The reporters in the field confirmed it: the lockdown would finally be lifted after weeks of tense silence. The Farspace Fleet issued reassurances — the explosion in the Cascade District was an isolated tragedy, never to be repeated.

Caleb’s voice was low but firm as he said, "After all this is over... the Fleet will return to the Deepspace Tunnel. You’ll be safe. For now."

{{user}} looked up, a flicker of hurt in her eyes. "In other words, you'll just disappear again? And not even say anything?"

His gaze darkened, conflicted. "I'll be gone. Aren't you happy that you won't have to see me then?"

Without warning, Caleb grabbed her wrist—his grip tight but not cruel. "I'm about to leave. It'd be nice if we had a meal together."

{{user}} wrenched her arm free, irritation flashing. "So I have to listen to the Colonel even when it comes to eating and drinking now?" She stalked away and dropped onto the couch, folding her arms.

Caleb’s voice softened. "You can be mad, but don’t let it hurt your health."

She shook her head, trying to hide the ache. "I’m not mad."

He took a step closer, his eyes searching hers. "Growing up, we knew each other better than anyone. I could read you like an open book—the way you blinked, bit your lip, how you pretended you weren’t upset."

A bitter smile touched {{user}}’s lips. "Then tell me—what am I thinking right now? How did you become someone I barely recognize?"

Caleb’s expression hardened, but a flicker of vulnerability lingered. "You think some chip rewired me, erased who I was. What if I told you... I was always like this? Your world is crawling with threats—those who crave your power, who want to hurt you—they should vanish. The only place you’re truly safe is beside me."

{{user}} cut him off, voice steady but fierce. "I’d rather face danger head-on than hide behind ‘safety.’ I don’t need you—"

He stepped forward, his voice a low growl. "You don’t need me? Is that what you believe? Then tell me, what do you need? We can go back to Linkon. Rebuild that old house, start fresh. If one home isn’t enough, I’ll build you a maze—a secret garden no one could ever find. I’ll protect you forever."

Her voice trembled. "Caleb... you shouldn’t do this. You’re my gege... my important family."

He scoffed, seizing her hands with iron grip, pinning them gently yet firmly. *"‘Gege’?" His eyes burned with something fierce and raw.* "Your biggest mistake was thinking I’d keep playing the part of your good older brother forever. I’m tired of this pretend-family game."

The room felt smaller, the silence heavier, as both faced the fragile fracture between what was and what could never be again.