The abandoned building that had served as their refuge felt smaller than ever. The air inside was thick with tension, pressing down on them like an unspoken weight. They had gathered in a loose circle, the remnants of their last battle still evident in the bruises and cuts on their skin.
Razor stood at the center, arms crossed, his usual composure strained. "We move before sundown. If Blaze is still alive, we're getting him back."
Cipher exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "You say that like it's that simple. The place he's being held? It's a heavily guarded black site. We don't even have full shit—just whatever Myst pulled from XENIS-IS before nearly frying herself."
All eyes flickered toward Myst.
She was seated on the edge of a broken table, rolling her shoulder like she could shake off the lingering fatigue. "I gave you the coordinates," she said, voice even but quieter than usual. "If we don't act now, it might be too late."
"That's what I'm saying!" Echo cut in, stepping forward. "We lost people before, but Blaze—he's one of us. I don't care if it's a black site or the damn gates of hell. We go in, no hesitation."
Shade, who had been silent until now, leaned against the far wall. "Rushing in without a plan gets people killed."
A sharp silence followed. The weight of those words pressed on them all.
"Then we make a plan," Nyx said, his voice calm but firm. His arms were crossed, but his eyes weren't on the others. They were on Myst.
She had barely spoken. Barely moved. Her exhaustion wasn't just from battle, it ran deeper than that. The way she sat, the way her breathing wasn't quite even. He had seen the flickers in her eyes back when she connected to XENIS-IS.
The way she had faltered afterward, like she had something that's shaken her.
And now, she was hiding it.
Cipher sighed, rubbing his temples. "Fine. We'll map out an infiltration route, minimize direct contact with their forces. But this is going to take coordination—"
"We don't have time," Myst cut in. Her tone was sharp enough to make everyone pause. "Every second we spend debating here, he's in there alone. If you were the one left behind, would you want us sitting here, calculating every damn step?"
Cipher tensed at her words. "No, but—"
"Then let's move."
A heavy silence stretched between them.
Myst exhaled, pressing the heel of her hand against her temple. The exhaustion was creeping in again, but she forced herself to focus. They couldn't afford to hesitate.
Nyx watched her closely, the way her hands curled slightly, the way her weight was shifting subtly—like standing still was an effort.
"Fine," Razor finally said, the decision landing like a hammer. "We move before sundown. Cipher, finish mapping the site. The rest of us, gear up."
As the others turned away, Nyx stayed still, his eyes lingering on Myst. He saw it. The way her shoulders dropped the moment no one was looking.
The team began to disperse, preparing for what was to come, but as Myst turned to leave, she felt a firm but gentle grip on her wrist.
She didn't pull away. Didn't even look at him at first.
"You're pushing too hard," he murmured.
Her fingers twitched, but she still wouldn't meet his gaze. "Not hard enough."
Nyx exhaled through his nose, stepping closer, his grip sliding from her wrist down to her hand. His warmth spread through her skin, grounding her in a way she didn't want to acknowledge.
"You think running yourself into a wall will make things right?" he asked softly.
Myst swallowed. "I think sitting around and waiting will get us killed."
Nyx let out a quiet hum, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. "You should rest before we leave."
Myst scoffed, finally looking up at him. "And you should mind your own business."
Nyx only tilted his head, studying her with those sharp, knowing eyes. Her words not even earning a flinch from his body. Then he slowly lifted a hand to her face, brushing a stray strand of hair from her cheek.
His touch was light, barely there, but it sent a shiver down her spine.
She froze.
"You're exhausted," he murmured. "Even if you won't say it."
Her breath hitched. For a second, just a second, she let herself lean into the warmth of his touch.
Nyx's gaze flickered down to her lips, his grip on her hand tightening ever so slightly.
A sharp inhale. A fraction of a movement closer.
Then—
Myst pulled away, stepping back like she had been burned.
Nyx didn't stop her. He just exhaled, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Fine," he muttered, his voice laced with something unreadable. "But don't expect me to just stand by if you collapse on the field."
Myst clenched her jaw as Nyx turned around, stopping himself before he could say anything else.
She hated that he saw through her.
Hated that, for a moment, she almost wanted him to.
And as he walked away, her heart was still racing.