The terminal dock loomed ahead, an enormous sprawl of polished metal and glass reaching for the sky like it had something to prove. The sheer scale of it was overwhelming—ships of every size and class docked in rows, their hulls gleaming under the harsh, artificial light. Everything about this place screamed efficiency. Workers in crisp uniforms moved in practised patterns, security officers keeping watch with an air of silent authority.

I could hear the steady hum of engines reverberating through the floor beneath me, mixed with the low chatter of voices drowned out by the constant mechanical noise. Overhead, giant holo screens flickered, flashing updates on arrivals and departures, ads for luxury cruises, and political broadcasts. The smell—sterile but with a sharp edge of burned fuel—hit me the moment we stepped off the ship.

Jax didn’t waste any time. The second we were on solid ground, he was already leading the way, weaving through the crowd with a sense of purpose that didn’t leave room for hesitation. The first set of security scanners was just up ahead, and I could already see the guards stiffening as we approached. Not because of me, though—because of him.

As soon as Jax flashed his ID, their expressions shifted. They barely gave us a second look, waving us through like we weren’t even worth the hassle. “Lord Draven,” one of them muttered, nodding in a way that made my stomach twist.

I bit down hard, forcing myself to stay quiet. This was going to be a long walk.

Jax kept us moving, cutting through the lines like a knife through water. Every time we hit a checkpoint, the same thing happened—he’d show the ID, the Draven name would flash on their screens, and just like that, doors opened. No scans. No questioning. No delays. I watched the whole process unfold, and with each effortless pass, the knot of frustration inside me tightened.

I’ve never liked using the name. Sure, it made things easier and got me through doors that would otherwise slam shut in my face, but that wasn’t how I’d built myself. I earned what I had, scraped and fought for every inch of it. The Draven name wasn’t mine to claim—it was just a shortcut, a cheat code to a game I refused to play by anyone else’s rules.

But today, I couldn’t argue. We needed speed; the name was the fastest way to cut through all the red tape. Still, that didn’t stop the irritation from bubbling up every time Jax casually dropped it like a trump card.

“Move along, Lord Draven,” another officer muttered as we passed, not even bothering to look up from his console. I clenched my jaw, the words cutting deep. There was nothing personal about it, but that only made it worse. They didn’t care who I was or what I’d done—just that name.

Jax glanced back, catching my expression. “You know this is necessary, right?” he said under his breath. “It’s not like we can stand around arguing with every checkpoint.”

He was right, of course. Arguing wasn’t going to get us anywhere, and we couldn’t afford to waste time. But that didn’t stop the resentment from building with every step we took. It was the kind of bitter pill I hated swallowing.

As we finally pushed through the last set of security barriers, emerging into the main terminal, I forced the tension in my shoulders to relax. This wasn’t the time to let old grievances distract me. We had bigger things to worry about than my discomfort with the Draven name.

But that didn’t mean I had to like it.

We boarded one of the sleek hover transports that hovered just above the city streets, its engines humming softly as it waited for passengers to fill its cabin. The doors slid open with a mechanical hiss, and Jax motioned for to wait. He stepped in, checking the inside of the transport. Before stepping back out. He nodded for me to step inside.

I quickly settled into one of the back seats while Jax and Zara followed close behind. The cabin was well-lit, with wide windows offering a panoramic view of the sprawling capital outside, but the moment we sat down, I could feel the weight of eyes on me.

I hated the attention. The way people would stare as if they knew something about me that I didn’t want to share. Maybe they did. The damned Draven name carried weight everywhere, even if I wished it didn’t. I shifted in my seat, trying to focus on the view outside as the other passengers boarded, whispering among themselves, their gazes flitting in my direction. I ignored them as best I could.

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Zara fidgeted beside me. "I should probably get back to my ship," she muttered, breaking the silence. "I need to check on a few things, make sure everything’s in order."

Before I could respond, Jax cut in, his tone firm but not unkind. "You’ll have to stay with us for now. It’s too risky to go back. We need to keep a low profile, and that means sticking together."

Zara opened her mouth to protest, but Jax’s look silenced her. She glanced at me, her eyes searching for some kind of confirmation. I just nodded. As much as I wanted to give her an out, Jax was right.

