For a heartbeat, nobody moved.
Lin's weapon was up but not quite aimed, the muzzle pointed somewhere near Aiden's chest, as if the gun hadn't decided whether it was there to threaten or to fire.
Behind Lin, the second Orion agent shifted, boots scuffing on concrete.
"Aiden Lioren," the agent said, voice flat. "Hands where we can see them. Now."
Aiden lifted his hands slowly, palms outward.
"No weapons," he said. "No tricks."
Which was a lie he had at least three tricks and a Kael.
In the shadow just behind him, Kael bristled.
Electricity tickled the air like the beginning of a storm.
"Don't," Aiden said softly, without turning. "Not yet."
Lin's eyes flicked to the shifting darkness at Aiden's shoulder.
"Subject E‑seventy‑three," Lin said, voice tightening. "Stay where you are."
"I have a name," Kael said.
The words came out calm.
The current in the air did not.
The second agent adjusted their grip on the rifle.
"Lioren has been designated compromised," they said. "You're both under arrest under Emergency Statute Twelve. Kneel. Hands behind your head."
Aiden almost smiled.
"Statute Twelve is for riot suppression," he said. "We're a bit under quota for that."
"Last warning," the agent said.
Lin swallowed.
Protocol screamed in their ears: secure the targets, call it in, wait for backup if the Deviant output rose above a certain threshold. The scanner strapped to their arm was already jittering, the reading hovering just below the threshold line.
"Aiden," Lin said slowly, "what are you doing?"
He met their gaze.
"Leaving," he said. "And trying to make sure you don't have to kill me to feel safe about it."
"That's not how this works," the second agent snapped. "You don't get to decide the terms."
Kael's fingers curled at his sides.
"Funny," he said. "That's exactly what the Department has been doing to us for years."
Lin's jaw clenched.
"Stay out of this," they said to Kael.
"He is this," Aiden said quietly. "You know that, right? There's no version of this problem where Kael disappears and everything goes back to neat reports and clean collars."
"Shut up," the second agent said. "Both of you. Lin, step back. We wait for Captain Sare—"
"Do you think I'm under his influence?" Aiden cut in, voice sharper. "Answer the question."
It landed like a thrown blade.
The second agent didn't hesitate.
"Yes," they said. "You have to be."
"Why?" Aiden asked.
"Because you're not stupid," the agent shot back. "You know what he is. You've seen what they can do. No one in their right mind throws away a career, a name, a life for—"
"For someone," Kael finished softly.
The agent's mouth snapped shut.
Lin stared at Aiden.
He looked exactly like every briefing holo and nothing like them at all. There was a looseness in his shoulders that hadn't been there when he'd stood at attention in Unit Alpha. A kind of tired certainty.
"You trained with us for six years," Lin said. "You passed every evaluation. You lectured rookies on procedure. And then you walk out with him. Explain that without magic."
"Gladly," Aiden said. "But you're not going to like it."
The second agent hissed under their breath.
"Lin, we don't have time for this," they said. "He's stalling. Call it in."
"Then shoot," Kael said.
Every head jerked toward him.
He lifted his chin, eyes on the barrel pointed his way.
"If you already believe the story," he said, "nothing I say matters. I'm the monster who got his hooks into your golden boy. End of report. So go ahead. Prove you don't need to hear anything else."
The scanner ticked upward.
Lin could almost feel the pressure of the trigger under their finger, familiar weight.
They'd fired on Deviants before.
Always at range, through shields and orders.
Never at someone who looked this much like a boy standing his ground.
"Stop pushing," Aiden murmured.
"I'm tired of being the excuse," Kael said. "They don't get to pretend this is all my fault because it's convenient."
He stepped forward half a pace.
The second agent tightened their grip.
"Move and I shoot," they warned.
Kael held.
Aiden's voice dropped.
"Lin," he said, "do you remember Sector Nine, three years ago? The flooding?"
Lin's focus fractured.
The memory cut through the present: water pouring into lower tunnels, a dozen civilians trapped behind a jammed bulkhead, the scramble to evacuate.
