Kael tiptoed away from the sofa, the Haven's soft creaks hushed beneath his cautious steps.
Rhea's steady breathing trailed him, her blanket-draped form bathed in the TV's faint glow.
He slipped into his bedroom, easing the door shut with a quiet click, and pulled his phone from his pocket.
The screen's light pierced the dimness as he dialed Harris's number, leaning against his cluttered desk—scattered notes, a cold coffee mug, and a crumpled wrapper testament to a long day.
The line buzzed once, twice, then connected. "Drayce?" Harris's voice rumbled through.
"Thank you, Harris," Kael said, his tone soft but heartfelt, a smile tugging at his lips.
Harris chuckled, a rough, warm sound. "No need. She saved my team out there—Silk Siren'd be a goner without her. Gator Grip and Titan Pulse too, if they'd pulled through."
"You could've dropped that robot in a minute," Kael pointed out, pacing a slow circle in the tight space. "But you handed Rhea the reins."
