Callum exhaled slowly, rubbing his forehead. "If Shen Jue—Jian Ren—is truly the Emperor's brother, then war isn't just coming. It's already here. If he's acting on Jinhai's orders, we need to accelerate firearm production immediately."
He folded his arms. "But if he's acting alone… that's an even bigger problem. Because that means we don't just have a war to prepare for—we have to figure out what the hell his real goal is."
The room fell into silence. The weight of those words sank in.
Emery took a slow breath, steadying himself.
"Then we move faster. No matter which it is… we're running out of time."
Before he could take another step, his legs gave out.
Callum, already anticipating this, caught him with a steady grip, slinging one of Emery's arms over his shoulders in a firm side hug.
"Alright, genius, you're done pretending you can stand."
Emery let out a weak chuckle, breathless. "Yeah, yeah… but this means I'll actually have to build the motor, electrical relay, and the bulb. No more theories."
Callum sighed. "You really know how to pick your moments."
Emery turned his head slightly toward Zafira, his expression suddenly serious.
"And this time, you're helping."
Zafira scoffed in confusion, crossing her arms. "I don't know jack shit about this stuff."
Emery let out an exasperated sigh. "Hard labour, obviously, dumbass. You think I need you doing calculations? I need an extra pair of hands to make sure none of this collapses on itself."
Without waiting for a response, Emery trudged back toward the underground engine room, determination cutting through his exhaustion. The space was chaos incarnate—wires, metal scraps, and chalk-dusted blueprints covering every available surface.
For hours, he worked in relentless silence, theory-crafting and adjusting schematics, his mind locked in the intricate dance of problem-solving. Every failed circuit, every miscalculated output forced him to start again, refining, pushing forward. The first prototype for the electrical relay began to take shape.
By the dead of night, exhaustion claimed everyone. Callum, Feng, Lianfei, and Chen had collapsed amidst the scattered papers and scribbled equations, bodies sprawled over makeshift bedding of old cloth and workbenches. The lab was dimly lit, only the faint glow of a lantern casting shadows over the aftermath of their effort.
Emery lay beside Zafira, staring at the ceiling, his muscles aching from overuse. The sound of quiet, steady breathing filled the space. After a long pause, he finally spoke.
"You still think I'm too soft?"
Zafira huffed, shifting slightly but not looking at him.
"I think you're stubborn. And idealistic. But… soft? Maybe not in science."
Emery let out a tired chuckle. "That sounds like a compliment."
"Don't get used to it" she muttered. "You still piss me off most of the time."
Emery smirked slightly, letting the silence stretch before dropping his voice to a whisper.
"What if I betrayed you?"
Zafira turned her head slightly, eyes narrowing. "You wouldn't."
"Of course not" he admitted easily. "But what if? Hypothetically."
She exhaled through her nose, clearly unamused. "Then I'd kill you. Slowly. And personally."
Emery chuckled, shaking his head. "Not even a little hesitation?"
Zafira rolled her eyes. "You already know the answer to that, dumbass."
But there was something different in her voice—something off.
Emery noticed it immediately. A subtle shift, a weight behind her words that hadn't been there before.
Zafira exhaled, staring at the ceiling. When she spoke again, her tone was quieter, tinged with something Emery almost wanted to call sentimentality.
"I mean… you and I have been together for years now. Since you were at that spice shop spouting bullshit equations and theories. We traveled stormy seas together, nearly got lost more times than I care to count. I still remember you forcing your half-dead body to steer the sails while I screwed up the material logs and left you to cover my ass."
She let out a breath, almost a bitter laugh. "So yeah… I would be actually sad if you did."
Emery let out a short laugh and punched her lightly on the shoulder. "As if I would betray you."
Zafira snorted, rubbing the spot with mock irritation. "Better not."
Emery smirked, his gaze drifting upward as memories flickered through his exhausted mind.
"Remember when I accidentally blew up our campfire with that experiment? We lost all the fish we caught, and we had to survive on hard bread for days until we got another shipment of food."
Zafira groaned. "Don't remind me. I can still taste that stale garbage."
Emery chuckled, shaking his head. "Or the time we got lost looking for Layla's engine? The entire crew had to camp out for over a week while we tried to find our way back."
Zafira sighed. "Yeah, and I had to listen to you whine about how inefficient our mapping system was the entire time."
"It was inefficient" Emery shot back, grinning.
"That's why I fixed it."
She rolled her eyes, but there was a small smile tugging at her lips.
"Yeah, yeah. You're a genius, we get it."
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The room was quiet, save for the soft sounds of the others sleeping, exhaustion having claimed them all.
Then, as if caught in the moment, Emery and Zafira slowly turned their heads toward each other. Their eyes met, lingering. The dim lantern light cast soft shadows over her face, highlighting the sharp edge of her jaw, her pretty brown eyes and her smooth brown skin with the tired yet defiant glint in her gaze. Emery couldn't look away.
Something about the way she was staring at him made his chest tighten, as if a long-forgotten memory had surfaced. And then, it did.
"Christmas day" he murmured, more to himself than her.
Zafira blinked, her expression shifting. "What?"
Emery exhaled a small laugh, shaking his head. "That stupid scarf I gave you. The one I made myself."
Her lips parted slightly before curling into something unreadable. "You mean the hideous, uneven mess of cloth you called a scarf? Yeah, I remember."
Emery groaned. "It wasn't that bad you know."
Zafira let out a breath, reaching to the small pouch at her belt. "You think I'd throw it away?"
She pulled out a worn, tattered scrap of fabric. What remained of that scarf had been through hell—weathered, frayed, barely holding together—but it was still there.
Emery stared at it, something tightening in his throat. "You… actually kept it?"
Zafira rolled her eyes but didn't hide the small, almost embarrassed smile on her lips.
"Yeah. Even through all the shit we've been through."
Emery huffed, shaking his head. "That's… kind of stupid."
Zafira smirked. "Says the idiot who made it."
And for the first time in what felt like years, they both laughed. Then, as the laughter faded, Emery exhaled and turned his head toward her, his voice softer now.
"You knew, didn't you? That I was tricking you into working on firearms from Layla's engine."
Zafira didn't deny it. Instead, she let out a slow breath, eyes fixed on the ceiling.
"I did. But I'm proud of you for finally standing up for yourself… besides the whole budget issue."
Emery chuckled dryly. "You're never letting that go, huh?"
Zafira smirked, shaking her head. "Not a chance. But… thanks. For putting up with my bullshit. My emotions. And—" she hesitated before sighing, "—for Jian. I won't apologize for killing him, because I'd do it again. Ten times over."
Emery closed his eyes, his voice barely above a whisper. "Yeah… and he would've done the same." He let out a tired breath.
"I was just idealistic."
Silence settled between them, heavy but understood. Then, slowly, exhaustion took hold, and without another word, they both drifted into sleep.
Unbeknownst to them, Callum had been quietly listening in and stood up without sound, just beyond the dim glow of the lanterns.
He watched the two, their quiet confessions lingering in the air, before letting out a soft sigh.
Shaking his head, he pulled a blanket over both of them, tucking it in just enough to keep the cold from creeping in.
"You two should just be honest already" he muttered under his breath before turning away, leaving them to their well-earned rest.