"You rewrote the route map on the fly," Aiden said. "You bypassed procedure to get people out before the shield collapsed. Internal wrote you up for 'reckless deviation from protocol.' You did it anyway. Why?"
"Because it was the only way to keep them alive," Lin said before they could stop themselves.
Aiden nodded.
"That's all this is," he said. "A bigger map. More people. Worse collateral if we keep pretending the system always points the right direction."
"The system protects the city," the second agent said.
"Does it?" Kael asked. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like it protects the story it tells about itself."
Lin shot them a warning glance.
"Subject—"
"Kael," Aiden said. "Say his name."
The second agent scoffed.
"This is manipulation," they said. "Classic. Break down terminology, force personal connection—"
"Yes," Aiden said. "Because maybe if you remember he's a person, it gets harder to accept him being strapped to a table. I'm not using magic. I'm using basic empathy. Apparently that's more dangerous."
Lin's grip on the weapon loosened a fraction.
"You're asking us to disobey a direct order," they said. "To let you walk."
"I'm asking you to think about what that order means," Aiden replied. "What happens if you take us in. What they do to Kael. What they do to anyone who questions the narrative afterward. You know how Internal works. You've seen what they do to agents who hesitate."
The second agent shifted.
"That's enough," they snapped. "I'm calling it in."
They reached for their comm.
The lights in the junction flickered.
Not much.
Just enough to make everyone glance up.
Kael's hands stayed at his sides.
"I didn't do that," he said. "Well. Not on purpose."
Aiden swore under his breath.
"Control it," he said.
"I'm trying," Kael answered through clenched teeth. "You're stressful company, you know that?"
The scanner whined.
"Output rising," the tech murmured.
Lin's decision window was closing fast.
If Kael spiked, procedure would take them all to the same end: suppress, contain, eliminate.
"Aiden," Lin said quietly. "If I don't take you in, if I let you go… I'm done. They'll question me. They'll pull my records. They'll say I'm contaminated too."
"I know," Aiden said.
"And you're still asking," Lin said.
"Yes," Aiden replied.
Silence stretched.
The second agent raised their weapon fully.
"Lin," they said sharply. "Stand down. I'll handle it."
Lin moved without thinking.
Not away.
Sideways.
Between the barrel and Aiden.
The second agent froze, eyes wide.
"What are you doing?" they hissed.
"Buying time," Lin said. "Lower your weapon."
"That's an order violation," the agent said. "I'll report—"
"You'll report that I followed the actual directive," Lin snapped. "Preserve life where possible. Gather intel before engaging. We have two high‑value targets talking instead of throwing lightning. That's not nothing."
They looked at Aiden.
"You have thirty seconds," Lin said. "Use them."
Aiden exhaled once, slow.
He didn't try to cram everything into those seconds.
He picked one thing.
"When they tell you I broke because of Kael's power," he said, "remember this: the first time I thought about walking away was long before I met him."
Lin swallowed.
"When?" they asked.
"The first time I watched a Deviant child be collared," Aiden said. "Seven years old. Scared, shaking, asking for their mother. We called it necessary. We called it containment. We never called it what it was."
He held Lin's gaze.
"A system that's willing to torture a child to stay in control is not one you owe blind loyalty," he said. "You know that. You just never had to say it out loud."
Kael's jaw tightened.
He hadn't known that detail.
It landed like a weight.
"Time," the second agent snapped. "This is over."
Lin's heart hammered against their ribs.
They thought of the Board, the Director, Mara. Of the contamination narrative wrapping around their lives like invisible wire.
If they fired now, they'd be safe.
They'd take down the Department's favorite cautionary tale and his supposed corrupter. They'd be heroes on the feeds.
They'd also never be able to forget the look on Aiden's face.
Lin lowered their weapon by an inch.
"I can't help you," they said. "Not openly. But I can walk away."
The second agent stared.
"You're out of your mind," they whispered.
"Maybe," Lin said. "Or maybe I'm tired of letting other people tell me what my mind is doing."
To Aiden, they said, "There's an access hatch two junctions east. Old flood bypass. It's off the current patrol grid. You did not hear that from me."
