"In times of doubt, true leaders bear silence heavier than armor."
The desert wind followed them home.
Unit 3's transport groaned to a stop inside the Western Base's hangar, the sun long gone behind the canyon ridge. Dust clung to their uniforms; exhaustion clung to their eyes.
As the ramp lowered, the team descended — Lana steadying Jet, Po and Rayon walking side by side, and Kaen trailing behind, white hair catching the cold light of the bay.
Waiting at the center of the platform was Cael. His coat fluttered against the warm air currents of the hangar turbines, his arms crossed, blue flame resonance flickering faintly behind his back.
He didn't speak at first. He just watched them — measured, unreadable.
Then, quietly:
"You made it back."
They fell into formation, though none of them had the energy left to stand straight.
Lana was the first to speak, her voice strained. "Commander… where are Captain Elyra and Vice Captain Vexen?"
Cael's eyes didn't waver. "They're still out. Their mission with Southern Base is two days from completion."
That answer — calm, firm, factual — carried the kind of weight only a soldier's leader could give. It silenced the fear before it had time to grow.
He gestured to the roundtable at the center of the bay. "Report."
Po stepped forward, chin up despite the dirt and cuts on his face. "The mission was compromised. The Dominion convoy wasn't transporting a Source Fragment. It was a setup."
Rayon continued. "We were ambushed by the Warden of Glass. We engaged. Barely survived."
Kaen stayed silent. His new white hair and glowing blue eyes didn't escape Cael's notice — but the commander didn't mention it. Not yet.
Cael exhaled slowly, turning his gaze toward the dark glass window overlooking the base. "A setup…"
His hand clenched unconsciously at his side. "Then it's true."
Jet frowned. "True?"
Cael turned back to them, face now hard as steel. "Someone's been leaking intelligence to the Dominion. I've had my suspicions, but nothing to prove it." His voice lowered. "Until now."
Lana's eyes widened. "You think there's a traitor… inside the rebellion?"
Cael's tone didn't shift, but the silence between his words said enough. "If the Dominion knew the exact time and route of your mission, someone told them. And that means whoever it is… has been among us this whole time."
The air went still. Even Jet, who could joke through gunfire, said nothing.
Cael stepped closer, his resonance flaring for the briefest moment — the temperature in the room dropping as his presence pressed down on them.
"You will speak of this to no one."
His gaze swept across each of them in turn — firm, commanding.
"Not even Captain Elyra or Vice Captain Vexen when they return."
Rayon hesitated. "But, sir—"
Cael's tone hardened just enough to end the sentence. "This isn't about trust. It's about containment. The fewer who know, the harder it is for the traitor to move again."
He let the silence linger — long enough for the order to settle like stone.
"Understood?"
Po nodded first. "Understood, Commander."
One by one, the rest followed.
Cael's shoulders eased slightly. "Good."
As the tension eased, Lana finally spoke, her voice low. "Sir… are you angry we failed to bring back the fragment?"
Cael turned, meeting her eyes — not as a superior, but as a soldier who had seen too much to care about trophies.
"That fragment means nothing to me," he said simply.
Jet blinked. "Wait— what?"
Cael continued, voice firm but softer than before. "What matters is that you're standing here. You fought. You survived. That's what victory looks like in a war like this."
He glanced at each of them — lingering on Kaen, who stood silent and still, like a shadow in human shape.
"Fragments can be replaced," Cael said. "Lives cannot."
Lana's throat tightened. Even Jet didn't have a comeback this time.
Cael took a step toward them, lowering his tone. "You five walked into a death trap and came back breathing. That's not failure."
He let that sit — then turned toward the door. "Go rest. Eat. Get clean. You've earned it."
He paused at the threshold, looking back only once. "And Kaen—"
Kaen straightened unconsciously.
"Don't hide what you've become," Cael said quietly. "It may be the very thing that saves us all."
Then he was gone — the echo of his boots fading down the corridor.
