The silence lingered after Revan’s departure, broken only by the soft, steady beeping of the monitors and the low hum of the energy scanner still pulsing faintly beside Eve’s bed.

  She remained still, propped up against the pillows, her gaze fixed on the corner where the High Commander had stood just moments before. His words looped through her mind like an echo—purpose, stability, opportunity.

  But none of it felt like hers.

  She couldn’t deny the weight of what he’d said. She’d closed a portal. Brought down a barrier. And taken out that creature… Something even seasoned commanders couldn’t do. And yet, she remembered none of it clearly. The power, if it truly came from her, had surged beyond her understanding. Beyond her control.

  Her fingers brushed lightly over her abdomen, the soreness still present—a reminder that whatever had happened, it had come with a cost.

  A soft chime broke her thoughts. The door slid open.

  A familiar figure stepped in.

  Rowan Thorne.

  He carried a sleek, pale gss box tucked under one arm; the kind used to store delicate gifts. His hair was styled neatly as ever, and his charming smile appeared the moment their eyes met.

  "Well, well," he said softly, stepping into the room like he belonged there. "Heard you took a pretty dramatic tumble. Figured I should see for myself if the rumours were true."

  Eve blinked, surprised. "Rowan?"

  He crossed the room with ease and set the box down gently on the bedside table, then opened it with a flourish. Inside was a bouquet of luminescent flowers, their soft blue glow casting gentle light over the white bedding.

  "Brought you something to make the room a little less clinical," he said with a softer smile. "Figured they might make you feel a little better."

  Eve exhaled softly, the corners of her mouth lifting in a quiet smile. "They’re really beautiful."

  "So are you," Rowan replied easily, then raised both hands in mock surrender. "And I mean that in the least creepy, most respectful way possible."

  She ughed, just a little.

  He pulled up the chair beside her, resting one arm on the edge of her bed. "I heard what happened—or, at least, what little they’re allowed to tell us. You really don’t remember it?"

  Eve shook her head. "Only fragments. Nothing that makes sense."

  Rowan studied her a moment longer, then tilted his head slightly. "They said you were out for a while. I wasn’t sure what I’d find walking in here.”, his tone a little softer now.

  Eve responded with a tired smile, polite and soft. She appreciated the sentiment but couldn’t quite find the words to reply.

  Rowan leaned forward just a little. "Listen... when you’re out of here, when you’re feeling up to it—I’d like to take you to dinner. Nothing formal. Just... food, good lighting, less glowing scanners."

  Eve blinked. It took her a second to respond. "Dinner?"

  "Yeah," Rowan said smoothly, standing up with that easy grace of his. "You deserve something nice, Eve. And I’d like the honour of being the first to provide it."

  He gave her a half-bow, winked, and stepped back toward the door.

  "Think about it. No pressure."

  Just outside the hallway, Levi had been approaching—quiet and steady, a container of herbal broth in one hand, the other in his pocket. But as he neared Eve’s room, he slowed.

  Voices. Familiar ones.

  Through the partially open doorway, he saw Rowan inside smiling, leaning in close. Heard him ask Eve to dinner.

  Levi stood frozen for a moment, watching the exchange without fully meaning to. Something stung—a flicker in his chest he couldn’t quite name.

  He turned before they noticed him, retreating down the corridor the same way he came, the warmth of the broth slowly fading in his grip.

  Back inside, the room was quiet again, save for the soft glow of the flowers.

  And the lingering warmth of the smile Rowan had left behind.

  A few days ter, Eve was discharged from the medical centre. Her body felt nearly whole again—stronger, even—but her nerves hadn’t quite caught up. Something about the way Revan had spoken to her still echoed in her bones.

  Just as he’d said, her enlistment into the Vanguard Division became official. She received a short message the morning of her release, directing her to report to the arena floor for assessment and integration training.

  She’d expected forms, a new schedule, maybe a tour.

  Instead, she found Levi waiting.

  He stood near the centre of the training space, already geared in his standard bck combat uniform, his arms crossed and his expression unreadable.

  Her steps slowed.

  "You’re here for training," he said without preamble, his tone clipped and all business. "I’ve been assigned to get you ready for the next potential rift event. We start today."

  Eve swallowed lightly. "Right. Got it."

  He turned and gestured toward the centre of the training floor without another word.

  The next couple of hours moved in a blur. Levi was efficient. Sharp. Precise. He ran her through drills like it was just another assignment—offering corrections only when necessary, but never with warmth. Never with a smile.

  He didn’t go easy on her.

  "Again," he said ftly when her stance faltered. "You’re dropping your shoulder. Reset."

  She winced, breath catching. "Sorry."

  "Don’t apologise. Adjust." His eyes fixed on her.

  The words weren’t cruel. But they weren’t kind, either.

  Levi purposely kept his distance. He avoided her eyes just long enough to make it feel intentional, his jaw flexed when she faltered but stayed silent. He never stepped in, never reached out. But he noticed everything.

  Frustration began to creep in, slow and persistent. The exhaustion from relentless drills was one thing—but the coldness from Levi, the ck of even the smallest acknowledgment, made it worse. Her body ached, but so did her chest in ways she hadn’t expected.

  She’d expected at least a nod, a word—something. A welcome back. Maybe even a gnce that told her he was gd she’d made it out. But he hadn’t even visited her in the hospital, and now here he was, acting like nothing had happened.

  And that hurt.

  And it hurt more than if he had ignored her altogether.

  Still, she pushed on.

  She didn’t want to let him down.