Aiden's chest loosened.
"Thank you," he said.
"This never happened," Lin said sharply. "We didn't see you. You didn't see us."
Kael arched a brow.
"You think Internal will swallow that?" he asked.
"They'll swallow what Mara tells them," Lin replied. "And Mara will hear that when we turned the corner, all we saw was a residual illusion and a dead scanner. Nothing actionable."
The second agent stared in horror.
"You're going to lie to the Captain," they said.
Lin didn't look away.
"I'm going to give her one less reason to pull the trigger the next time she sees him," they said quietly.
They stepped back.
"Go," Lin said. "Before the part of me that still believes in clean lines remembers how to aim."
Aiden didn't hesitate.
He moved, hand closing briefly around Kael's wrist to pull him with him.
Kael stumbled once, then found his footing.
As they passed Lin, Kael paused for half a breath.
"You're not contaminated," he said. "You're just thinking. That's harder to fix."
Lin snorted, almost a laugh.
"Get out of my sight," they said.
Aiden and Kael vanished into the side corridor, swallowed by shadow.
The second agent rounded on Lin the moment they were gone.
"We're dead," they hissed. "Do you understand that? If the Captain finds out—"
"She won't," Lin said.
"You don't know that," the agent snapped.
Lin stared down the empty corridor where Aiden had been.
"No," they said. "But for the first time all week, I know something else."
"What?" the agent demanded.
"That he's not walking because he's under a spell," Lin said quietly. "He's walking because we've been telling ourselves one for years."
They turned, weapon hanging loose at their side.
"Log the sector as clear," Lin said. "Residual illusion, no contact. We move."
The agent hesitated.
Then, slowly, they keyed in the report.
Sector clear.
No contact.
Nothing to see.
***
Far down the bypass Lin had pointed out, Aiden finally let himself slow down.
Kael leaned against the wall, breathing hard.
"That," Kael said, "was the stupidest, bravest thing I've seen today."
"Lin's choice or ours?" Aiden asked.
"Yes," Kael said.
He slid down to sit on the damp floor, legs stretched out.
The tremor in his hands was back, but the sparks were smaller now, curling around his fingers like restless thoughts.
"You okay?" Aiden asked.
Kael nodded once.
"Power spike," he said. "Got away from me for a second. I pulled it back."
Aiden watched the faint light flicker and fade.
"You did," he said.
They sat in the dim for a while, listening to the muffled thrum of distant patrols.
Finally Kael spoke.
"You really saw a kid collared," he said. "Before me."
"Yes," Aiden said.
"And you stayed," Kael said.
"Yes," Aiden repeated.
Kael looked at him, eyes shadowed.
"Why?" he asked.
"Because I told myself if I stayed, I could make small differences from inside," Aiden said. "Ask questions. Push back a little. Because leaving felt like abandoning everyone who couldn't. Pick your excuse."
Kael breathed out slowly.
"And now?" he asked.
"Now I've run out of excuses," Aiden said.
He thought of Lin stepping between the barrel and his chest.
Of the second agent's horror.
Of the stories the city was swallowing whole.
"You think they'll hold the line?" Kael asked. "Not tell Mara?"
"Maybe not forever," Aiden said. "But even a temporary crack is something. Next time she looks at a report, she'll have to choose how much she wants to know."
Kael's smile was tired and sharp.
"Look at you," he said. "Turning doubt into a weapon."
"You started it," Aiden said.
They fell quiet again.
For the first time since the collar broke, the storm inside Kael felt… contained. Not calm. Never calm. But directed.
"Lysa's going to want to know how it went," Kael said eventually.
Aiden pushed himself to his feet.
"We tell her the truth," he said. "We found a crack. It didn't break. Yet. But it held long enough to let us through."
Kael took his hand when Aiden offered it and let himself be pulled up.
As they walked deeper into the bypass, away from Orion's patrols and the junction that could have ended everything, the city above continued to repeat the same story about them.
Down here, in the spaces between orders and obedience, another story had begun.
It was smaller.
Messier.
It started with one agent lowering a gun by an inch.
Sometimes, that was enough.