Seraph sat with her back against cold stone, cradling her broken arm. The pain had dulled to a constant throb that she’d almost gotten used to. Almost. Torres had tried to set it with a makeshift splint made from a rifle stock and torn shirt. It helped. Sort of.

Outside, searchlights swept the ravine in rhythmic patterns.

They’d been hiding for three hours now.

Kaine sat in the corner, looking almost peaceful despite everything. Like he’d made peace with whatever came next. That worried her more than if he’d been panicking.

“Your ship’s not coming,” he said quietly. “They would’ve been here by now.”

“They’ll come.” Seraph didn’t look at him. Didn’t give him the satisfaction.

“Even if they do, you’re trapped. My people control the whole region. The moment your ship appears on radar, they’ll blow it out of the sky.” He shifted, getting comfortable. “You should’ve just let me die in the crash. That would’ve been kinder.”

“We’re not kind people,” Torres said from where he sat keeping watch. “We’re people who get things done.”

“By kidnapping government officials?”

“By stopping psychopaths from enslaving humanity. There’s a difference.”

Kaine actually laughed at that. “Is there? You threw me off a train. You’re holding me hostage. You’re threatening violence to get what you want. How are you different from Sterling?”

“We don’t experiment on people,” Kira said. Her voice was cold. “We don’t rip souls apart and stitch them back together wrong. We don’t build armies of slaves.”

“No. You just fight a war you can’t win and get your own people killed in the process.” Kaine leaned forward. “How many have died following your cause? Hundreds? Thousands? How many more will die before you admit you’ve lost?”

Seraph wanted to argue. But she’d seen the casualty reports. She knew the numbers. Every week they got smaller. Every mission, fewer came back.

“The codes,” she said, changing the subject. “We need them.”

“I told you. You won’t get them.”

“We don’t have time for this.” Seraph brought out Kaine’s datapad. They’d taken it off him after the crash. “This thing has the access codes for the Lunar Defense Grid. Without them, our fleet dies trying to reach the Moon. So here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to unlock this pad. You’re going to give us those codes. And then maybe, just maybe, we don’t leave you in this cave for Sterling’s people to find.”

Kaine smiled. Not a happy smile. The kind that said he knew something she didn’t. “Go ahead. Try to hack it. It requires retinal scan, voice authentication, and fingerprint. All three. You can cut off my finger, but you can’t fake my voice or my eye without killing me. And if I’m dead, the pad locks permanently.”

He was right. She hated that he was right.

“So what?” Torres stood up, wincing on his injured leg. “We just give up? Let Jonah and everyone in space die because this bureaucrat won’t cooperate?”

“I’m not a bureaucrat. I’m a believer.” Kaine’s voice was calm “Sterling’s vision is the future. Your rebellion is the past clinging to life. I’d rather die than help you delay the inevitable.”

The cave went quiet except for the drip of water somewhere in the dark and the sound of searchlights moving outside.

Then Draven groaned.

Everyone turned.

He’d been so still for so long that Seraph had almost forgotten he was there.

“You,” Draven said. His voice was rough.

“Me,” Kaine agreed.

Draven pushed himself up. It took forever. Torres moved to help but Draven waved him off. He made it to his knees, then to his feet, using the wall for support. His left leg was a nightmare of blood and torn fabric, but he was standing.

He limped toward Kaine.

He stopped in front of the High Overseer and just stared down at him.

“We need those codes,” Draven said.

“I’m not giving them to you.”

“Yes, you are.”

“What are you going to do? Hit me? Torture me?” Kaine’s smile widened. “You’re Academy. You have rules. Codes of conduct. You won’t stoop to Sterling’s level.”

“You’re right,” Draven said. “I won’t.”

He knelt down, until he was eye level with Kaine. Then he placed his hand flat against Kaine’s chest.

“What are you…” Kaine started to say.

Then his eyes went wide.

Seraph felt it too. Even from where she sat. A pressure in the air. Like the atmosphere had suddenly gotten heavier. Thicker. Harder to breathe through.

Draven’s ability. His Aegis. The shield that could stop bullets and absorb impacts. The power that had let him break the unbreakable prison.

He was using it now.

But not as a shield.

Kaine made a sound. Not quite a scream. More like all the air being forced from his lungs at once.

“What I’m doing,” Draven said quietly, “is showing you what it feels like to have a mountain on your chest.”

The pressure intensified. Seraph could see it now. A golden shimmer around Draven’s hand. Around Kaine’s whole body. Crushing inward.

Kaine’s face went red. Then purple. His mouth opened but no sound came out.

“Can’t breathe, can you?” Draven’s voice was flat. Empty. “That’s because your lungs are being compressed. Not enough to collapse them. Just enough to make every breath feel impossible.”

CRACK.

Something in Kaine’s chest made a sound. A rib, probably. Not broken. Just bending under pressure it was never meant to handle.

“Stop,” Kaine wheezed. “Please.”

“I’m not Academy right now,” Draven said. His hand didn’t move. The pressure didn’t ease. “I’m just a guy who’s bleeding out. A guy who’s tired of watching people die for nothing. A guy who really, really needs those codes.”

Another CRACK.

Kaine was crying now. Tears streaming down his face. His whole body shaking with the effort of trying to breathe against the impossible weight.

“So here’s how this works,” Draven continued. “You give us the codes. Right now. Or I keep going. And maybe your ribs break. And maybe your sternum cracks. And maybe something important inside gets crushed. I won’t kill you. That would be too easy. But I will make you wish I had.”

“Draven,” Seraph said quietly. Not stopping him. Just acknowledging what was happening. What line they were crossing.

He didn’t look at her. Just kept staring at Kaine with eyes that held no mercy. No hesitation.

Just cold, brutal necessity.

“The codes,” Draven said. “Now.”

Kaine broke.

“Yes! Yes! Stop, please stop, I’ll give them to you!”

The pressure vanished. Kaine gasped, sucking in air like a drowning man breaking the surface. He coughed. Sobbed. Curled up on himself.

“The pad,” Seraph said, holding it out.

Kaine took it with shaking hands. Pressed his thumb to the scanner. Stared into the retinal reader. Spoke the passphrase in a voice that cracked and stuttered.

The pad unlocked with a soft chime.

Access granted.

Seraph took it back, pulled up the files. There they were. Defense grid access codes. Satellite command protocols. Everything Jonah needed to reach the Moon without getting vaporized.

“Torres, send it,” she ordered.

Torres pulled out the transmitter. Linked it to the pad. Started the upload.

“Transmitting to Nomad. Encryption is holding. Signal’s clean.”

They waited. Thirty seconds that felt like hours.

Then Torres’s screen flashed green. “Confirmation received. They got it.”

Seraph let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.

They’d done it. Actually done it.

She looked at Draven. He was sitting against the wall again, eyes closed, hand pressed to his bleeding leg. His face was gray in the dim light.

“You okay?” she asked.

“No.” He didn’t open his eyes. “But we got what we needed.”

That was true. They had.

But looking at Kaine, still curled up and crying in the corner, Seraph wondered what they’d given up to get it.

Outside, an engine sound. Different from the others. Louder. Closer.

Then Vanessa’s voice crackled through the comm. “Ground team, this is Nomad. We’re in position for pickup. Get ready to move.”

Finally.

“You heard her,” Seraph said, standing up. “Let’s go home.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep