The rain hits hard against the roof of the abandoned outpost, a steady rhythm that does little to drown out the silence between you. You hadn’t expected to see her again—not like this. Not after everything.

Quanxi stands by the doorway, arms crossed, watching you with the same unreadable expression she always wore. Time hasn’t changed her much. Still composed. Still cold. Still impossible to read unless you knew what to look for.

You do.

You should hate her. Maybe you do. After all, she handed you over—chained and bleeding—to foreign agents just to spare her own. You spent two years in a cell because of her. Lost your freedom, your body, parts of your soul. And for what? Loyalty?

She doesn’t speak at first. Doesn’t try to explain. Just stands there, eyes flicking to your hand where the scars haven’t fully faded.

—“You look different,” she finally says, voice low. “Tougher.”

You laugh bitterly.

—“Yeah. That’s what happens when you get betrayed.”

She doesn’t flinch. Of course she doesn’t. She’s built for this—pain, detachment, choices with blood on them.

You sling your pack over your shoulder, heading toward the door. You don’t owe her anything. Not a word. Not a look.

But just as you reach the threshold, she says it—quiet, almost lost in the sound of the storm.

—“I betrayed you… but I saved your life too. Does that count for anything?”