After a few moments, she sighed and leaned back in her seat. “Fine,” she muttered. Then, more softly, “Thanks, by the way. For getting me out of that mess.”

I glanced at her, then back at the window. “Don’t mention it,” I said, though my voice sounded quieter than intended. After a pause, I added, “I know what it’s like to get kicked when you’re down.”

Zara looked surprised, her brows knitting together as if she were about to argue, but Jax quickly interrupted her. "Just listen," he said quietly, a glance toward me telling her she needed to hear this.

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees, my voice low enough that only she and Jax could hear. “I didn’t grow up with the Draven name,” I started, my throat tightening as the memories surfaced. “I was adopted. Pulled out of an orphanage when I was nine.”

Zara’s eyes widened in shock. "You? Adopted?"

I gave a short nod, staring down at the floor. “The Dravens weren’t my family. Not by blood. But they took me in. They needed to have a second son. The Emperor is quite strict about keeping to his traditions. I was insurance. Insurance if something went wrong with the first born son. That didn’t make things easier, though. Life was still... complicated. Tough, even. I had to prove myself every day, and the name didn’t always open doors back then.”

Jax, leaning back in his seat, chimed in. “I was in the orphanage with Alex,” he said, his voice calm but edged with the same gravity I felt. “When he was adopted, he convinced his new father to take me as well. It took some effort, but he got it done. They trained me and made me part of the staff. Eventually, they gave me a position as his assistant. But before that, we were in the same place, same struggles.”

Zara looked between the two of us, her expression a mixture of surprise and something else. Empathy, maybe. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat as if she didn’t quite know what to say.

"You don’t have to explain," she murmured, her voice hesitant.

"I do, though," I said, meeting her gaze. "Because I understand what it’s like to feel trapped. To have everything go wrong when all you’ve ever done is try your best. It’s easy to think that no one’s been through what you have, but I’ve been there, too. So I get it. I get why you fight so hard to keep control of what’s yours.”

Zara’s eyes softened, and for the first time since we boarded, she looked down, her hands twisting in her lap. “I didn’t know...” she started, but her voice trailed off.

I offered a small, strained smile. “You wouldn’t have. It's not readily available public knowledge. And to be honest. I don’t talk about it much.”

Jax placed a hand on Zara’s shoulder. “He’s been through a lot, but that’s why we’re here. We’ve all got a past, Zara. You’re not alone in that.”

She looked up at him, then at me, her expression unreadable. Finally, she nodded, a quiet understanding passing between us.

The hum of the hover transport engines filled the silence that followed as it weaved its way through the endless traffic. I kept my gaze fixed on the view outside, watching the sprawling skyline unfold before us. The MedTech Nexus Hub rose into the sky like a gleaming monolith. The building was impossible to miss. Massive, with sharp, clean lines that reflected the light. Its surface was flawless chrome and glass, casting harsh reflections across the nearby streets. It looked like it belonged to a future that hadn’t yet arrived, towering over everything with a presence demanding attention.

I could see the Draven family crest stamped into each side of the building as we neared. As we exited the Transport and stepped through the front doors of the building, the stark white of the main foyer was almost blinding. Every wall, every surface was immaculate, pristine, as if no one had ever dared touch it. The damned family crest was etched into the marble floors, walls, and even the high ceilings. It made my stomach churn.

Jax led the way through the lobby, cutting through the throngs of people waiting for appointments or check-ins. His confident stride parted the crowd without a word, and they moved aside instinctively, eyes darting toward the crest on his jacket. I kept my head down, following closely behind, trying to ignore the stares and whispers that followed us. I looked back. Giving Zara a small smile in an attempt to get her to relax.

"MedTech Nexus Hub," Jax announced as we approached a secured corridor, tapping into the console with practised ease. “This is where we need to be.”

I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of everything that came with being here. The Nexus was the heart of our family’s influence in medical technology, the place where I would finally be fitted with the NeuroCore Nexus implants. I only hoped that I would be able to get the standard military one.

"Ready?" Jax asked, his voice cutting through my thoughts.

I nodded, “Let’s get this over with.”