"The quiet before the storm often carries the loudest memories."
The convoy rumbled across the dunes, a line of armored transports cutting through the dying light. Beyond the reinforced glass, the wastelands stretched endless — wind sweeping golden dust into the fading horizon.
Inside, the hum of the engine filled the silence. Kaen sat near the window, his reflection framed by streaks of red sunset. Vexen sat across from him, legs crossed, eyes closed — the picture of someone who'd learned patience by force.
Jet sprawled across the seat beside Po, tossing a ration bar between his hands like he was bored with gravity itself.
"Man," Jet started, leaning back, "I forgot how much I hate road trips. It's all sand, sand, and more sand. You'd think the Source could've added trees or something."
Po didn't look up from the small map display in his hand. "You're the one who said you loved 'adventure.'"
"Yeah," Jet said, "but I meant fun adventure. Not sweaty, dusty, 'my lips are peeling' adventure."
Vexen cracked one eye open. "You talk too much."
Jet grinned. "You say that like it's new information."
Kaen glanced at the twins — their banter felt so effortless, almost rehearsed. "You two have always been like this?"
Jet leaned forward, pointing a thumb toward Po. "Pretty much. He's been the scary one since day one. You should've seen him as a kid — dude looked like he could wrestle oxen."
Po sighed, shaking his head. "I was taller, not meaner."
Jet smirked. "Tell that to the kids who ran every time you smiled."
Kaen smiled faintly. "And you?"
Jet's grin faltered just a bit. "Me? I was… well, the town screw-up. Every small explosion? Mine. Every missing snack? Mine. Every broken tool? Definitely mine."
Po snorted. "You forgot 'every detention.'"
"Details," Jet said, waving him off.
The laughter that followed was easy — genuine. But it didn't last.
Po's voice dropped lower, quieter. "We didn't have much growing up. Our parents ran a little repair shop in Thalen Ridge. We weren't rich — sometimes not even comfortable — but… they loved us. We were happy."
Jet's smirk faded completely. "Yeah. Until the Dominion showed up."
The air in the transport shifted. Kaen looked at them, his chest tightening.
Vexen opened both eyes, expression unreadable.
Jet stared at the floor. "They came out of nowhere. Said they were doing 'resonance assessments.' Next thing we know, they're scanning everyone. Po and I lit up the scanners like suns."
Po's hand clenched around the display screen. "Gold Grade — Class A. We didn't even know what it meant."
"They took us," Jet continued. "Mom tried to stop them. Dad too." He swallowed hard. "They shot them both. Just like that. No hesitation. Said they were impurities standing in the way of progress."
The silence that followed felt heavy — unbearable.
Po looked up, voice flat but trembling. "We were just kids. They locked us in a lab with others. Some older. Some younger. They ran tests — pushed resonance beyond its limits. Every failure meant another body being carried out."
Kaen's fingers curled into fists. "How long…?"
"Too long," Po murmured.
Jet forced a laugh — the sound sharp and brittle. "Then one day, this psycho wind guy and an ice queen broke in. You know — shattered glass, explosions, righteous fury — real movie stuff."
Vexen exhaled through his nose, smirking faintly. "You're welcome."
Po glanced at him, the corner of his mouth twitching. "You and Elyra saved us."
Vexen shrugged, turning his gaze back to the window. "We did what needed to be done."
Jet leaned back, finally smiling again. "Yeah, well, for a guy who acts like he doesn't care, you've got a pretty good hero complex."
Vexen didn't respond, but there was a faint flicker of amusement in his expression.
Hours later, the convoy slowed. The endless dunes gave way to jagged ridges — stone outcroppings half-buried in sand.
A small outpost stood nestled between cliffs — old Ashes of the Sun insignias half-faded on the metal walls. The desert wind howled through the gaps, carrying the sound of rusted chains clinking.
The transport stopped with a low hiss.
Vexen stood, cloak whipping as the ramp lowered. "We walk from here. Halvyr's just over that ridge."
The others followed, boots crunching against the sand.
Kaen tilted his head toward the wind, scanning the horizon — faint lights flickering in the distance, the city calling like a mirage.
Jet stretched, arms above his head. "Ah, sweet freedom — and more sand."
"Stay focused," Vexen said. "We're contacting Dr. Voss now."
He knelt beside an old comm terminal, brushing sand off its cracked surface before pulling a transmitter from his belt. "She should be close to Halvyr's outer sector. If she's alive, she'll respond."
Static hissed, then —
"—Hello? Hello?! This is Lyra Voss! Who—who am I speaking to?"
Vexen straightened. "Dr. Voss, this is Captain Vexen of the Ashes of the Sun. We're here for extraction. Confirm your coordinates."
The signal crackled. "Thank the Source— I'm near the—"
A shriek pierced the transmission.
Gunfire. Screams. Then—nothing but static.
"Dr. Voss?!" Vexen shouted. "Lyra!"
Silence.
Jet's expression hardened. "That… didn't sound like a good kind of static."
Po looked at Kaen. "What do we do now?"
Kaen's eyes narrowed, the wind tugging at his white hair. "We find her."
Vexen stood slowly, his expression darkening. "And whoever just found her first."
"When the light dies, the only thing left to guide us is what we choose to become."