Ren saw the ssage sent by Brandon.
Among this group of alphas, there were two that belonged to their own. They shared the sa goal, silently operating in the dark. Both of these individuals received the notification from Brandon.
The ssage was concise, "From now on, follow Avenger’s orders."
Each of them had their own code na. Ren’s code na was Avenger.
The ssage was sent simultaneously. A brief sentence that didn’t stay long on the opticomputer before it was completely deleted on its own. A secret communication thod that was difficult to trace was used.
Clearly, sothing had happened to Brandon in the Tower.
The others received the notification to follow Ren’s lead from now on. However, Ren himself didn’t receive any ssages—Ren knew that this was a way to protect him.
He understood that sothing serious must have happened to Brandon for him to hastily entrust everything to him, and even for the sake of his safety, not send him a single ssage.
Ren’s fingers intertwined, rubbing gently. He gave a slight nod to the individual and said nothing more.
There were too many people around. Unless necessary, they never appeared too familiar with each other.
The individual retreated without drawing any attention to the minor episode that had taken place.
The road conditions in the Polluted Zone weren’t great; the vehicle jolted severely.
The sky looked like lting candles slowly receding. Mushrooms died off along the way, and the air was filled with ash resembling willow fluff, as if a heavy snow was falling.
At that mont, the car reached that place—a colossal wreckage resembling an iron tower ca into view. It was a fusion of man and monster, its face frozen in a furious roar aid at the sky. It was the corpse of Tuck.
This was a ’graveyard,’ where Ren’s forr comrades lay in eternal rest. Ti had passed, but their bodies still preserved their original appearance, standing here.
The vehicle slowly passed the dark skeletons, the mournful sound of wind echoing in the air.
Ren adjusted his attire, wiping away the blood from his face with force, trying to show his deceased comrades that he had pulled himself together.
The wild wind blew the white fluff all around, gently settling on his shoulders and head, like the comrades resting in this place saying their goodbyes.
"Actually, not much has changed," Ren thought, looking at the remains of his comrades amidst the floating fluff. "Back then, one by one my comrades faced mishaps, and it’s still the sa now—even Brandon, who has always been extrely cautious, couldn’t escape this fate."
For a fleeting mont, Ren felt the piercing gaze of cold eyes from the distant pinnacle of the tower. It felt as though they were watching everyone, an eerie feeling that sent a chill through him.
Ren’s eyes shifted downward, and amidst the bustled passengers, he caught a glimpse of Kestrel’s hand. She was seated next to him. Her fingers, slightly curled, barely touched the hem of his dark uniform. Her skin shone pale and luminous, reminiscent of fresh snow under moonlight.
A wave of longing washed over Ren. He wished to grasp that delicate hand, to seek warmth and solace from its touch. But the carriage was filled with alert alphas, so he rely let his eyes dwell on her hand a heartbeat longer before retracting his gaze.
Amidst the chatter and movent of the carriage, Ren sat erect, his back slightly pressed against the carriage’s chilly wall.
Suddenly, a tendril wriggled its way between his back and the wall, prodding his waist.
Ren stiffened instantly, every muscle in his back and legs taut.
The agile tendril nudged him once, then playfully pinched him.
Without thinking, Ren’s eyes darted to Kestrel.
Kestrel remained poised, her dark eyes darting just a bit.
"She’s aware of what the tendril is up to!" Ren thought. At tis, Kestrel seed oblivious to her tendrils’ antics. She had nurous tendrils, each seemingly having its own mind.
He knew that sotis, particularly when Kestrel was lost in deep slumber or engrossed in combat, her tendrils’ actions might not reflect her own will. But now, it was clear. Kestrel was in on it, perhaps even orchestrating the playful pinch.
"Did she really just pinch ... twice?" Ren pondered, sowhat amazed.
With an unreadable expression, Kestrel, her hand obscured from onlookers, communicated to Ren using sign language, "Feeling better?"
They usually conversed directly, mind-to-mind. Thought transmission was instant. They could also vocalize, but curiously, Kestrel chose the unhurried thod of sign language. It was as if ti held no sway, and every ssage deserved its mont.
It took Ren back to how he conversed with his forr teammates.
"Nicole and I used to have such gas. They always cheered up," Kestrel’s pale fingers gracefully conveyed, casting soft shadows as they moved, speaking without words.
That was Kestrel for Ren: astute yet tender, always perceptive of Ren’s dips in mood and quick to uplift him.
"Are you feeling a little better now?" Using sign language, Kestrel communicated these words.
