"Who's there?" she called when no one answered. "Lucy? Mark? What's going on?"
Her hand rested on the back of each of their shirts, tugging lightly like a child.
Mark grunted, "Friend or foe?"
At the same time, he and Lucy reached back to grab Razilia's wrists, ready to pull her away if needed.
The silence was loud.
The soldier said nothing.
He only tilted his head, confused.
As the seconds dragged on, Mark and Lucy shifted closer to Razilia, careful and deliberate, preparing to grab her and run if they had to.
The soldier remained still, almost statue-like, his head tilted at the two of them.
They glanced at each other, then at the window behind them, then back at him.
Slowly, in sync, they crouched just enough to spring away—each bending the arm that would hook under one of Razilia's and haul her out.
The soldier's head tilted the other way.
He seemed to be trying to understand what they were doing.
Then suddenly, a mechanical male voice burst into the silence.
[WAIT! Friend! Friend! Friend! Wait!]
Lucy and Mark froze.
They stared at the soldier, whose posture had not changed at all.
The mechanical voice spoke again, urgently.
[Stupid soldier! Sorry! Sorry! Here to pick up! Pick up Razilia! Soldier is boy! Baby! Not knowing when to speak! Sorry! We friends!]
Both of them just stared.
Mark stepped forward, putting himself directly between Razilia and the soldier. His voice changed—firm, sharp, the kind of tone used on troublemakers who needed to answer immediately.
A tone he had clearly learned from Razilia.
"What's your rank, son?"
The soldier snapped into a crisp salute.
"E.I.T. R2, sir! Reporting to her for mission continuation, sir!"
Lucy blinked. "E…I…T?"
Before the soldier could answer, Razilia did.
"Elite In Training," she said calmly. "The letter before the number marks the squad or batch. The number is his personal designation."
A slight pause.
"He hasn't earned a nickname yet."
Her tone turned dry.
"That's how fresh he is."
Mark sighed heavily.
"Son. Come back at midnight to pick her up."
"No can do, sir."
"Why is that?"
The soldier shifted into a more formal relaxed stance, hands behind his lower back, feet shoulder-width apart.
"Because this planet spins faster than the space outside its gravitational field. Time passes differently here. I am required to accompany her during retrieval so the opening window is not missed."
Mark let out another long sigh.
Lucy glanced at Razilia. "Well… looks like you got yourself an escort, honey. We're fine."
A soft blue glow vanished from Razilia's palms.
She gave a small nod.
Though she couldn't fully see yet, she could still feel the tension in the room—the red and black specks of agitation pulsing off the three in front of her.
Then, in a calm voice, she asked:
"Didn't y'all say you had gifts for me?"
All three turned toward her.
She smiled.
"I'll go stretch my wings for a bit while y'all gather them up. By the time I get back, I should still have time to open some."
Two sighs answered that.
"Be back before sundown," Mark said firmly.
"Copy that."
Razilia stood and extended an arm toward the soldier, her tone suddenly sounding more like an order than a request.
"Take me to the roof without anyone seeing my wings."
The soldier looked at her outstretched hand and visibly paused, trying to think through how exactly to do that.
The AI spoke again through the room speakers.
[Gently grab her hand and carry her while maneuvering upward through the building. Undetected. The roof means the top of the building.]
The soldier straightened.
"Ah."
Then he gently took her hand, pulled her toward him, and lifted her into a careful bridal carry, one arm supporting her beneath her wings.
With a short nod to Lucy and Mark, he bolted through a window that had somehow opened at exactly the right moment.
He ran up the exterior of the building without damaging a single surface.
—The Roof—
When they reached the top, no one else was there.
Razilia relaxed almost immediately, her posture changing as the last bit of tension slid out of her.
"Took ya long enough."
"My apologies, ma'am," he said. "I wasn't sure how to address you with… civvies present. That appears to have caused complications."
He set her down near the center of the roof.
She slipped easily from his arms, stretched, then flexed her wings.
At the seam of the bone, they separated smoothly into two distinct sets.
She let out a long, satisfied sigh.
Now she didn't have to hide them.
He stared.
Then straightened and flexed his own back.
A pair of jet-black feathered wings unfurled behind him.
"Don't worry about me, ma'am," he said, trying to sound confident. "I'm top of my class in that regard."
She smirked.
"We'll see about that, child."
Then she launched into the air.
He had barely a second before she called back:
"Keep up!"
She angled toward the mountain range beyond the city.
He followed quickly.
"Ma'am, where are we headed?"
No answer.
Only wind.
After a few seconds, he realized his mistake.
Again.
He pulled a small object from a hidden compartment in his arm—a diamond-shaped earring.
He checked her position, then accelerated.
Sliding beneath her in the air, he flipped cleanly and extended a closed fist toward her.
Razilia noticed him below and adjusted her altitude just enough to reach him without disrupting their wingbeats.
She took the earring from his hand.
He had held it tightly enough that the draft couldn't steal it.
The moment she put it on, she understood.
"Can you hear me now?"
Her eyes widened slightly.
"Yes!"
The winds howled around them, but his voice came through clearly.
She sounded genuinely impressed.
"Portable communication. Nice."
He flipped back into a normal pursuit position.
"Where are we going?"
"To my cave!" she answered brightly.
Ahead, the mountains rose sharply.
Just beyond a moss-covered curtain of stone was a visible landing ledge.
She touched down easily.
He did not.
He hit one knee, slid several feet, and barely stopped before crashing into the mountain wall.
Razilia looked over at him smugly.
"Used to longer runways?"
Then she parted the mossy curtain and disappeared inside.
He stood, dusted off one knee, and followed—uneasy, uncertain why he already felt like he had somehow messed something up.
—The Cave—
The cavern inside was far larger than it looked from the outside.
Layered.
Structured almost like separate rooms.
High in the far corner was a bed space.
A level below it looked like a lounge.
Below that—
a large steaming hot spring.
He frowned.
The entire place was warm, damp, and strangely comfortable.
He looked around for where she might have gone, but she had vanished.
There was nowhere obvious to hide.
He stepped closer to the hot spring, intending to pass it on his way up toward the bed area.
He never saw the danger in the water.
A hand shot out—
hot enough that it almost melted through his armor—
and yanked him sideways into the spring.
The shock hit instantly.
His armor began to soften and run.
His black wings dripped dark metal-like ooze into the bubbling water.
Battle instinct took over.
He launched upward with force and landed heavily on the stone beside the spring.
Molten metal dripped from his chest, exposing pale skin and torn underlayers beneath.
The sudden weight of his half-melted wings threw him off balance.
He turned toward the water, ready for an enemy.
Instead—
Razilia's head floated just above the steaming surface.
She stared at him.
Completely confused.
His helmet was somehow still intact, which meant the AI was, too.
Its voice shrieked into his ears.
[What have you done to us?! Get out! That water is dangerous!]