As the meal stretched on, the clink of forks and murmur of conversation softened into a warm rhythm. But then, as though someone had tugged a thread in the tapestry of comfort, Zod’s voice cut through.

  “Tee,” he asked suddenly, “why did you get called back?”

  Her fork stilled midair. Heat crawled up her neck. He was referring to her summon to the elders—the place where everything had shifted, where her secret had been silently unveiled. She forced her body to relax, let a faint smile tug at her lips, and lied with ease.

  “It’s to do with my hair,” she said. “Apparently, they had an issue with my hair color. But I told them it’s a genetic condition and not dye.”

  Zod frowned. “That’s strange. I saw soldiers with odd-colored hair.”

  “There’s a system to it,” Tee replied, her tone almost academic. “Hair colors mark different purposes and ranks. You’ll notice you never see anyone with white hair. But since mine’s genetic, they let it slide.”

  Kie’s voice cut in, flat but edged with something sharper. “You must get a lot of stares.”

  Tee didn’t like the attention—not the whispers, not the eyes on her. Still, she steadied herself, met his gaze. His eyes were deep red, striking enough to burn into memory. Gorgeous, in a dangerous way. She shrugged. “I’m used to it. I could say the same for you and your scars.”

  Kie blinked hard. The words landed like stones. For a moment his composure cracked, then he rebuilt it, shrugging almost identically. “Same. I’m used to it.”

  Zod leaned forward, his curiosity unchained. “Why do you have that many scars, anyway?”

  “Zod!” Saeda nudged him sharply with her elbow, shooting him a glare.

  “What?” Zod said defensively, eyes wide with innocence. “It’s a simple question.”

  But the silence that followed said otherwise. A personal question. A dangerous one. And yet, Tee could feel it: they all wanted to know.

  Kie sighed, the weight in the sound enough to drag the air down with it. “I’ve been in the Mid-Guard since I was ten. That’s your answer.”

  Tee’s eyes widened. “You’re nineteen, aren’t you?”

  Kie didn’t answer directly. He raised a cup of juice, swallowing it like a shield. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Zod, either oblivious or too stubborn, pushed again. “So… I’m guessing you’ve had a lot of Xenosapian encounters, huh?”

  Kie didn’t acknowledge him. His jaw flexed once, then stilled.

  Zod filled the silence, as though afraid to leave it empty. “Well, I’ve only been in the MG for a year.”

  “Same,” said Saeda, Miko, and Tee in unison, surprising themselves into faint laughter.

  Zod grinned at the coincidence. “I’ve never had any close encounters. I always run when I hear commotion. I heard that if one of those things looks you in the eye, it means you’re gonna die soon.”

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  “Really?” Tee asked, her lips quirking. “Because I looked one right in the eye a couple weeks ago.”

  Zod stared at her. “That’s… not good.” He pivoted quickly. “What about you, Saeda?”

  Saeda twirled a strand of hair, her gaze distant. “I saw two attacks. Troopers were killed, but I never saw the Xenosapian itself.”

  Miko chimed in next. “They aren’t common near my Mid-Guard’s district. One of the safest places on Geovalon, actually.”

  “Lucky you,” Tee muttered.

  Zod turned to the one person who hadn’t really spoken. “What about you, big man? Since you’ve been there forever, you must have stories. How many close encounters have you had?”

  Kie’s eyes darkened. “Too many to count. And I don’t want to talk about it.” He blinked hard, his jaw tightening. “Too many deaths.”

  Zod wasn’t ready to give up. “Come on. Just one story.”

  “Yeah,” Tee added, her curiosity stronger than her caution. “We’d all like to know.”

  Saeda nodded gently. “It doesn’t have to be long.”

  Miko stayed quiet, watching with cautious eyes.

  Kie exhaled slowly, setting down his fork. “Fine. I wasn’t there for the start, but this is how it was told to me.”

  The others leaned forward. His posture changed subtly, his lids lowering halfway as if to shield himself from the memory. His red eyes gleamed through the narrow slit, restless with old ghosts.

  Tee’s breath hitched; she found herself staring, unable to look away. Even scarred, even hardened, he was handsome in a way that burned itself into her mind.

  “It was close to global curfew,” he began. His voice lowered, steady but carrying weight. “The sun was sinking, and the fog rolled in fast. The tall buildings choked out the last of the light. We troopers were still on patrol through the streets. Routine. Boring.”

  Tee tilted her head, surprised. Boring patrols? He made it sound almost normal.

  “We did stupid things to pass the time,” he went on. “Study for MS tests with bendy cards. Doze off standing up. Make moves on whoever caught your eye. Watch the clock crawl toward five.” He gave a humorless smile, then lifted his fork, took a quick bite, and swallowed without pause. “Anyway, the houses in the city were all the same—two stories, flat-topped, ugly. And that’s where this started.”

  Miko leaned forward, her eyes wide with anticipation. “Please… tell us one with a happy ending.”

  Kie froze. Her words hit like stones thrown into still water. His brows furrowed, his gaze dropping to the plate before him. After a long pause, he nodded once. “One happy ending, coming right up.” His voice carried a sharp edge of insincerity, but Miko missed it. Her smile only grew.

  “They said troopers started heading back to Mid-Guard HQ before the hour. That’s when five on roof surveillance noticed someone missing. Nagato. Sloppy guy. Weak stamina. Always lagged behind.”

  The corners of Kie’s lips twitched into a smirk. “One trooper joked about leaving him behind, claimed dibs on his lunches for a week. That’s when a girl on the squad shouted. She was holding Nagato’s headphones. Looked over the edge—saw his chip bag on the ground.”

  “They jumped down?” Saeda asked quietly.

  Kie nodded. “Yeah. They wore the boots. Rubber soles, shockproof. We all had them.”

  Tee chuckled softly, remembering. “I got suspended once for buying a pair. Apparently only Mid-Guard troopers could wear them. As if practicing early was a crime.”

  Kie gave her a fleeting glance before continuing. “On the ground, the fog was thicker. The alleys were darker. Doors slammed shut, shutters locked, metal grilles clanked. Civilians knew better than to be caught outside then. It was getting closer to global curfew..”

  He paused long enough to take another mouthful, chewing slower that time.

  “They picked up the chip bag. Huddled together, debating whether to look for him or run back before curfew. Some say they feared punishment if Nagato was abandoned—he had breathing problems, needed monitoring. Either way, they stayed. And that decision changed everything.”

  The table had gone silent. Even Zod’s usually restless mouth hung still.

  Tee leaned forward slightly, her heart tightening. She didn’t know why, but she wanted the story to go on, to peel back one of the countless scars written across Kie’s skin.