Silence stretched between them, broken only by the gentle sound of the stream and water dripping from Lyra's soaked clothes. The question Elijah had posed hung in the air: what happens next?

  Alexander stepped forward. "Our camp is nearby. You need dry clothes and food."

  "Why would I trust you?" Lyra asked, bde still ready.

  Valeria, the severe-looking woman, scoffed. "We just saved your life. You could start with gratitude."

  "I didn't ask for your help," Lyra countered.

  "Yet you needed it," Alexander observed coolly.

  Lyra's eyes narrowed. "You've been watching me."

  Alexander nodded, unapologetic. "Your trap designs caught our attention."

  "Alexander," Valeria cut in sharply. "We don't know anything about her. She's Unaligned."

  "I can hear you," Lyra said ftly.

  The other woman on the team approached, offering a thermal wrap. "I'm Riva Ellis. You're freezing. Politics can wait."

  Lyra hesitated before accepting it with her free hand, never lowering her bde. The instant warmth from the high-quality wrap was almost overwhelming.

  "Thank you," she said grudgingly.

  "Marcus Tullian," the rger man introduced himself with a nod. "Combat specialist."

  "Lyra Kess," she replied, wrapping the thermal bnket around her shoulders.

  "The quota deadline is in two days," Alexander said matter-of-factly. "More hunting parties will come. Staying alone is tactically unsound."

  Valeria's expression hardened. "We don't need an Unaligned scavenger slowing us down."

  "Watch your tone, Valeria," Alexander warned.

  The dismissive way they discussed her—like she was equipment to be assessed—ignited a fre of anger in Lyra. "I've managed just fine without Architect charity."

  Elijah, who had been quietly observing, spoke up. "It's not charity. Our camp has shelter and food. At least get warm and dry before making decisions."

  His gaze was different from his brother's—less calcuting, more curious. Something about it made Lyra uneasy.

  "Let's continue this at camp," Alexander decided. "We're exposed here."

  Lyra weighed her options quickly. These were the sons of Marcus Voss himself. Being close to them could provide valuable information. And with more hunting parties coming, her survival chances alone were diminishing.

  "Fine," she agreed reluctantly. "Lead the way."

  The team moved through the forest with practiced efficiency. Alexander and Elijah took positions on either side of Lyra, while Valeria scouted ahead and Marcus guarded the rear. Their formation was clearly the result of extensive pre-Game training.

  Lyra studied them as they traveled. Each carried equipment far beyond anything avaible to Unaligned pyers. The twins moved with the confidence of those who had never known scarcity, yet there were subtle differences between them. Alexander's posture was rigid, always alert, while Elijah moved more fluidly, his attention seemingly everywhere at once.

  They reached a clearing where a well-established camp was protected by advanced security sensors. Inside, a smokeless fire burned at the center, surrounded by weather-resistant shelters and a small technical station.

  "Welcome to base camp," Alexander said as Valeria deactivated a section of the perimeter.

  Stepping into the camp, Lyra immediately mapped escape routes and defensive positions—habits ingrained from weeks of survival.

  Riva handed her dry clothes. "Change behind that screen. You'll think more clearly when you're warm."

  The clothes were simple but made of far better material than Lyra had seen since entering the Game. As she changed, she overheard the twins talking in low voices.

  "—neural interface modification," Elijah was saying. "Did you see the response pattern?"

  "Focus on her technical abilities," Alexander replied. "That's what matters now."

  "There's something familiar about—"

  "Elijah." Alexander's tone ended the discussion.

  Lyra tensed. They'd noticed her modified interface. That could be dangerous—unauthorized modifications were grounds for immediate termination from the Game.

  She emerged in the dry clothes, accepting a bowl of hot food from Riva with cautious gratitude. The rich fvor was almost shocking after weeks of bare subsistence.

  "Where are you from?" Alexander asked as she ate.

  Lyra hesitated, then decided there was little point hiding what corporate records could easily verify. "Sector 17."

  Valeria's head snapped toward them. "The restricted disposal zone? Security has reported increased scavenging activity there for years."

  "Valeria," Alexander said sharply. "Enough."

  The tension in the camp was palpable. Lyra finished her food, acutely aware of being assessed from all sides. Marcus maintained a watchful distance, Riva busied herself with equipment, and Valeria made no attempt to hide her hostility.

  Elijah approached, sitting near the fire. "Most Unaligned pyers don't make it this far into Floor 4."

  "Maybe you underestimate Unaligned pyers," Lyra replied.

  "Maybe," Elijah conceded with a slight smile. "Or maybe you're exceptional."

  There was something unsettling about his interest—not threatening like Valeria's suspicion, but probing in a way that made Lyra feel exposed.

  As the team dispersed to their evening tasks, Alexander pulled Valeria aside for a hushed but intense conversation. Though Lyra couldn't hear the words, Valeria's rigid posture and occasional sharp gestures made her opposition clear.

  Elijah remained by the fire, watching Lyra with that perceptive gaze. "Your interface," he said quietly. "It's not standard issue, is it?"

  "It serves its purpose," Lyra replied evasively.

  He held her gaze a moment longer, then nodded as if confirming something to himself.

  As night fell, Riva showed Lyra to a small shelter at the edge of camp. "You can rest here. There's a security field, but it's set to alert, not restrict."

  "So I'm not a prisoner?" Lyra asked.

  "That decision hasn't been made yet," Riva replied with surprising honesty. "Alexander is still considering options."

  Lyra nodded, understanding. Tonight she would have shelter and security, but tomorrow would determine whether this unexpected encounter became an alliance or ended in hostility.

  From her shelter, she could observe the team's continued discussions. Alexander seemed to be evaluating something, reviewing data on his interface while occasionally gncing in her direction. Valeria made no attempt to hide her objections, while Elijah offered occasional input that seemed to give Alexander pause.

  It was clear they were discussing her fate, weighing her potential value against the risk of trusting an Unaligned pyer.

  For now, Lyra was warm, fed, and retively safe—all luxuries in the Game. Tomorrow would bring decisions, but tonight she would rest and recover her strength.

  With her modified interface set to alert her of any approach, Lyra closed her eyes, already pnning her response to whatever offer or threat might come with morning.