I let the hot water hammer across my shoulders, steam fogging the small stall. For a second, it felt normal—quiet, grounded, human.
Then the HUD blinked alive over the rising fog.
A faint translucent grid slid across my vision, syncing itself with the falling stream.
[Water Velocity: 2.4 m/s]
Impact Temp: 42°C
Shower Est. Completion: 3 min 12 sec
I blinked.
The timer ticked down with military precision.
Just to mess with it, I slowed my movements, letting my hands drift instead of scrub.
The numbers instantly adjusted:
[Updated Completion: 4 min 51 sec]
"Okay… creepy," I muttered, rinsing off.
The system didn't care.
It just kept tracking, analyzing, predicting. Even here. Even with nothing metal, nothing digital, nothing connectable in the stall.
I killed the water, wrapped a towel around my waist, and stepped out.
By the time I pulled on a grey training tee and light fatigue pants, the HUD flickered again—stronger this time, an angled window appearing at the top-right of my vision.
A wireframe outline of the dorm hallway formed, glowing in infrared tones.
Someone was walking toward my door.
A tag appeared:
[Identity: Marcus, Eze]
Age: 29
rank: Flight Captain
Bio-state: Normal
Equipment Status: Unarmed
Distance: 11.4m — Approaching
I froze mid-step.
The system was scanning through walls now.
The silhouette grew larger as he came closer.
Nine meters.
Seven.
Four.
Then—knock knock.
"Yo, Paige," Eze called. "Breakfast time. Mess hall's open."
I pulled the door open, trying to look like my vision wasn't currently a sci-fi movie overlay.
"Yeah—coming," I said. My voice cracked slightly. Smooth.
Eze frowned. "You good?"
"Totally," I lied. "Just… thinking."
He shrugged and started down the hall.
As I followed, the HUD dimmed back into its idle glow. I exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand across my face.
"Jesus…" I muttered under my breath. "Is there anything you won't tag?"
The system didn't answer.
It never did.
But the faint pulsing in my vision told me one thing for sure:
This wasn't stopping anytime soon.
★★★
The Blackbird-9 squadron mess was quiet when we walked in—quiet in that comfortable way, the kind that only came from people who'd nearly died together more times than they could count.
Six seats. Six trays. No one else ever came here.
Enzo was already halfway through a bowl of something vaguely oatmeal-adjacent.
Hana and Jae-Seong were arguing over who snored louder.
Sofia sat alone at the end, posture straight, eyes down, fork moving with surgical precision.
We took our seats.
Eze barely let me grab my spoon before he fired the opening salvo.
"So." He leaned in, mouth full. "How did you do it?"
The table shifted, five sets of eyes landing on me. Sofia didn't look up… but I caught the faintest flick of her gaze in my peripheral.
Enzo smirked, elbows on the table.
"I've been flying for ten years," he said, "and I've never seen anything like that."
I swallowed a mouthful of food that suddenly felt too dry.
"I didn't really know what I did," I said honestly. "To be honest."
Eze barked a laugh.
Hana grinned.
Jae-Seong pointed his chopsticks at me. "He's lying. Frost's secretly an XN-∆ in disguise. Confirmed."
"That would explain his face," Hana added with a smirk.
"Or yours," Jae-Seong shot back.
They kept firing jokes, laughing like it was nothing. I laughed along, but inside, my mind kept replaying those seconds in the sky.
The slow-motion.
The surge.
The jet reacting before I consciously moved.
I truly had no idea what I did.
And it scared me a little.
Across the table, Sofia finally glanced up—quick, sharp, assessing. Then she went right back to eating like I wasn't even there.
The rest of the meal went in stretches of quiet broken by small comments. Nothing dramatic. Just a squadron eating breakfast.
When we finished, the door slid open and a Wingman stepped inside, crisp uniform, back straight.
He saluted sharply.
"Blackbird-9 personnel. Colonel Holt requests Ace Officer Paige in his office immediately."
Hana cocked her head.
"Right."
Eze gave me a slow, squinting look.
"You really sure you don't know him?"
I hesitated.
The HUD in my vision pulsed softly, data scrolling:
[Route To Command Office / Distance: 172m / Status: Non-threat]
"I'll… I'll be right back," I said.
Eze raised a brow.
I pushed up from my seat, smoothing the front of my shirt as the Wingman stepped aside to escort me. Behind me, the squad's eyes followed—Sofia's just a brief flicker before she looked away.
I left the mess hall with the Wingman guiding me down the corridor.
Every step felt heavier.
And the system's glow trailed with me, whispering that this was only the beginning.
★★★
Colonel Holt's office felt colder than the hallway. Cleaner too, like nothing ever dared stay out of place for more than a second.
The Wingman marched me in, saluted, and waited.
Holt barely glanced up from his desk.
"Dismissed."
The Wingman nodded, walked out and shut the door behind him, sealing us inside.
I saluted sharply. "Sir."
Holt's face eased the moment we were alone. The rigid commander softened into the man I grew up with.
"Sit, Lucas."
Not Paige. Not Ace Officer.
Just Lucas.
I sat, hands resting on my knees.
He studied me for a moment, fingers steepled.
"How are you adapting to Blackbird-9?"
"They're… fine," I said. A little too clipped.
He didn't miss it. "Fine?"
A pause. Then, gently—
"You know you don't have to handle everything alone."
I swallowed. My jaw tightened before I even realized it.
"You know you don't have to check on me all the time, right?"
The words came sharper than I intended. Almost accusatory.
Holt's shoulders sank with a slow, tired sigh.
"Lucas… I've been doing exactly that since you were a child."
I didn't look away.
"But I'm no longer a child, Colonel."
That landed like a slap.
He exhaled—a half-huff, half-hurt sound.
"Colonel." His eyes lowered, just for a second. "Hard to believe you stopped calling me 'Dad' the moment you found that log."
The log.
My throat tightened.
I said nothing.
Silence filled the room, thick and familiar.
When he finally spoke again, it was softer.
"I'm always here for you, Lucas. You know that. Even when you don't want me to be."
I stood before the words could hit any deeper.
"Thank you for the jet," I said quietly.
He nodded. No smile. No command.
Just a nod.
I saluted, turned, and stepped out of the office.
The door slid shut behind me and immediately, the system pulsed across my vision immediately:
[Emotional State Analysis: Elevated Stress / Containment Recommended]
[Heart Rate: +14%]
[Stability: Nominal]
I blinked, letting out a slow breath I didn't know I'd been holding.
Of course the system would notice.
Of course it would.
Because even when I tried to walk away from the past… it followed—quiet, glowing, and impossible to ignore.