  Or give him another reason to keep that distance in his voice.

  A few more days passed like this—early mornings in the arena, relentless drills under Levi’s silent supervision, and no shift in his demeanour. Eve woke up sore, trained until she was raw, and went to bed with more questions than answers. The routine was starting to wear on her.

  The next morning came.

  Eve stepped into the arena, stretching her arms and rolling her shoulders as she prepared herself for another round of drills. Her eyes scanned the familiar space—until they nded on a figure that made her freeze.

  Arel.

  A smile broke across Eve’s face almost instantly, her exhaustion momentarily forgotten.

  Arel spotted her and beamed. "Surprise! Got back a day early. Couldn’t resist dropping in."

  She jogged toward Eve, arms already open. They met in the middle of the arena and hugged tightly, ughter spilling out between them.

  "I missed you," Eve said against her shoulder.

  "You too. Every day," Arel replied, squeezing her once more before stepping back. "Thalorea was beautiful, but it wasn’t the same without my favourite chaos magnet."

  They had been texting throughout the week—daily updates about training, progress, and random nonsense to keep spirits up. Eve had told her everything.

  Well, almost everything.

  She’d left out how distant Levi had been. That part she hadn’t known how to expin.

  "How’s training been?" Arel asked, her tone light but curious as she walked beside Eve toward the edge of the arena. "Levi been giving you hell?"

  Eve gave a small ugh, trying to brush it off. "Something like that. He’s... thorough."

  Arel shot her a look. "Thorough sounds like code for relentless."

  Eve shrugged, eyes drifting across the floor where she’d fumbled more than once this week. "He hasn’t gone easy on me. That’s for sure. Honestly... I don’t think he likes me very much."

  Arel blinked at her, surprised. "What? Why would you think that?"

  "I don’t know," Eve said quietly. "He’s just... cold. It’s like I did something to annoy him, but I don’t know what. Maybe he’s angry about what happened during the breach. I didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt."

  "Of course he’s not angry with you," Arel said without missing a beat. Then she paused, her tone softening. "He was concerned, Eve. He stayed with you at the medical centre. The whole time—until you woke up."

  Eve blinked. "Wait, what? He did?"

  "Yeah," Arel said gently. "Didn’t leave. Barely spoke. Just sat there. The medics even tried to get him to rest, but he wouldn’t."

  Eve’s breath hitched. She remembered blurry moments—shadows by the bed, a warmth near her, something she thought she had imagined. Maybe she had convinced herself she saw him because some part of her had wanted to.

  But he really had been there.

  And he hadn’t said a word.

  Before she could respond, the doors at the far end of the arena opened—and there he was again.

  Levi, already dressed down in his training gear, eyes scanning the space as he entered.

  And just like that, the air shifted again.

  Levi noticed them. He approached with that same unreadable calm, nodding once as he stopped a few paces away.

  "Morning," Arel greeted brightly, her grin wide. "Try not to look too thrilled to see me."

  Levi arched a brow. "Didn’t expect you back yet."

  "Surprise. I came to make sure you weren’t running Eve into the ground."

  He said nothing to that, but the faintest twitch of his mouth gave him away. Arel turned to Eve and gave her a conspiratorial wink. Eve couldn’t help smiling back.

  Just then, the doors at the far end of the arena slid open again. A group from Unit 1 entered—Rowan among them, his presence as effortless as ever. The moment he spotted Eve, his face lit up.

  "Look who’s back in action," he said as he jogged over, eyes twinkling. "Gd to see you on your feet again. You look good in the arena."

  Eve smiled, caught off guard by how warm she felt seeing him. "Thanks."

  He dipped in a little closer, dropping his voice just enough. "Hope you haven’t forgotten about my offer. I meant it, and I’m holding you to it."

  Before she could answer, Arel was already turning toward her with raised brows and a face full of excitement. A date? With Rowan? Her eyes said it all, and Eve shook her head, blushing slightly.

  Rowan winked, then turned smoothly back toward his unit, jogging to catch up with them.

  Eve was still watching him when Levi’s voice cut through the air.

  "Let’s get back to it."

  He stood nearby, arms folded, his expression ft. But there was something in his eyes—tighter than usual.

  Eve blinked and nodded, quickly turning to follow.

  Arel just smirked quietly behind her.

  Levi lingered for a moment as Eve stepped away toward the centre of the arena. Arel stayed beside him, watching her friend go.

  "Maybe go a little easier on her?" Arel teased under her breath, giving him a pointed side gnce. "You didn’t even tell her you stayed at the medical centre."

  The second she said it, Levi turned to her with a defeated look, his jaw tightening. A faint blush coloured his face, and his hand instinctively scratched the back of his neck.

  He sighed and rolled his eyes, looking away.

  Arel shrugged with a grin. "She deserved to know."

  Levi’s gaze drifted toward the other group still settling in across the arena. His voice was quiet, lower now.

  "She needs to be careful around others," he muttered, more to himself than to Arel. "You never know what someone’s angle is."

  The implication hung in the air—clear and unmistakably pointed in Rowan’s direction.

  Arel sighed and looked to Levi, "Let the girl enjoy herself—it's not every day you're flung into a different world, now is it?"

  Levi said nothing more. But maybe something Arel said settled in.

  Training went on for the rest of the day, just like before—drills, repetition, movement until exhaustion.

  But this time... it was different.

  Maybe Arel had gotten through to him, even just a little. He was still composed, still Levi—but he wasn’t quite as cold this time round. Which made all the difference to Eve.