NOVEL NEXT Chapter 44
Syn choked, the vanilla milkshake catching in his throat as he coughed, a ragged sputter that drew a flush to his cheeks. The glass clinked against the table as he set it down, his hand fumbling for balance as he wheezed, the cold sweetness turning traitor in his windpipe.
"Hey! Careful—you okay?" Pako's tone flipped to concern, her hand darting out to pat his head with a gentle thump, her other hand shoving a glass of water toward him with a clatter. He grabbed it, gulping it down between coughs, and she grinned, her worry melting back into mischief. "It should be me coughing on your milkshake, not the other way 'round," she quipped, her voice a sultry taunt as she leaned back, her bare foot still brushing his leg, her smirk widening as she watched him sputter anew.
Syn choked again, water splashing against his lips as he coughed harder, his face burning as Pako's chuckle danced through the air—a high, gleeful sound that echoed off the cafeteria's metal walls. He snatched a tissue from the table, wiping his mouth with a shaky hand, his hazel eyes narrowing as he shot her a glare, her relentless teasing a storm he couldn't outrun.
"You know," Pako mused, her tone turning playful as she propped her chin on her hand, "I could be your pocket tissue if you want. I swear I'd lick you clean better than any tissue in this universe." Her tongue flicked across her lips, a deliberate tease, her dark eyes glinting with a promise that sent another flush racing up his neck.
"Enough—stop that," Syn snapped, his voice firm, cutting through her flirtation with a sharpness that brooked no argument. "I'm walking away if you say another word." His hand hovered over the table's edge, ready to push himself up, his patience fraying as he met her gaze, daring her to test him.
Pako's lips parted, then snapped shut, her hand miming a zipper across her mouth with an exaggerated flourish. She leaned back, her posture mockingly obedient as she pulled her phone from her pocket, her fingers tapping the screen with a silent focus. The coded chat with Vera flared to life, her thumbs flying as she typed: "Are you waiting for it to reach the Kingdom?" Vera's reply blinked back—a thumbs-up emoji, stark and final.
Pako's eyes flicked to Syn, then back to her screen, her playful mask tightening into a thin line as she typed again, her fingers trembling faintly. "Do it now—there'll be casualties, innocents, if it hits the Kingdom. Syn'll never forgive us if he finds out. He'd never want civilians hurt." She sent it, her breath catching as she waited, her milkshake forgotten, its condensation pooling on the table.
In the control room, Vera stared at the holographic display, her purple hair framing a face etched with a storm of rage and regret. Pako's message buzzed on her wristband, and she froze, her eyes glazing over as she read it, the words sinking into her like a blade. Pako—reckless, impulsive Pako—was right, a rarity that jolted her from her spiral. Syn's face flashed in her mind—his steady gaze, his quiet strength—and she saw the truth: he'd hate them, forever, if innocents died in their revenge.
"What happened?" Aster's voice cut through, sharp with concern as she stepped closer, her teal eyes narrowing at Vera's dazed stillness, her blonde hair swaying as she tilted her head.
"I'm doing it now," Vera said, her voice a low growl as she yanked the detonator from her pocket, her thumb hovering over the button, rage and resolve warring in her chest. She pressed it, the click a thunderclap in the silence, her breath hitching as the signal surged forth.
Aster's eyes widened, shock flashing across her face as she lunged. "What's gotten into you—are you mad, bitch?" she barked, her hands slamming into Vera's shoulders, shoving her to the ground with a thud that echoed off the bridge's metal walls. The detonator skittered from Vera's grasp, and Aster snatched it up, her fingers jabbing the cancel button with a frantic press, her breath ragged as she glared down at her captain. The bomb's design was a safeguard—its signal had to reach the target uninterrupted to trigger; a break, like Aster's cancel, would kill it mid-flight. She'd stopped it, just in time, her pulse hammering as she loomed over Vera.
"What's the matter with you?" Aster snarled, her voice trembling with anger as she clutched the remote, her knuckles white. "Are you really Vera—or a shapeshifter?" Her eyes blazed, suspicion threading through her fury as she searched Vera's face for a crack in the mask.
Vera lay sprawled, her chest heaving as she met Aster's glare, her own rage cooling into a bitter clarity. "I almost made another blunder," she said, her voice low, raw, as she tapped her wristband, projecting Pako's texts into the air between them. The words glowed—"Syn'll never forgive us… innocents harmed"—a stark warning that hung like a guillotine.
"What's this?" Aster demanded, her frustration spiking as she glanced between Vera and the screen, her grip tightening on the detonator.
"Read," Vera commanded, her voice a steel whip despite her prone position, her purple hair fanning across the floor as she stared up, unyielding.
Aster's gaze flicked to the texts, her eyes scanning the lines, and realization crashed over her like a wave—her breath caught, her lips parting as the weight of their near-mistake settled in. She raised the detonator, her thumb pressing it again—not to cancel, but to confirm the earlier halt, her expression blank but breathless as she sank to her knees beside Vera.
"That really could've turned bad," she whispered, her voice trembling, her wide eyes glinting with a dawning horror. "We weren't this reckless before, were we? We made sure no innocents got hurt—right?" Her lips shivered, a plea for reassurance as she searched Vera's face, her hands shaking faintly.
Vera nodded, a slow, deliberate motion as she sat up, her hands bracing against the cold floor. Syn had drilled it into them—the real enemy was the King, his soldiers, his corrupt web, not the Kingdom's people. They'd seen it all, from the slums to the spires, and knew the innocents caught in the crossfire weren't their foes. A reckless strike now, born of anger, could've spiraled them into the King's image—merciless killers, loathed by Syn, loathing themselves—a chain to hell they'd narrowly dodged.
Aster extended a hand, her fingers steadying as she pulled Vera up, their grips locking with a quiet strength. Vera stood, brushing her hair back, her posture reclaiming its captain's steel, though her eyes still simmered with unease. "Do you think," Aster ventured, her voice soft, tentative, "that day—the day he left—we did something like this to upset him?" Her words hung, a thread of doubt unraveling their past, seeking a reason for Syn's abrupt flight.
Vera shook her head, her lips tightening as she met Aster's gaze. "Not that I know of," she said, her tone firm but hollow. She'd replayed that day a thousand times—rescuing Syn from the Kingdom's soldiers, their triumph, his quiet gratitude—yet he'd vanished soon after, resurfacing as one of those soldiers thanks to Mia's tracking. The pieces didn't fit, a puzzle he refused to solve for them, and the silence gnawed at her.
"Do you think he'll disappear again?" Aster pressed, her voice a whisper now, her teal eyes searching Vera's for an anchor.
"I don't know!" Vera snapped, her shout bursting forth, raw and ragged as she whirled on Aster, her hands clenching into fists. "I don't know anything you don't—stop asking me these damn questions!" Her chest heaved, her purple hair trembling with the force of her outburst, her frustration a wildfire she couldn't douse.
Aster's mouth snapped shut, her eyes widening as she stepped back, the air between them thickening with a heavy silence. Vera's glare softened, her shoulders slumping as she turned away, staring at the holographic display, its blue glow a cold mirror to her turmoil. Aster stood frozen, her hands falling to her sides, the detonator dangling loosely in her grip, its weight a reminder of the brink they'd teetered on.
A sharp *beep* pierced the quiet, jolting them both—the remote in Aster's hand flashing as the signal completed its arc. Their eyes snapped to it, then to the display, where a notification blinked in stark white text against the blue:
*Detonation Successful.*