Chapter 17
RESOLVE
The silence still hung like a thick fog.
He took a deep breath. Inhaled the sterile, mechanical air of the Hub. Swallowed the tightness in his throat. His hands, clenched without realizing it, slowly relaxed at his sides.
Then, he looked up—straight into Raj's eyes.
"I understand," he said.
The words weren't loud. But they were steady. Controlled. Firm.
Raj blinked once, then gave a small nod. A flicker of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Respect, perhaps. Not for IAM's strength, but maybe for his honesty. His acceptance. His restraint.
Quietly, Raj slid IAM's package off the counter. The hoodie. The gun. The gear. All of it disappeared behind the desk.
"I'll keep this for you," Raj said, voice softer now. "For when you're ready."
And just like that, something in the room shifted. The cold weight on IAM's chest didn't vanish—but it loosened. Just enough. Like someone had untied the knot choking him.
The noose was still there.
But it wasn't pulling.
Raj turned his attention to Ryan. The smile returned, this time full of his usual energy.
"Alright, Ryan—your turn. Here's your uniform." He slid the sleek black hoodie and trousers across the counter toward him. "As for your weapon, we'll need to try out a few sword options."
He gestured toward a cabinet to the side. Mechanical arms were already moving, assembling a neat lineup of blades on a rack—each slightly different. Some were longer, some with curved hilts, others heavier and broader.
"While I got your measurements," Raj continued, "and I adjusted for how the sword would fit your frame, that's just half the job. The rest is preference."
He leaned over the counter slightly, expression serious for once.
"These little things? They matter. Grip. How the sword sits in your palm. Balance. Weight. Your personal fighting style. Drawing speed. Even how easy it is for you to maintain it."
His eyes narrowed just a little, like he was measuring Ryan all over again.
"Do you actually know how to use a sword though?" he asked, raising an eyebrow with playful suspicion.
The pause lingered in the air—half challenge, half genuine question.
IAM stepped back quietly, folding his arms and watching the exchange. His mind was somewhere distant.
"I started learning when I was ten," Ryan said, rolling his shoulders as if loosening up old joints. "But... due to some circumstances,"—his tone dipped slightly, leaving just enough edge to hint at something darker—"I haven't practiced properly in six years. So yeah, I might be a little rusty. But I should be able to get back into it."
He finished with a confident smile. Not cocky, but self-assured—like someone who'd never truly let go of the blade, even if it had collected dust.
Raj gave a small whistle and nodded. "Hey, that's more than most. You'll get back into rhythm in no time."
Before the conversation could drift, Regina stepped forward, her arms crossed and expression unreadable—until her eyes darkened. Storm clouds rolled in behind her irises, barely concealed.
"Well," she said flatly, voice low, "regardless of what you think you know, both of you will undergo basic training. Combat, endurance, reflex testing. And more importantly—information."
She paused. Something flashed through her mind, a flicker of a memory too bitter to voice.
"You'll learn about the Deadline creatures we've observed over the years... their behavior, patterns, weaknesses—if they have any."
Her jaw tensed, and her gaze seemed to drift past them for a moment, lost in ghosts of the past.
"And you better hope you don't run into one of the terrifying ones."
She kissed her teeth sharply, as if chasing the thought away, then turned her focus toward Ryan. Her voice returned, cool and firm.
"Since you've already formed an avien, your training starts immediately."
Ryan straightened at that, lips twitching into a grin. His eyes gleamed with something sharper than curiosity.
"Will you be my mentor?" he asked, hopeful.
Too hopeful.
Regina didn't even blink.
"No."
The word landed like a blade on steel—sharp, clean, final.
Ryan's smile faltered, just slightly. A spanner thrown straight into the gears turning in his mind.
He blinked. Frowned. "Oh."
"I'm not really qualified to teach and—"
"More like you don't know how to," Raj interrupted with a bark of laughter.
Regina's head snapped toward him, her glare sharp enough to slice steel.
"I could if I wanted to," she said, voice tight, every syllable edged with warning.
Raj, ever the provocateur, raised a thoughtful hand to his chin. "Ehhh… I'm not so sure. Tell me again about that boulder incident… I just can't seem to remember..."
Regina froze.
Absolute horror and disbelief etched across her face.
"No," she breathed, her voice cracking like a branch under pressure. "No no no no—no. We are not bringing that up. Ever. Never. Ever. Never."
"Oh wait!" Raj exclaimed, smacking his palm with his fist in a mock revelation. Just as about to sentence Regina to two sleepless nights of cringing and regretting over her dark past:"It's coming back to me now! Oh yeah. Now I remember—"
"Shut up!!" Regina shrieked, launching forward and grabbing Raj by the collar. She slammed her forehead against his with a thud, locking her glare inches from his face.
