Lachlan sat on the ridge with a rifle across his knees and the comm pressed low against his collar. The static ca and went with the wind, catching fragnts of Zubair’s orders below.
"...fuel line stable—copy, Elias, bring the third canister—"
He rolled the volu down until the sound beca nothing more than background noise.
Below him, the Humr sat half-buried behind a mound of burned-out cars, gleaming faintly under the still afternoon.
His Humr.
His hands tightened on the rifle grip.
Zubair was driving it. Elias was being a back seat driver.
And him?
He was up here.
Guard duty.
Babysitting a snowflake who didn’t need watching.
He huffed out a laugh and tipped his head back against the dry rock behind him.
The air slled like burnt oil and rust. He could see heat bending the road near the compound, a thin shimr that made the towers sway. The world felt too still.
"They’ll call it precision," he muttered, watching the faint white flash of Alexei’s rifle through the scope. "Or strategy. Not punishnt, no—never that."
They sent you away because you make too much noise.
The voice slipped through him like static under skin—no echo, no distortion. Just there.
Too bright. Too loud. Too alive.
Lachlan exhaled through his nose. "You’re not wrong."
They never think you’re wrong, mate. They just hope you’ll shut up long enough to disappear.
He grinned at the nothing beside him, teeth showing. "If I could disappear, I would."
You don’t an that. You like being seen. Especially by her.
His grin faded.
Down below, Sera leaned out of the Humr’s rear window. Her hair moved in the wind—unbothered, calm. She looked toward the compound, not the ridge. Not at him.
She should be watching you. She should be watching us.
He ran a thumb along the edge of the rifle barrel, grounding himself in the heat of it. "She’s got better things to look at."
No. She has us. But she forgets that sotis when the others are louder.
He closed his eyes, jaw working. "She’s got Alexei in her ear. Zubair on her flank. Elias telling her what’s safe and what’s not. What do I have?"
You have the truth.
Lachlan snorted, eyes opening again. "Truth doesn’t help when the ice man’s painting the yard red."
Then show her sothing she can’t ignore.
The words landed deep, like a hand pressed flat against his chest. He could feel the creature there—its pulse beneath his own, its hunger wrapped tight around his ribs. It didn’t feel evil. It felt right.
A burst of laughter crackled through the comm. Elias’s voice, faint but clear: "Pressure holding. Detonator one ard."
Zubair’s reply followed, calm as ever. "Copy. Keep the circuit clean."
"Copy that."
Lachlan leaned back against the rock and rolled his eyes at the sky. "Oh, sure, keep the circuit clean. Wouldn’t want near it—lightning boy might fry the wires."
They don’t trust you near her either.
"That’s not new."
No, but it’s more obvious now.
He stayed still for a long minute, listening to the layered hum of the compound.
Distant engines. n shouting. tal grinding. It was all motion—everyone doing sothing while he sat still.
He looked down at his gloved hands. The fingertips buzzed faintly, tiny arcs jumping between fabric threads. He flexed them once, and the light died.
"She doesn’t need to save her," he said quietly.
She doesn’t need anyone to save her. But she still chooses. She chose you first. Rember?
His throat tightened. "Yeah."
She looked at you like you were sothing worth seeing. Worth wanting.
"Don’t."
Why not? They’ll never love her right. They love her like she’s a cause. You love her like she’s the only thing that makes life worth living.
He dragged a hand down his face and tried to breathe past the heat building under his skin. The air around him shifted. The sand under his boots began to vibrate, a low, steady hum.
"Lachlan?" Elias’s voice crackled through the comm. "Status?"
He pressed the button with a shaky laugh. "Still breathing, mate. Still pretty. How’s your end?"
"Clean. Almost done."
"Good on you."
He released the button, and the smile dropped from his face.
They’ll take the credit when it works.
"Yeah."
And if it fails, you’ll be the punchline again.
"Always am."
He looked through the scope again.
The Saints were regrouping near the outer pit, dragging bodies away from the wreckage Alexei had left behind. He could see Marrow’s shadow moving between them—still alive, still barking orders.
Zubair’s voice ca through the line again. "Hook set. Moving east to position two."
Lachlan answered, tone light. "Roger that. Watching your tail."
He doesn’t even hear how it sounds.
"What?"
He said move. You said follow. But you shouldn’t follow anyone.
He laughed softly. "Guess I do now."
You shouldn’t. She wouldn’t want that. She likes it when we are strong. She needs us to be strong.
The hum in his blood grew stronger. Lightning danced faintly across the rifle barrel—thin, colorless veins of static. He tightened his grip until the light faded.
Down below, the Humr rolled forward, slow and steady. Sera’s face flashed in the side mirror for half a second. He caught her eyes by accident—just long enough for his pulse to stutter.
The creature purred, low and triumphant.
See? She’s looking at us now.
He stared through the scope until the Humr disappeared into the smoke.
"Yeah," he whispered. "Now."
The wind picked up. Dust skittered across the rocks. His fingertips sparked again, unbidden. The tal beside him humd and crackled.
He exhaled through his teeth. "Guess I should check the fuse, huh?"
He set the rifle aside and slid down the ridge toward the fake leak site.
The ground was hot enough to sting through his pants. When he reached the old hose, he crouched low and ran his hand along the tal.
The hum under his skin t the hum inside the pipe.
They rged.
For a heartbeat, everything went still.
Then the air snapped.
Blue-white light raced along the hose, arcing over the joints and fittings, burning away dust and oil. It faded fast, gone before the human eye could register more than a flicker.
He froze, jaw clenched, watching the faint smoke curl off the tal.
She’d be proud.
"She’d be pissed."
Sa thing.
He snorted, shaking his head. "You’re insane."
And you’re in love. That makes us both a little bit crazy.
He looked up at the horizon again, at the faint plu of smoke rising from the compound. "That’s the sa thing."
The comm crackled once more. Zubair’s voice. "All teams set. Awaiting signal."
Lachlan keyed his mic, voice easy. "Copy that. Your watchdog’s still wagging his tail."
He released the button, leaned back against the scorched pipe, and smiled at nothing.
The smile didn’t reach his eyes.
Soon, she’ll see.
"Yeah," he whispered. "Soon."
The static under his skin purred approval. The air around him buzzed faintly, invisible arcs chasing through the dust.
Sowhere below, the first horn blew again—three long, one short.
Lachlan lifted his rifle, gaze steady on the smoke.
He didn’t blink when the world twitched with light.
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