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The words cost him because Kesta knew how much of his identity had been built around preventing departure. Nara studied him longer than politeness allowed. “You are Dreven.”

“Yes.”

“K-01.”

His face emptied.

“You know the designation,” Kesta said.

“I know they built the first command cohort around him because other people obeyed him.”

Dreven’s hands curled. Nara continued, “They wanted a male who could carry network commands through social authority. A warlord whose protective instincts could be turned into containment.” Kesta saw the horror land. Every locked gate, every guard, every order given in fear could be his trauma—or a system designed to reward it. Dreven stepped toward the exit. “We leave.”

“No,” Kesta said.

The chamber trembled again, harder. Nara looked up. “This is not the time for relationship repair.” A low tone moved through the ruins. Kesta’s band flared white. Dreven dropped to one knee. The pulse did not end when the sound stopped. It remained inside bodies.

Dreven’s muscles locked around old commands. One nomad tore at an implant scar until blood covered his hand. Another began repeating an imperial serial number in a language he claimed not to know. Kesta dropped beside Dreven but did not touch him.

“Name yourself.”

His jaw worked. “Dreven.”

“Where are you?”

“Outer ruins.”

“Who commands your body?”

The answer cost him. Silver light flashed beneath his scales. “I do.”

“Again.”

“I do.”

His hand struck the floor hard enough to split stone. Kesta held her position.

“May I touch your wrist?”

“Yes.”

She closed both hands around him. Heat surged through her palms, followed by a violent answering throb from the mesh under her own skin. Desire arrived with the pain—artificially bright, humiliating in its precision. Nara saw her expression. “That is the hook. It makes relief feel like the other person.”

Kesta wanted to release Dreven. She also wanted to climb into his lap and use his body to silence the signal. Kesta kept her hands where they were until she could separate want from relief.

“Dreven, look at me.”

His pupils had narrowed to silver slits. “I see you.”

“Do you want me?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want what the pulse wants?”

“No.”

The answer gave them something solid to hold while the pulse tried to blur everything else. Kesta shifted closer only enough to brace his arm. “Tell me one thing the empire did not choose.”