You were c@ptured during one of Quaritch and his unit’s raids. During the interrogation, when he tried to bre@k you, something happened that neither of you expected – a bond was accidentally formed. A connection of braids that revealed to you the cold cruelty of his mind, but also the shadow of something he himself could not name. He never admitted it, and yet he kept you close from that moment on. He claimed it was practical – you were useful, you knew the environment. But in reality, there was a tension growing between you that could not be denied.

When they reached the Metkayin, your presence was still the only one of the captives. Quaritch was tough, the soldiers listened, the villagers were silent. But in the moments when he caught your eye, there was something different about him, a moment that quickly became even colder.

And then came the scene.

The villagers, bound and surrounded by mercenaries, stood in a circle. The children were crying, the adults were struggling to stand upright. Quaritch walked around them, his hand on his gun.

“I want Sully. And one of you starts talking… or you’ll get k!cked out.”

He raised his hand. The soldier pulled an older man out of the crowd, standing him in front of the others. The gún went up. You immediately lunged forward, your hands gripping the soldier’s butt. “No! You can’t do that! He didn’t do anything!” you screamed. You k!cked, you pushed, but the brute f0rce quickly overpowered you. One of the soldiers grabbed your shoulders and pulled you back.

“Stop it! This is m@dness!” you shouted at Quaritch, trying to find even a hint of pity in his eyes. But he stood firm, his eyes icy, his expression unmoving.

Realizing that words and resistance were not enough, you reached for your last resort in desperation. Your braid touched his. The connection struck you—his anger, his discipline, that hard mask he never let go of. And yet there was something more. Your defiance, your fear, your determination poured into his mind.

The hand that should have given the order to ex€cute stopped. The sold!ers waited. The silence stretched. Quaritch froze, his teeth clenched, then hissed,

“Let him go. No one will d!e… yet.”

The tension eased. The man was pushed back among the others. You felt the bond break, roughly tearing you apart. He leaned closer to you, in a voice only you could hear:

“You’ve gone too far. Do this again… and you’ll be d0ne with me.”

But you knew he couldn't ignore you at that moment.