"One. More. Word," she growled in a low, venom-laced whisper.
Raj went still, his usual mischief suddenly replaced by survival instinct. "Yes ma'am," he croaked.
"You don't want to be erased off this earth… right?" she hissed.
"No ma'am. Of course not," Raj replied, eyes wide with the fear of someone who had been here before and somehow lived.
"And you will completely forget that ever happened… right?"
"Yes. Absolutely. Wiped clean. Right away, ma'am. Please unhand me."
She released him with a shove, turned on her heel, and stomped toward the exit.
"Come on, Ryan," she barked, not even turning around. "I'm gonna show you where you're going to bleed, sweat, and hope to die."
Her words echoed coldly.
She glanced briefly over her shoulder.
"And IAM… form that avien as soon as possible.Head back to the tent. Immediately. Got it?"
IAM nodded quietly. Ryan, meanwhile, paused just long enough to glance back at Raj, who was still rubbing his forehead, muttering something under his breath about needing hazard pay.
There was a gleam in Ryan's eyes now. Something calculating. Curious. He hadn't seen Regina flustered like that—not once. Raj might be annoying, but he was also... valuable. A vault full of embarrassing memories, secrets, and probably a few breadcrumbs of intel if played right.
Ryan's grin stretched wide, bright as sunlight. His dimples popped, and his green eyes sparkled with a hint of amusement as he turned to follow Regina, his steps light and confident.
IAM followed too—but slower.
Each step felt heavier, more uncertain.
Where Ryan's path seemed straight and sure, IAM's felt… twisted. Unclear. Their roads had started together, but here, without anyone saying it aloud, their paths had begun to diverge.
...
Watching the three figures exit his workshop, Raj leaned back against the black counter, arms crossed loosely over his chest. The cold, metallic hum of the room returned, filling the silence left in their wake. He grinned to himself, the corners of his lips twitching upward as the memory of Regina's flustered face played like a highlight reel in his mind.
"Boulder incident," he whispered to himself, chuckling low and warm, almost fond. She was going to kill him one day—but it was always worth it. The rare chance to see Regina lose that perfect, controlled mask of hers? Priceless. A little chaos now and then never hurt anybody.
But the grin didn't last.
His gaze drifted toward the steel door they'd walked through. Slowly, his brows furrowed. That Ryan guy...
Something about him rubbed Raj the wrong way. Not overtly—on the surface, the kid seemed perfect. Clean-cut, polite, confident, even charming. Too charming, maybe. That bright smile with the dimples, those gleaming green eyes that sparkled with just enough mischief to keep people relaxed but never wary.
But Raj had learned to pay attention to what wasn't said. What wasn't shown.
There was a coldness there. Subtle. Lurking underneath the layers. Like polished marble over rotting wood. It wasn't anything he could prove—just a tension, a flicker in Ryan's gaze when he thought no one was watching. Like something behind those eyes was too still. Too calculating.
Raj rubbed his jaw absently, a soft hum of thought vibrating in his throat. Maybe he was being paranoid. Maybe. But paranoia was just foresight with a little anxiety mixed in. You don't survive long in this line of work without listening to your gut.
Still... it was the other one—IAM—who lingered in his thoughts more strongly.
That kid had walked in looking like he'd been chewed up and spat out by the world. Shoulders heavy, eyes tired, spirit shaken. And when the truth hit him—that he wasn't ready—he'd looked like the air had been punched right out of him.
Raj had seen that look before. More times than he could count. It was the look of someone on the edge of breaking. The look of someone watching the world spin without them, powerless to catch up.
But then...
Just for a second.
A flicker.
It might've been nothing—just the way the light shifted, bouncing off the steel walls. But Raj had always trusted his instincts. And what he saw in that fleeting moment, buried behind the defeat and doubt, wasn't despair.
It was something quieter.
Heavier.
Not the burning fire of envy , or the bright glow of ambition.
No—it was colder than that. Steel-like. Silent. The kind of thing that didn't scream or shout.
Resolve.
It hadn't fully taken shape yet, but it was there. The seed of it. Waiting. Growing. That was the difference between those who sank and those who swam .
And maybe, just maybe... that kid had a shot.
Raj exhaled through his nose, pushed off the counter, and turned back toward the mess of tools and half-assembled gear waiting for him that had suddenly appeared from within the walls behind him . His workshop hummed with soft mechanical whirs and blinking lights. He had a long night ahead of him.
But as he got back to work, he kept thinking about IAM's eyes. About what he saw—or thought he saw—in that briefest of moments.
People always looked for strength in the loud ones. The ones who barked orders and brandished power like a badge.
But Raj knew better.
Real strength?
It moved quietly.
It waited.
And when it appeared, it never needed to announce itself.