Jack woke to the soft hum of Astra's ventilation system and the faint scent of disinfectant. For a moment, he didn't remember where he was. The dreams blurred with reality, merging into a haze of cold metal rooms, Mercer's voice, and flickers of silver in the dark.
He sat up slowly, ribs aching, head pounding.
Then he turned to the corner of the room —
And saw Maya.
Asleep.
In the chair.
Knife still in her hand.
Head tilted slightly forward.
Hair messily falling over her face.
Boots still on the floor, laces undone.
She looked like she had fought the entire night — and lost only to exhaustion.
Jack stared at her.
It felt like something squeezed his chest from the inside.
She had stayed.
She had actually stayed.
He whispered, "Maya…?"
But she didn't wake.
Her breathing was slow, steady, her posture tense even in rest.
As if she expected Mantis to step through the walls at any second.
He swung his legs off the bed — and nearly collapsed when pain shot up his ribs.
The sound must've been loud enough, because Maya's eyes snapped open instantly — sharp as knives, alert and deadly. She was standing with the blade raised before Jack could blink.
"M-Maya—!" Jack gasped.
She lowered the knife by an inch.
Her eyes softened when she saw him.
"Jack," she breathed out, as if she'd forgotten how to exhale until she saw he was awake. "You're okay. Good."
She moved to him quickly, helping him sit back onto the mattress so he wouldn't fall.
"Careful," she said, her voice lower than usual. "Your ribs aren't healed yet."
Jack winced as he leaned back. "Yeah. They're… reminding me."
She gave him a look — half stern, half relieved.
"You scared me."
Jack blinked. "Last night?"
"No."
Maya sat on the bed beside him.
"You scare me all the time."
He stared at her.
She squared her shoulders and looked away, clearly regretting saying that out loud.
"Maya… you didn't have to stay with me."
"Yes," she said quietly. "I did."
"Why?"
She turned back to him.
Her voice was steady — painfully honest.
"Because you were shaking. And calling out."
Pause.
"And you looked like you were drowning."
Jack swallowed.
He remembered.
The images.
The voice.
The pressure inside his mind.
"You weren't supposed to see that," he whispered.
Maya shook her head.
"You don't get to hide from me."
Jack almost smiled.
Almost.
But then a sharp pulse hit his skull.
He winced, grabbing his temple.
Maya's hand shot forward, catching his wrist. "Jack? What is it?"
He tried to speak — but the pain twisted inside him, sharp and electric.
"Something's… happening."
He squeezed his eyes shut.
"It feels like—like my brain is too small."
Maya's expression darkened with concern.
"Jack, look at me. Jack."
He opened his eyes —
And Maya inhaled sharply.
Because for a split second, Jack's irises shimmered silver again.
Not bright.
Not glowing.
But enough.
Enough to prove Mercer wasn't lying.
Enough to prove something was changing.
"Maya," Jack whispered, terrified, "make it stop."
She reached out impulsively — grabbing both sides of his face — forcing him to look at her.
"Listen to me," she said, voice low and fierce. "This is not stronger than you. You hear me?"
Jack's breath came in shallow bursts.
"I—can't—control—"
"Yes, you can," she insisted. "Because you're not a weapon. You're not Alpha."
"But I—"
"You're Jack."
Her forehead pressed against his for just a moment — grounding him, anchoring him.
And slowly…
the silver faded.
Jack sucked in air like he'd been underwater.
Maya pulled back, breathless but steady.
"You're okay," she whispered.
Jack forced a shaky smile. "You keep saying that like it's true."
"It will be," she said firmly.
He stared at her.
Not understanding how someone could sound so certain about him when he felt like his own body was turning into a stranger.
Rafael Arrives
A loud knock broke the silence.
Rafael walked in — hair damp from a shower, wearing a tactical vest and holding two coffees.
He took one look at the room and blinked.
"Oh wow," he muttered. "Emotional crisis central."
Maya glared. "You're too loud."
Rafael raised an eyebrow. "You slept in a chair with a knife in your hand. Forgive me if I don't worry about how loud I am."
Jack managed a weak smile.
"Maya doesn't sleep," he said.
Maya shot him a look.
Rafael handed Jack a coffee. "Here. Drink this. It's basically caffeine and regret in a cup. You'll fit right in."
Jack almost laughed — then winced at the pain in his ribs.
Rafael leaned against the wall.
"So," he said casually. "Ready to talk about the glowing eyes?"
Jack nearly choked on the coffee.
Maya's head snapped up. "Rafael."
"What? We all saw it." He sipped his drink. "Jack's eyes went full sci-fi mode on the observation deck. Then again just now."
Jack groaned into his hands. "Please stop saying it out loud."
Rafael shrugged. "Look, kid — you're changing. We need to deal with that."
Jack's stomach twisted. "Am I… dangerous?"
Maya answered before Rafael could.
"No."
Rafael crossed his arms. "Potentially."
Maya glared again. "You're not helping."
"I'm being honest," Rafael countered. "We need to understand those flashes. They're not normal."
Jack paled. "I don't want them."
Rafael looked at him with surprising gentleness.
"You don't have to want them. But denying them won't help."
Maya sighed. "We'll monitor him. Closely."
"Yeah," Rafael said, "because Maya never takes her eyes off him."
Maya froze.
Jack blushed.
Rafael smirked. "What? It's true."
Maya stood abruptly. "We need food."
She walked to the door.
Rafael leaned over and whispered to Jack, "Translation: Maya's embarrassed."
Jack chuckled weakly.
Then clutched his ribs again.
Rafael's expression softened. "Hey. You did good yesterday."
"Doesn't feel like it."
Rafael shook his head.
"No. You don't get to do that. You survived your first Helix encounter — full R-class soldiers — and you didn't die. That's impressive."
Jack sighed. "I don't know if it was me."
Rafael looked him dead in the eyes.
"Doesn't matter. You're alive. And we'll figure the rest out."
Jack nodded slowly.
Rafael clapped him on the shoulder — gently — and walked toward the door.
"Come on. Let's get you some actual food. Before Maya gets back and forces you to eat protein bars."
Jack stood carefully, clutching his ribs.
But something felt… wrong.
He paused.
"Rafael?"
"Yeah?"
Jack lifted his hand.
It trembled violently — uncontrollably — like a current was running through his nerves.
He whispered:
"I don't think I'm done changing."
Rafael stared at his hand.
His face lost its humor.
"Damn," he muttered. "This is accelerating."
Jack swallowed.
"Should I tell Maya?"
Rafael exhaled.
"No," he said quietly. "Not yet."
"Why?"
"Because she'll panic," Rafael said. "And if she panics, she'll lock you in a room and deny it's happening. We need to understand this first."
Jack nodded shakily.
Rafael placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Come on, kid. One step at a time."
Jack followed him out.
But as they walked down the corridor…
Jack felt it again.
Pressure.
Heat.
Instinct.
Something under his skin.
Something inside his blood.
Something that belonged to Mercer.
And for the first time, Jack realized —
He was running out of time.