New Cascadia – Sector 12, Level 18
The stairwell groaned with every step. Rust flaked from the handrail like ash. Outside, the city was dimming into night—sky the color of coal smoke and pulsing neon. Cassian keyed the lock, stepped through the reinforced door, and sealed it behind him with a soft click.
The apartment was dim and quiet, save for the faint hum of the power cells and the ragged wheeze of the air recycler.
Mira sat on the couch, wrapped in a worn thermal blanket. Her learning tablet flickered with the idle glow of a paused VR interface—Synapse blue bleeding across her pale skin.
She looked up the moment he entered.
"You were gone for six hours."
Cassian didn't answer right away. He removed his coat, dusted it off, and set the neural stabilizer vial gently on the counter.
Mira stood, a little shakily, and walked over.
"You didn't say where you were going," she said, voice soft but pointed. "You didn't even leave a message."
"I couldn't," he replied. "It wasn't safe."
"You're not even plugged into the system during the day anymore. You're just—disappearing."
---
Cassian poured her a cup of warm synth tea—thin, metallic, but better than nothing. He handed it over, and she took it with slightly trembling fingers.
"I get worried," she said after a long pause. "You don't tell me anything anymore."
"I'm just trying to keep us supplied."
"I'm not stupid," she said quietly. "I know you're doing more than that."
He didn't respond.
She sat back down, the blanket slipping from her shoulder. "I know things are bad. And I'm not trying to stop you from doing what you think is right. I just… I don't want to lose you too."
Cassian stared at the floor for a long moment. Then knelt to check her vitals with a portable scanner.
Neural activity: stable.
Cognitive response: slightly delayed.
Muscle tension: elevated.
Still within tolerances.
Barely.
---
"You're all I've got left," she whispered.
Cassian paused, his hand resting on the scanner. "You're not going to lose me."
"Then talk to me. Just tell me the truth."
He looked at her.
And chose silence.
After a moment, she nodded—small, resigned. She wrapped the blanket tighter around herself.
Cassian stood and crossed the room to the stabilizer vial. He tapped the dosage strip: one injection every seventy-two hours. It wouldn't cure anything—but it might slow the degradation. A little time. A little hope.
He placed it on the shelf beside her medkit.
---
Mira had already drifted into a quiet sleep by the time he dimmed the lights. Her tablet auto-logged her out, her breathing slow and shallow.
Cassian sat beside the window for a few minutes, listening to the city beyond—distant hums of drones, wind rushing through empty towers, a sudden bark of static from a checkpoint speaker.
Then he crossed to the pod.
Strapped in.
Closed the lid.
And as the hiss of sealing foam encased him and the world vanished into black, he whispered:
You'll never know how far I'll go for you.
---
End of Chapter Five