Ren’s eyes, almost hidden by his lashes, focused intently on the hands signaling to him from the darkened area. He reflected on how much had shifted in his life. He wasn’t the sa vulnerable person he was back in the day. He wouldn’t easily give up on himself now, having found the strength to keep going, regardless of the obstacles in his path. The source of this newfound strength was right next to him, their arms brushing against each other.
But Ren kept these thoughts to himself. He simply replied to Kestrel’s query with a warm smile. His smile shone brilliantly, reminiscent of a snowy mountain peak bathed in the golden warmth of sunrise, a sight so srizing you couldn’t help but stare.
The vehicle, buzzing with alphas, made its way out of Polluted Zone, leaving behind a city gradually springing back to life.
It began to pick up speed, zooming down the extensive road.
Inside, one alpha playfully jabbed her buddy with her elbow, silently telling her to look in a particular direction. The friend’s gaze followed the hint, landing on their usually unflappable captain.
Ren, holding his gun close, had his gaze downward, seemingly deep in peaceful sleep, a soft smile gracing his face.
On the frontlines, Ren acted almost robotic. Few had ever witnessed him genuinely resting. Always on high alert, even the slightest disturbance would have his razor-sharp eyes snapping open.
Seeing him snooze so soundly amidst the hubbub was unexpected. His calm appearance and smile lent credence to a rumor among the team, suggesting, "Captain Sloan has fallen in love."
Ren dozed in the gently rocking carriage. War had drained him, and he knew he’d soon confront even graver challenges at Imperial Nexus. At this mont, all he yearned for was so undisturbed rest.
In this vast world, there was just one individual beside whom he could find such tranquil sleep, and she sat right next to him.
Kestrel glanced at the resting Ren. Unlike their earlier shared monts, he didn’t lean his head on her.
This ti, tightly gripping his weapon, he was slightly hunched, leaning in her direction. His skin looked pallid, with a trace of blood at the corner of his mouth. His collar was slackened, unveiling a dark bruise that spanned from his shoulder to his collarbone.
She recognized the depths of his fatigue and the burdens he bore. Yet, snuggled up against the carriage wall and beside her, he still managed to flash that smile her way.
He always gifted her that smile, and when he did, he appeared utterly radiant.
While asleep, Ren’s fingers would occasionally twitch, as if reaching out for sothing. Given a bit more privacy, Kestrel would have offered one of her tendrils for him to grasp during his rest.
A fleeting mory nudged at Kestrel’s mind. It was a dim, moist setting where Ren, with sweat-drenched skin, clutched a sticky tendril. A dark fishtail swished through the air.
"Why do these odd, unreal mories keep popping up in my mind?" Kestrel pondered.
"Did any of you ss around with Little Fish while I was out of it?" she jokingly questioned her tendrils.
"No way, never!" her tendrils responded in chorus, wiggling in protest.
"It all happened right in front of you."
"Don’t pin this on us; maybe you did sothing when we were napping."
"Yeah, that’s more like it."
"Like teasing his chin, giving his waist a little pinch, or other playful acts."
"Exactly!"
"Quiet down. Strangely enough, I also feel like I’ve ’tasted’ him once."
"Wha--?"
"Wait, what?"
"Huh??!!!"
"I ant just a peck on the lips, alright?"
"Whenever he talks, I’m struck with this odd feeling, almost sure I’ve kissed him once, and I wonder how it felt."
"Why can’t I recall it?"
"It’s peculiar. Given the nurous brains we share, surely soone should rember?"
The journey rolled on, and in ti they arrived at the Imperial Nexus. Ren, stepping out first, extended a hand to Kestrel still inside the carriage.
Despite being more robust now, Kestrel montarily let her guard down. She slid her hand into Ren’s gloved one.
As Ren clasped her hand, assisting her out of the vehicle, Kestrel sensed a brief, almost undetectable squeeze, his fingers lingering for just a tad longer than necessary before releasing her.
Their paths diverged then. Ren veered towards the imposing tower, while Kestrel and her friends headed towards her residence.
After a brief walk, Ren couldn’t resist a backward glance. At the road’s end, he spotted Kestrel amidst a group of energetic alphas.
"After such a long trip, anyone up for afternoon tea at Kestrel’s place?"
"Should we call Rakan over? I’ve stumbled upon so new thoughts and would love his input."
"I wonder what yummy treats Locky will whip up. She always spoils us with tasty dishes. I’m quite fond of her."
"I’m thinking of asking Kestrel’s gardener for so roses. He’s got the most vibrant flowers in her garden."
The group chatted and laughed together, making their way to the cozy villa surrounded by vibrant spring flowers.
From a distance, Ren observed the lively bunch until they rounded a street corner and vanished from view. After a mont, he pivoted, his face taking on a frosty deanor, and began his solitary visit to the Tower.
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