingers intertwining.
"Together," he echoed.
For a moment, the tension eased, replaced by warmth. The world outside could glitch, crack, and threaten to unravel—but in that moment, Ari and Quinn stood anchored in each other.
The sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor.
A moment later, Rowan and Lucian stepped into the training room. Lucian, tall and composed in his dark tactical gear, gave a brief nod toward the pair. Rowan trailed just behind, hands tucked into his sleeves, a hint of warmth softening the weariness in his eyes as he offered Quinn a quiet smile.
"Interrupting something?" Lucian asked.
Ari turned with a grin. "Only Quinn's refusal to let me throw him across the mat."
Lucian smirked. "Then maybe you need a better challenge."
Ari's eyes lit up instantly. "You're on."
Quinn glanced at Rowan, who only shrugged and moved to stand beside him along the edge of the mat. "He needs to burn off energy," Rowan murmured. "Better her than me."
They cleared the floor, and the air seemed to tighten with anticipation.
Lucian stepped onto the mat, rolling his shoulders. Ari stretched her neck, short brown hair clinging to her temple, amber eyes gleaming with excitement.
"Rules?" she asked.
"Try not to destroy the building," Lucian replied.
They moved.
Ari blurred forward first—enhanced speed launching her into a low sweep, one that Lucian flipped over with a ripple of spatial distortion beneath his boots. His hand flicked, and the air shimmered as a minor warping field pulsed from his palm. Ari darted through it, twisting midair and landing with a punch aimed at his ribs.
Lucian absorbed the hit with a grunt, catching her wrist and flipping her again. Ari used the momentum, kicking off the wall and striking back with a burst of her Energy Surge. Her fists crackled as kinetic energy sparked off her knuckles.
Lucian grinned. A rare, sharp thing.
He unleashed a wave of spatial disruption—a jagged pulse that twisted the air like a heat mirage. Ari vanished through it, reappearing a second later behind him.
She struck.
Lucian twisted, blocking her knee with his arm and slamming her back with a concussive burst.
They both hit the mat, rolled, and rose again.
Quinn reached down without a word and plucked two sleek daggers from the bench beside him. With a flick of his wrist, he sent them flying toward Ari in a perfect arc.
She caught them mid-air without missing a beat, spinning both once in her hands before lowering into a new stance. Her expression sharpened—less playful now, more focused.
Lucian's eyes flicked to the blades, and a small smirk curled at his lips. He recognized the shift. The real fight was starting.
Ari lunged again, her blades flashing. She struck low, then high, her attacks a blur of speed and ferocity. Lucian parried with his forearms at first, but the sting of metal made him flare his abilities.
A ripple of space surged from beneath his boots, warping the terrain slightly. The air cracked like glass bending—not breaking. Ari adjusted mid-strike, flipping over the distortion with a graceful twist, landing behind him.
She didn't wait.
Her daggers sliced forward—one aimed for his ribs, the other for his collarbone. Lucian teleported half a step to the side, letting her momentum carry her forward. He countered with a kinetic pulse that sent her skidding backward across the mat.
Rowan stepped forward slightly, tension in his shoulders. Quinn's calm expression faltered.
Ari came back fast—dashing toward Lucian with blades aglow, energy surging up her arms. Each strike came with concussive force, her enhanced strength tearing at the air.
Lucian began weaving spatial traps around her. Invisible pulses flickered in the room—if she stepped wrong, she'd hit a wall of compressed space.
She didn't care.
Ari leapt through one trap, sliced with both daggers, and knocked Lucian back a step. But Lucian responded with a blast of spatial recoil, shoving her across the mat. The floor beneath her feet cracked from the impact.
Quinn blinked. "I take it back. They're not evenly matched."
Lucian advanced this time, fast and fluid. He appeared behind Ari with a shimmer of displacement. She pivoted just in time, blocked one strike, but the second pulse caught her square in the side—sending her crashing into a padded column.
She groaned but pushed herself upright.
Lucian stood centered, glowing faintly with residual energy. His breath was steady. His stance perfect.
Ari threw one of the daggers—fast and high.
Lucian caught it.
"Yield?" he asked, voice low.
Ari grinned through her labored breath. "Fine. But next time I bring my big knives."
Lucian lowered his hand, tossing the dagger back to her.
Rowan exhaled slowly, tension leaving his frame.
The air in the room pulsed once—charged and dissipated.
And in the quiet that followed, the hum of resonance lingered like an echo of something bigger still stirring beneath them all.
Lucian lowered his hand, flicking some static energy off his fingers. "You're getting faster."
Ari rolled her shoulders with a wince. "And you're still annoying with that teleport cheat."
Lucian smirked. "Spatial advantage. It's not cheating if it's a class difference."
"Keep talking," she muttered, picking up her fallen dagger. "Next time I'm using blunt weapons."
Lucian raised a brow. "For your safety or mine?"
She flashed a feral grin. "We'll find out."
Their banter eased the static left in the room, and without another word, both turned toward their partners.
Lucian strode across the mat toward Rowan, his breath steadying as he drew close. Rowan handed him a water bottle without comment, their fingers brushing.
Meanwhile, Ari jogged over to Quinn, her body flushed and humming with residual energy. He gave her a dry look and offered a towel.
"Told you he'd turn it up."
"Yeah, yeah," she said, dragging the towel over her neck. "Next time, throw me the big knives."
They both chuckled, the moment grounding them—tethers resetting after the adrenaline high.
And around them, the hum of the facility continued—quiet, but never truly still.