The next morning, Kiana found herself once again in the now-familiar war room — the one with the heavy air that seemed to cling to the skin, where the long table in the center always looked like it carried the weight of the whole continent.
She had only been here once before, but already, she recognized the subtle shifts in atmosphere. And today… it was bad. Worse than last time.
Chris, Kallen, and Otto sat in their usual places, though none of them spoke at first. Their expressions were grim, carved from stone, and even Kallen's smile — the smile that seemed to always find its way to her face — was absent.
Kiana, uncomfortable with the silence, tried to brighten the mood. "Wow, you guys look like you just lost a card game to a toddler," she said with a half-grin.
It earned her no laughs.
Chris didn't even look up. His voice cut through the air like frost.
"It seems there are whispers of a rebellion."
The words froze Kiana in place.
Chris's hand rested on his shoulder, his grip tightening until his fingers dug deep enough to draw blood — though the red droplets vanished just as quickly, skin knitting back together like nothing had happened.
Kiana swallowed, suddenly wishing she hadn't said anything.
Otto leaned back slightly, his expression unreadable. "Rumors. Nothing more. You'd waste effort chasing shadows, Christopher."
Chris's golden eyes narrowed. "And you'd risk the order we've built over hearsay? If even a spark of this is true, it could burn the entire system. This city, this stability—it's fragile. It won't survive if we ignore it."
"It won't survive if we start turning on our own over whispers," Otto countered, his tone sharp but measured.
The two men stared each other down, the air between them thickening until it was almost suffocating.
Kiana shifted uncomfortably, glancing toward Kallen for some sort of easing word — but Kallen's gaze was fixed on the table, her brows knit in thought.
Finally, she stood. The sound of her chair scraping against the floor made both men break their glare.
"We shouldn't fight," she said firmly. "Not over this."
Chris and Otto both looked ready to argue again, but Kallen took a slow, steady breath before speaking again. "I'll go. I'll meet with the leader of these supposed rebels and talk to them directly."
The response was immediate.
"No," Chris said flatly.
"Absolutely not," Otto added at the same time.
Even Kiana, startled, started to speak up with a protest — but Kallen's eyes were steady, her jaw set.
"I'm not asking for permission," she said, her voice carrying the rare tone of someone who would not be moved. "With Chris's order, Otto's strings, and the fact that I can take care of myself, I'll be safe."
"You're risking far more than your safety," Otto said sharply.
"Which is exactly why I should go," Kallen shot back. "If this rebellion is born from resentment, sending soldiers will only make them dig their heels in. But if I go, maybe they'll listen. Maybe they'll see we're not as divided as they think."
Chris's fists clenched, his healed shoulder still trembling faintly. "You're playing with fire."
Kallen only offered a faint, wry smile. "Fire's nothing new to me."
The three of them stared at each other in heavy silence — until Kallen turned and made for the door.
"Kallen," Otto called, his voice tight.
She didn't stop walking. "This is what I'm choosing. You can either trust me… or not. But I'm going."
The door closed behind her with a quiet click, and the three left inside were still.
Chris's jaw tightened as he looked at Otto, but the priest only stared back coolly. Both of them then glanced at Kiana, who gave an awkward shrug, feeling as though she'd just stumbled into the middle of an invisible battlefield.
No one spoke. No one wanted to be the first.
The air felt colder than the winter creeping in outside.
Kiana forced a shaky laugh, rubbing the back of her head.
"Haha… wonder which side of the family she got that from…" she mumbled, more to herself than anyone else. "I should, uh… check up on her."
Before either Chris or Otto could say anything, she pushed back her chair and darted toward the door.
"Good talk!" she added quickly, slipping out and pulling the door closed behind her.
Once outside, she pressed her back against the wood and let out a long, exhausted sigh. Her pulse was still racing from the tension inside, like she'd just sat in the middle of a battlefield without armor.
The muffled voices of the two men inside reached her ears. She didn't want to eavesdrop… but the low, sharp tones were impossible to ignore.
"…I suppose she is the best one out of all of us," Chris's voice rumbled.
"This entire mess wouldn't have happened if you'd listened to me!" Otto shot back, his voice sharper than she'd ever heard it.
"I told you no!"
"If this city had more machines, more things for people to do, then none of these problems would happen! We need progress, Christopher — progress in this city of yours that's trapped in the past!"
"What we do is what works! It is for the best. Change one thing, and everything crumbles down!"
"How would you know!?" Otto snapped, his tone almost incredulous.
"Because I've seen everything," Chris roared. "All will fall if we don't keep things as they are!"
There was a pause — the kind that felt like the air itself had frozen. Then Otto's voice came, cold and deliberate:
"…You're just afraid… and weak."
"I am," Chris admitted, voice low, raw. "Because someone stronger than me lost to it. This is the best way I know to survive."
"You really are pathetic, Christopher."
The sound of his name, spat like venom, made Kiana flinch. She heard the scrape of a chair and the thud of boots on the wooden floor, but before she could catch more, she quickly stepped away from the door, deciding she'd heard enough.
She didn't want to hear more.
Her footsteps were light, almost cautious, as she walked down the empty hallway. But no matter how much she tried to focus on something else, her mind kept circling back to that one line.
"…Professor Gorilla is… a Christopher??" she whispered to herself, the words sounding more absurd the more she repeated them.