Kilo was halfway through his second pastry when Nyota spoke.
"There's something we're missing. But what could it be?"
"Aurora hasn't said much since we got out of there," Sage added.
"Yeah, because she's pissed," Kilo interjected, mouth full. "You know how she is—I mean I'm the same way. Who likes being toyed with?"
The trio walked down the street of a busy commercial area as the sun set, walking through a nearby highway viaduct before making their way past countless storefronts. The smell of warm bread and caramelized sugar spilled from a nearby bakery, soft and golden in the air. Beneath it lingered the after-smell of rain—cool stone, and damp earth.
"Makes you wonder what she doesn't know. Shit, she might even have drones in the sky spying on us."
Sage reprimanded him. "Kilo."
Nyota added. "Yeah. As far as we know, she might even know about Kai."
Sage rested his hands behind his head. "I'm convinced it was just a scare tactic. We know for sure she's onto us; we'll just have to remain vigilant."
"And Malcolm," Nyota shook his head. "I still feel terrible. We didn't just leave him; we left all of those people behind."
Sage jammed his hands into his pockets. "Yeah, I'm not surprised he ratted us out. I'd be mad, too. Maybe we'll still be able to help them out… Somehow."
As their conversation dwindled, the city's hum filled the silence—cars rushing past on the street, neon signs flickering to life, distant chatter weaving through the streets. Nyota's gaze flickered upward instinctively, scanning the dimming sky for anything unnatural. A habit now. A pointless one, maybe. If Noriko had eyes on them, they wouldn't see it coming.
Unbeknownst to them, a lone figure stood at the edge of a rooftop several stories above from a distance, cloaked in shadow against the last streaks of daylight. Orion watched in silence, hood drawn low, his presence hidden from his son's wandering eyes. He had been tracking their movements, studying their patterns—not as a threat, but as an inevitability. The time to intervene was closing in.
However, Orion had watched Nyota long enough to know something was wrong.
He knew Nyota's friends, knew they'd vanished from New Jericho around the same time as the explosions in Blueport a month ago. He'd seen their odd behavior downtown during the protests, standing on rooftops as chaos unfolded below. He had seen it all, but now his son wasn't fighting back.
Orion had expected relentless fury, defiance, reckless action that would show Nyota had regained his memories. But instead, Nyota was just sitting there, thinking. Waiting.
Had Nyota truly remembered everything? Or was his defiance simply inevitable?
What was he waiting for?
Suddenly, a familiar voice cut through the quiet.
"You're confused by how indolent he is."
Orion's fingers tensed, but he didn't flinch.
Noriko appeared behind him, stepping close enough to stand shoulder to shoulder with him, her hands clasped behind her back as she gazed out over the city. Her expression was unreadable, but the smirk on her lips was all too familiar.
"That's the problem with your son," she mused. "All that history—yet he's still predictable. Still… slow."
Orion remained silent, refusing to react. She wanted him to, but he wouldn't give her that satisfaction.
"I suppose you wouldn't know, since you weren't there."
Orion finally turned to look at her. "Weren't where?"
Her head tilted, amusement flickering in her eyes. "The trial, Orion. The part where I watched him squirm. I summoned Nyota and his friends to court. My ruling."
Orion's blood ran cold.
Noriko's smile widened. "But who am I kidding? Of course you didn't know."
"What do you want?"
"What I want is for you to get your son under control. Either whatever his late mentor told him about how things work around here is firmly stuck in his head, or he's somehow gotten his memories back… or both. I'm dying to know. After the trial, I let them off the hook. I'm sure they're smart enough—they ought to know their alibi sucked, so they must be dying to know what I've got planned for them next."
"I thought we had a deal. That you wouldn't hurt him."
Noriko's smile twisted into something darker. "See, I'm not sure what you think our arrangement is, but you're at my mercy. You practically begged me to keep your son alive! And out of the kindness of my heart, I obliged. But then, you wouldn't even reveal his name. I had to play the guessing game for months. That was, until the cadet tournament."
Her gaze turned steely, cold anger lacing her voice. "And now it seems there's a strong chance he might actually remember who you are—somehow. If that's the case, getting him to listen should be a problem. If not, well… you'll be the one responsible for controlling him. If you don't, I will. And I won't hesitate."
She stepped closer, her tone now sharp, venomous. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that, because I've got much more… creative plans for him. Plans I'm sure you'll find agreeable."
"What plans?" Orion asked, keeping his composure.
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," she snapped, her voice colder than before. "You've got your secrets, I've got mine. But don't think for a second I've forgotten how you disappeared last year—took months, traveling, leaving me in the dark about your whereabouts. And I'm still wondering what you were up to."
Her narrowed eyes locked onto his, her words like a dagger in the air. "I'm surprised you came back at all. Don't think I'll let you disappear again. Ever."
Her voice grew sharper still, a dangerous edge cutting through the words. "What's more, I still don't know what your Modus is. I know you're strong, Orion. I must admit, that's part of my problem—because I'm dying to know just how strong you are."
Orion stood rigid, his expression unreadable, as Noriko's words hung in the air, sharp and biting. A cold knot twisted in his gut, but he didn't let it show. He had expected her to push, to test him, but the way she twisted the knife, the raw venom in her voice—it unsettled him in a way he hadn't anticipated.
He wasn't afraid of her. He knew how to play this game, he'd been playing it for years. But the thought of his son—his son, who might remember, who might be getting closer to the truth—tugged at him. Nyota's memories, his silence, his waiting, it all seemed to be happening too fast now. Orion's mind flickered with images of his past, of the choices he'd made, and the weight of the promises he'd kept.
Noriko wanted control, wanted power over him, over his son, but the truth was Orion had already lost so much to her, and now she was coming for more. She wasn't just trying to break Nyota; she was trying to break him.
The problem was, Orion wasn't sure how much longer he could keep pretending to be the man she thought he was.