The hangar hummed with tension, sharp as ion engines cycling up. Seraphina stood at the centre of it, her tactical gear still smelling of fresh polymer, her hands clasped tightly behind her back to hide their tremor.

Elara, as always, flanked her, a statue of cold steel, while Zara leaned against a nearby fuel drum, arms crossed, her glare hot enough to melt steel. Lyra hovered near a holographic schematic of the Iron Spire, her fingers dancing over the flickering data streams like a conductor orchestrating chaos.

“The Spire’s structural decay isn’t just mechanical,” Lyra said, her voice clinical but edged with unease. She zoomed in on a jagged fissure snaking through the lower levels. “These stress fractures align with seismic activity. Someone is purposefully trying to bring the spire down.”

Seraphina stepped forward, her boots echoing. “Do we know who? Or why?”

Lyra hesitated. “Your father’s signature is on a dozen classified reports about ‘energy anomalies’ in the Caverns below the spire. Whatever is down there, they buried, it’s tied to the damage and potential Spire collapse.”

Zara shoved off the drum. “So the Caverns are a bomb, and Draven’s walking straight into the blast zone. Great. Why are we still here?”

“Because you’re not going.” Seraphina’s voice cut through the hangar.

Zara let out a sharp, humourless laugh. “You think I will stand here while you play hero?”

“Alex needs you here,” Seraphina said, forcing herself to meet Zara’s searing gaze. “The ministers are circling. If they suspect he’s vulnerable, they’ll tear him apart. You’re the only one he trusts fully out of us four.”

Zara’s laugh was brittle. “And you’re the one he doesn’t trust. So what’s your play, Lady Valtor? Redemption? Or another scheme?”

Seraphina flinched. The family title hung over her head like a curse.

Elara stepped in, her tone blade-sharp. “The play is survival. For all of us. Or does your pride matter more than his life?”

Zara’s hand twitched toward her knife.

“Enough.” Lyra’s hologram flickered as she slammed a fist on the console. “We’re wasting time. Seraphina’s right—the Caverns have to be the key. But if we’re doing this, we do it smart.”

Elara nodded. “I've procured Two additional guards. Veterans from the outer rim. They know the Spire’s underbelly.”

Seraphina opened her mouth to protest, but Elara silenced her with a look. “This isn’t a negotiation. You’re not dying on my watch. Unlike Alex, I am not letting you walk into a potential trap without extra security. This isn't up for debate, Sera.”

Zara bristled, memories flashing back to the space station. “Now wait a—”

Elara cut her off with a glare. “That wasn’t a shot at you. Alex is…” She hesitated, then exhaled sharply. “He’s impossible to guard. You did the best anyone could.”

“Ah.. thanks?” Replied Zara. Her confusion wasn’t alone. Seraphina and Lyra stared at Elara.

Lyra shook herself for a second before turning back to a screen. “Ok. Everyone rest and get ready. We are leaving First thing tomorrow morning. Zara. Keep Alex safe.”

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Zara nodded before walking off, making her way back to the Razorwing. Seraphina nodded and left shortly after. Elara followed her silently.

Seraphina was glad it was only a short walk to her quarters. Her mind was a mix of half-baked plans and things she needed to do.

The door hissed shut behind her, sealing Seraphina in silence. She slumped against the wall, her resolve crumbling.

Alex’s voice, raw with betrayal: “You’re just another snake in my court.”

She pressed her palms to her eyes as if she could crush the memory—a knock.

“Go away, Elara.”

“It’s me.” Zara’s voice, grudging.

The door slid open. Zara stood framed in the corridor’s harsh light, her arms crossed, her posture rigid. “You’re wrong, you know.”

Seraphina didn’t move. “About what?”

“Him.” Zara’s jaw tightened. “He does trust you. Or he did. That’s why it gutted him.”

Seraphina’s breath hitched. A voice, sharp as a knife, echoed in her mind. “Trust is a blade, girl. You let them close enough to wield it; you deserve the wound.” Her father’s grip crushed her shoulder—his breath, thick and reeking, coiled around her like a noose.

She swallowed the phantom bitterness. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I’m not you.” Zara turned to leave. Her face held a pain that Seraphina knew all too well. “Don’t make him regret it twice.”

Seraphina stared as the door slid shut. Her mind replayed the conversation repeatedly, each repetition sharpening the ache. She dared to hope. To believe.

“Alex—”

It came tumbling out as Seraphina sank back to the ground and cried.

The floor’s chill seeped into her bones, dragging her back to another cold surface—the isolation chamber’s metal slab. Her fists were bloodied from pounding on the door. Her mother’s voice through the vents: “Tears won’t unlock this door. Control will.”

Alex’s voice, cutting through the sterile silence of his quarters: “You don’t have to pretend with me.”

She’d frozen, her fingers still tangled in his hair. No one had ever said that to her. Not Elara. Not her tutors. Not even herself.

His hand had brushed hers, calloused and warm.

Seraphina reached out, her hand clutching at the air before her as another memory slammed home.

-her mother’s manicured nails digging into her chin, forcing her to meet those icy eyes. “You will marry. You will smile. You will not disgrace us.”

“I am not a Valtor” " she whispered to herself. “I am me. And I will... I will give everything to prove it.”

Seraphina repeated the line repeatedly as she finally fell asleep on the floor. Her dreams haunted her.

When the door opened the following morning, She was ready. Her mask was back in place as she swept past Elara. Making her way to the Hanger again. She had a focus and knew Letting go wasn't an option.

The shuttle’s ramp lowered with a groan as Seraphina paused at the hanger threshold, her gaze sweeping the space. Lyra chattered nervously with the guards, Elara running a final systems check.

A hand gripped her arm.

“Wait.” Zara thrust a pulse pistol into her hands. “Come back whole. Or don’t come back at all.”

Seraphina met her glare. “I will.”

As the shuttle ascended, Lyra leaned over, her voice low. “I intercepted a transmission from the Spire’s under levels. Someone’s down there—someone not on our roster.”

The screen flickered. A grainy image: a girl with copper hair and glowing veins, flanked by a scarred man in militia gear.

Seraphina’s pulse spiked. “Who is she?”

Lyra zoomed in on the girl’s metallic shimmer. “Whoever she is, she’s got tech that shouldn’t exist.”

She glanced at Seraphina. “And they are already ahead of us.”