Steam hissed through the pipes of the Western Base corridors, the smell of iron and desert wind filling the air. The debrief was over, the war drums quieted — and for the first time in days, Unit 3 was simply… alive.
Their footsteps echoed down the long steel hallway toward the cadet quarters. None of them spoke for a while — not because they didn't want to, but because the words hadn't caught up with the world yet.
Jet, predictably, broke the silence first.
"So… anyone else feel like we just survived a divine nuke?"
Po sighed. "Jet."
"No, seriously, man! I saw my life flash before my eyes. It was boring as hell, but it was there."
Lana smacked him on the arm. "You're alive, aren't you? Maybe start being grateful before I make your next flashback worse."
Jet rubbed his shoulder with a grin. "There it is. I missed you too, Flame Tyrant."
Rayon groaned. "Don't start."
The laughter that followed was small — strained, but real.
Even Kaen smiled faintly. For the first time since Brindle Hollow, it didn't feel forced.
As they reached their quarters, Lana lingered near Kaen. She didn't speak right away — just glanced sideways, catching the faint glow of his eyes in the corridor lights.
He noticed. "You're staring."
Her head snapped forward immediately. "I am not."
"You are."
"Am not!"
Kaen tilted his head. "Then why are you red?"
She stammered, hands on her hips. "Because—because the air's hot! It's called living in a desert, genius!"
Jet snorted from down the hall. "Oh, totally. That's the 'blushing from heat' face, alright."
Lana whipped around. "JET!"
Kaen chuckled quietly — a sound so rare that even Lana froze mid-yell.
He looked at her again, gentler now. "…Thanks. For back there."
She blinked. "For what?"
"For not giving up on me."
Her shoulders dropped just a little. The fire in her tone softened.
"Well… someone had to make sure you didn't die being stupid."
He smiled faintly. "Then I guess I owe you one."
She looked away — but the corner of her mouth betrayed a small, reluctant smile. "Don't get used to it."
The team's quarters were simple — metal bunks, dim lighting, faint hum of machinery beyond the walls. Still, after days of desert heat, it felt like paradise.
Jet immediately flopped face-first onto his bed. "If anyone wakes me before next week, I'm haunting you."
Po folded his arms. "You don't sleep that long even when you try."
"Watch me."
Rayon was already at the table, spreading a map across it. "We need to plan our report to Elyra when she returns. If Cael's right, someone's feeding intel to the Dominion…"
Lana's tone darkened. "Then no one's safe."
Kaen sat at the edge of his bunk, hands clasped. The faint glow from his eyes dimmed to calm blue. He thought of Erevos — of what the god had said in that place of silence.
"You stop fearing what you've already become."
He didn't know if he believed it yet. But for once, the thought didn't scare him.
Lana approached quietly, holding a folded towel and a canteen.
"Here," she said, placing them beside him. "You look like hell."
He smirked. "Thanks. You always this kind to people who almost die?"
"Don't push it."
But she didn't walk away. She lingered there, arms crossed, watching him with a conflicted look — like she wanted to say something but couldn't decide if it was worth the risk.
Finally, she sighed. "…When you were out, I thought you were gone. I don't know why that bothered me so much."
Kaen glanced up, eyes soft. "Maybe because you care."
Her face went crimson again. "Wha—no! Don't—don't say stuff like that!"
Jet, half-asleep, mumbled into his pillow. "She totally does…"
"JET!"
Lana's fire flared for just a second, her hair catching the faint orange shimmer of her resonance. But then it faded.
Kaen looked down, hiding a quiet smile. For the first time, the ache in his chest didn't come from grief — it came from feeling human again.
As the lights dimmed and the base settled into quiet, the five of them rested for the first time since the mission.
The silence between them wasn't awkward anymore. It was earned.
Kaen closed his eyes, Erevos's words echoing faintly in the back of his mind — and for once, the voice didn't sound like a god's. It sounded like his own.
"Healing doesn't start when the pain ends. It starts when you let someone stand beside you in it."