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He doesn’t answer. Instead, he gestures for me to follow, leading me along the edge of the water toward a section of the basin cut off from the plaza by a broken retaining wall. The walk is silent, just the scrape of his boots and the awkward, slapping sound of my own as I try to match his pace.

At the far side, he stops, back still to me.

“You wanted to see me?” I say, still no fucking answer.

I resist the urge to throw a rock at the perfect stillness of his muscled back. “What is this? Some Authority ritual? Drag the local problem case out at sunrise and see if she cracks?” He turns, and there’s a tremor of humor at the corner of his mouth. “If you were going to crack, you would have done it by now.”

I step closer, barely outside his reach. “So what do you want?”

He leans in, voice low. “I want to know what you’re hiding.”

I feel the spike of adrenaline, the body’s ancient defense against threat or…something else. I meet his stare and hold it. “I’m not hiding anything you don’t already know.”

He shifts his stance. The movement is slight, but enough to block the only way out of the alcove. “That’s not true. You walked into a trap last night and fought like you’ve done it a thousand times.”

I snort. “Maybe I have. Maybe that’s what the Protocols did to me.”

He doesn’t flinch. “I think it’s what you did to yourself.”

A gust of wind cuts between us, stirring the surface of the basin. I watch the ripples, count them, let the seconds go by.

Then I snap.

“You want answers? Try asking real questions.” I step forward, shoulders squared. “Stop acting like you’re running some experiment and talk to me like a goddamn human being.”

He closes the distance in a heartbeat, his body shadowing mine as he pins me against the wall. One arm slams beside my head, palm splayed flat against the metal, caging me in with the weight of his presence. His eyes bore into mine from above, unblinking—analyzing, calculating—but there’s heat in the silence, something feral curled just beneath the surface.

“I am human,” he murmurs, voice lower now—confessional, almost broken. “That’s the problem.”

His free hand lifts slowly, like he’s handling something volatile. For a moment, I think he’ll touch me—trace the line of my jaw—but it hovers instead, just shy of my cheekbone. Close enough that the warmth of his skin grazes mine without making contact.

“I could have you detained,” he says, eyes fixed on my mouth now.

I don’t flinch. “But you won’t.”

He exhales with a hiss, a breath tight with restraint. “No. I won’t.”

The tension between us coils tighter, pulsing with something electric and forbidden. His muscles twitch, as if his body’s at war with itself—trained to restrain, desperate to react.

I let the tension stretch until it becomes almost unbearable. Then, with a swift motion, I break it, seizing his wrist and twisting it—not with enough force to harm, but just enough to make my point clear. “I’m not your experiment,” I declare, and as I speak, I bite down—not into skin, but into the fabric of his sleeve, my teeth sinking just deeply enough to shock him.

He jerks back slightly—but instead of anger, a low, amused huff escapes him. A laugh. Quiet, unexpected, human. The sound startles me more than anything else.

His lips curve, but it’s not a smile—it’s a threat dressed in restraint. “You belong with the ghouls in the wasteland.”

“Don’t play with me,” I hiss.

He recovers, resets the mask, but not all the way. “Noted.”

I step around him, back to the open water, and let the wind cool my face. Behind me, Kang stands silent, recalibrating. The radio at his belt crackles. “Captain Kang, status?”

He keys the mic, eyes never leaving me. “All clear. Meeting concluded.” He hesitates, then adds: “Tell Reyes I’ll debrief in ten.” He closes the distance again, but this time it’s less a threat and more an apology. He reaches up, tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, and lets his fingers linger for just a moment.

“Don’t be so reckless,” he says. “The world’s not going to forgive you for it.”

Then he’s gone, striding back to the plaza, the weight of the Authority settling on his shoulders like a second skin. I stand there, heart pounding, the taste of salt and blood in my mouth. Maven appears from behind the wall, eyes wide.

“You okay?” they ask. I nod, but I don’t believe it.