Chapter 3

"Commander Selena."

The name hit like another explosion.

"She sent you?"

"She ordered me to wake you."

"Why?"

"Because you're late for testing."

I released him.

He rubbed his wrist and glared. "You could've asked."

"You could've started with a door knock."

"You were locked in a restricted medical room."

"Medical?"

"You collapsed during intake."

I looked down at myself. Gray training clothes. No scars. No burn marks. No execution restraints.

My chest still hurt where the fire had eaten through it.

A speaker crackled above the door.

"Pilot Vale," a woman's voice said. "Open the door."

I froze.

Selena.

Not the distant voice from the reactor. Not the cold command from the execution chamber.

Younger. Sharper. Close enough to touch.

The guard reached for his rifle.

I stepped between him and the weapon.

"Don't."

"She'll shoot you herself if you keep delaying."

"She does that often?"

"With problem pilots? Yes."

The speaker clicked again.

"Kane, I can hear you breathing. Open the door."

I stared at the metal panel.

Three years ago, Selena had hated me on sight. She had called me reckless, unstable, and unfit to sit in a combat frame.

She had been right about two of those things.

"Kane," she said, lower now. "If you force me to come in, this gets unpleasant."

"You always say that before making it unpleasant."

The guard blinked at me. "You know her?"

"I know the type."

"She can hear you."

"Good."

The lock disengaged.

I searched the room for anything useful. A metal tray. A cracked monitor. One narrow window reinforced with wire mesh. No weapon. No exit.

The door opened.

Selena entered with a sidearm in one hand and a tablet in the other.

She wore a black command jacket fitted close across her shoulders, sleeves rolled to the forearms. Her dark hair was pulled back tight. A thin scar cut through one eyebrow.

I remembered that scar.

Victor had given it to her two years from now.

I had watched him do it.

Selena's gaze went from the disarmed guard to me.

"Step away from him."

"Tell him to step away from the rifle."

"You don't set terms in my medical wing."

"Then stop bringing guns into it."

Her eyes narrowed. "You woke up violent."

"I woke up surrounded."

"You collapsed during a neural scan."

"What scan?"

She came closer.

I stayed still, but every muscle locked down. She smelled faintly of antiseptic and cold metal. Her boots stopped less than a foot from mine.

"Answer first," she said. "Why did you attack my guard?"

"He put a rifle against my throat."

"And you broke protocol."

"Your protocol starts with a gun."

Her fingers tightened around the tablet. "You were brought in because your neural pattern spiked during the pilot screening. That spike knocked out two technicians. Then you collapsed."

"How long was I out?"

"Nine minutes."

Nine minutes since I died.

My stomach turned.

Selena noticed. Of course she noticed. She missed nothing when she was hunting someone.

"You look like you recognized that number," she said.

"I don't like nine."

"That's not an answer."

"It wasn't meant to be."

She raised the pistol and rested the muzzle against the center of my forehead.

The room got very small.

The guard stopped breathing.

I could feel the heat of her hand around the weapon. Her eyes stayed on mine, steady and hard. She was close enough that the edge of her sleeve brushed my wrist.

"Now you answer," she said. "What happened during the scan?"

"Nothing."

"Your brain disagrees."

"Brains are dramatic."

"So are dead pilots."

My skin prickled.

She didn't know.

She couldn't know.

But her thumb moved along the side of the pistol, slow and deliberate.

"You told the scanner, 'not again,'" she said. "Then you named a reactor chamber that doesn't exist."

I kept my face blank.

"Maybe the scanner misheard me."

"It recorded you."

"Play it back."

"I don't take orders from unstable recruits."

"You put a gun on one. That makes us even."

The muzzle pressed harder.

"You're not a recruit," she said. "Your file says you washed out of flight school. Your physical scores are average. Your sync potential is barely measurable. Yet you entered a restricted scan and triggered a classified alarm."

"Sounds like your security problem."

"It becomes your problem when I put a bullet through your skull."

I leaned one inch closer to the gun.

Her eyes flicked to my mouth, then returned to my eyes so fast most people would've missed it.

I didn't.

"You going to shoot me in front of your guard?" I asked.

"If I need to."

"You won't."

Her jaw tightened. "You seem very confident for a man with a gun against his head."

"You don't want to clean blood off your floor."

"I can order someone else to do it."

"No. You hate waste."

The guard stared between us. "Commander, should I call security?"

"No."

"But—"

"Leave."

He hesitated.

Selena didn't look away from me. "Now."

The guard grabbed his rifle and backed through the door.

It sealed behind him.

Forced proximity. Locked room. Gun at my forehead.

Three years ago, she had never been alone with me for more than thirty seconds.

That had changed after the purge.

My memories tried to drag me forward. Victor's smile. The council chamber. Selena's hand signing my death order.

I pushed it down.

Not now.

"You know what happens next," Selena said.

I looked at her. "Do I?"

"You tell me the truth, and I decide whether you're useful. You lie, and I decide whether you're dangerous."

"And if I'm both?"

"Then I keep you close until I know which part wins."

The words should've sounded like a threat.

They did.

Her free hand caught the front of my shirt and pulled me against the wall. The pistol stayed between us. Her body came close enough that I felt the warmth of her breath near my cheek.

"Don't test me," she whispered.

"You already did."

"When?"

"You put me in a machine you knew would kill me."

Her expression changed.

Just a fraction.

"You've never been in a combat frame."

"Not this year."

Her grip tightened.

"What did you say?"

I smiled without humor. "You heard me."

"You weren't scheduled for combat testing until tomorrow."

"Then schedule it today."

"Why?"

"Because tomorrow, seventeen people die."

The gun stopped moving.

Selena's eyes sharpened. "Who?"

I had stepped too far.

Her thumb brushed the safety.

"Names," she said.

"I don't remember all of them."

"You just claimed you knew."

"I remember enough."

"Enough for what?"

"To keep your people alive."

"My people? You don't even know me."

I looked at the scar through her eyebrow.

"I know you better than you think."

Her breath caught.

There it was again. A tiny break in the armor.

She hated that I saw it.

"You're making a mistake," she said.

"You make a lot of those."

The pistol moved from my forehead to my ribs.

"Careful."

"You want careful? Stop pointing that at me."

"Give me one reason."

"Because if you fire, you lose the only pilot who can synchronize with the Black Frame."