Sil watched as the door closed quietly behind his brothers, a soft click resonating in the emptiness of the apartment. The stillness felt heavy, as though the walls themselves mourned the absence of familiar voices.
The silence, rather than soothing, felt oppressive—like a blanket wrapped too tightly around his shoulders, suffocating rather than warming. Sil paced, footsteps echoing softly against polished wood floors, his restless strides carving an unseen path into the heart of the room.
***
Just a short while later, on the other side of the building—
Shiro sat in a statuesque quietude behind his expansive desk, eyes tightly shut, the furrow between his brows growing deeper with every passing moment. His fingertips pressed hard against the bridge of his nose, a silent anchor tethering him to a stormy sea of contemplation. The room, normally bustling with lively strategizing and the rhythmic hum of office machinery, now seemed oppressively still, as if even the air had paused to listen.
Vorden shifted his weight subtly, the silence bearing down upon him with tangible pressure. Glancing sideways at Raten, he noticed his brother equally restless, fingers tapping quietly against the arm of his chair in an unconscious rhythm.
"Look," Vorden finally broke the heavy silence, his voice low but resolute. "I'm not exactly Bliss' biggest fan. She meddles, complicates, and even when she helps, trouble usually follows close behind. Risking ourselves for her… It's not exactly at the top of the list of things I would ever want to do. Hell, it's not even close to the half way point, let alone the top. In fact I am pretty confident that it is very near the bottom, just above fighting with a two spike Dalki."
Raten let out a wicked chuckle from Vorden's side. His brother's encouragement caused a smirk to tug at the corner of his mouth. Shiro just sighed deeply, shaking his head.
He paused, the quiet stretching thinly between them once more before his eyes softened slightly. "But she did sacrifice herself, didn't she? Maybe not for all of us, but definitely for Sil. And in his eyes, that's enough reason."
Raten snorted softly, his dark eyes narrowing with familiar disdain for complicated emotional entanglements. Yet even he couldn't dismiss the weight in Sil's voice when he'd pleaded his case earlier. "Yeah," Raten admitted reluctantly, "and he's pretty damned determined."
Vorden opened his mouth again, hesitation flickering in his eyes. Sil had been acting peculiar since he'd returned. There was an elusive darkness behind his brother's usually bright gaze, something unsaid that gnawed at the edge of Vorden's consciousness. But doubt quickly bloomed into guilt, twisting sharply in his chest, prompting him to clamp down on his suspicions before they could escape into the open air.
Shiro's eyes opened slowly, glinting like polished obsidian beneath the natural light that permiated the office. His gaze was penetrating, searching each of their faces methodically. "Do you think it's a suicide mission?"
Vorden exchanged a fleeting look with Raten. It lasted mere seconds, but it spoke volumes—an that unspoken dialogue woven through a lifetime of shared battles and silent understandings. He straightened slightly, his voice stronger now, steeped in conviction. "We're not Sil, on our own anyway. But the three of us together, with Sil's soul weapon at hand, I think we've got more than a fighting chance."
Shiro absorbed his words, his gaze distant yet acutely sharp, sifting through layers of past memories and strategic calculations. Finally, he sighed, shaking his head with reluctant resignation. "And it's not like we can stop him, even if we wanted to. The man owns the entire faction—the complex, the ships, all the damn tech. He's grown, he's a damn godslayer. If he can't slay some gods then, what are we even doing? What choice do we have anyhow, but to trust him?"
"If anyone can pull this off," Raten added, a grim but proud smirk tugging at his lips, "it's Sil."
Shiro's eyes softened, a faint trace of worry bleeding through the confident exterior. "Then there's only one real question left." He leaned forward, gaze shifting meaningfully between them both. "Have either of you bothered asking your wives what they think about this?"
The brothers glanced at each other again, a swift current of anxiety shimmering beneath their normally composed exteriors. Vorden shifted uncomfortably. "We can't let anyone know Sil's alive. Not even them."
"Then how exactly do you plan to explain disappearing into space on a potentially lethal celestial mission?" Shiro pressed gently.
Vorden exhaled slowly, eyes darkening with contemplation. "I don't want to burden Jade, especially now. She's close—really close to labor. Telling her about Sil's death—or even hinting that something bigger might be wrong—it would only add unnecessary stress."
Raten tilted his head thoughtfully. "How long until the kid's due, anyway?"
"Two months," Vorden responded quietly, tension visibly coiling through his frame as the weight of the renewrd senseof impending fatherhood merged uncomfortably with his role as a warrior.
Shiro sat back, contemplative. "Then that's your window. Take whatever preparations you need, but make damned sure you're back by then." His voice softened slightly, genuine concern threading his tone as he added, "Just… make it back, alright, Vorden?"
Raten, ever practical beneath layers of bravado, interjected decisively. "Cassie and Emy could stay with Jade while we're gone."
Vorden's brows lifted, relief visibly washing over him. "That's… actually perfect. I'll leave my transport with Cassie. She can return it so Jade can use it in the case of an emergency."
Raten nodded approvingly. "At least she'll have backup, just in case things get complicated."
Shiro rose slowly from his chair, the decision made, his air authoritative once more. "Then it's settled. I'll handle Cassidy's schedule and make sure her responsibilities here are covered."
When Vorden and Raten returned to the apartment, they found Sil pacing anxiously, restless energy pouring from his frame like static electricity. His head snapped toward them instantly, eyes wide and searching.
"So?" Sil's voice was tense, edged with uncertainty and hope.
Raten grinned wickedly, easing the atmosphere with his familiar bravado. "Looks like we're going celestial hunting, Sil."
Sil's face erupted into a radiant smile, relief cascading through him as he strode forward swiftly, gripping his brothers' shoulders with earnest warmth. "Thank you, both of you," he whispered fiercely, voice thick with gratitude and resolve.
Vorden nodded resolutely, determination igniting in his own chest. "Alright, let's lay this out. We need to know everything—about these celestials, their abilities, their weaknesses, and exactly where we can find these bastards."
Sil's eyes lit up, the spark of battle lust and camaraderie reigniting within him. His fingers tightened briefly on their shoulders in solidarity. "Alright," he murmured, voice steady, potent with newfound determination. Then, in a sudden burst of boyish excitement, he pumped a fist triumphantly. "Let's do this."
The three brothers, forged by fire and tempered by countless trials, stood together once more, each aware that the path ahead was perilous. Yet in that moment, a silent bond strengthened and a shared resolve solidified, readying them for the storm to come.