Eventually, Von stood and followed the hallway slowly, leaning against the wall for support. Every step still ached, yet something drew him forward—guilt, maybe, or the need for answers. One of the young nurses approached and allowed Von to lean on her shoulder. He was taken aback by her kindness, especially coming from such a beautiful woman. Until now, Jusin had been the only person to show him any compassion, so her gesture made him feel happy.
The Resistance base was a city, carved out of rock and steel. Makeshift rooms packed with scavenged tech, soldiers striding with purpose, whispers of upcoming missions.
A door at the end of the hallway was half open.
Warm light flickered inside.
The Nurus assisted Von in... and met fire.
A young man leaned against the far wall, tossing a small flame back and forth among his fingers like a toy. A lone figure emerged through the rising smoke, his presence igniting the surrounding air. Like embers in the wind, his black hair was streaked with glowing red. Beneath his brow were amber eyes that were fire-filled, piercing, and unwavering.
The edges of his ragged trench coat were smoking and singed. His body was embraced by a dark, heat-resistant suit underneath, which was dimly glowing at the seams. The heat he radiated caused the air to ripple around him, making it seem as though the entire world bowed before him.
Like they knew him, like they feared him, flames coiled around his fingers. A faintly glowing emblem of a phoenix, rising from ashes like him, flickered on his back.
Words weren't necessary for him. The fire spoke for itself.
He looked up when Von came in and snarled as the nurse left.
"So," he said, voice flat. "You're the kid."
Von blinked. "Uh. What?"
The guy let the flame die and walked over, extending a hand.
"Ace. First Battalion. Fire user. Marco's second in command."
He added with a wink, "Also part-time babysitter for hotheads like Justin."
Von's heart jumped. "You know Justin?"
Ace's expression softened.
"He's like a little brother. Dumb. Loud. Always touching things he shouldn't. But he's one of us. One of the best."
Von looked down, guilt tightening his chest.
"I got him caught."
Ace didn't say anything for a while.
"You didn't get him caught," Ace said. "He was already at risk. Justin was a spy. Sent to get in Rhane's net and find out where they were keeping the awakened captives."
Von's eyes widened. "He. What?"
Marco's voice came from the doorway.
"And he succeeded."
Von turned as Marco came in—blade wings closed behind him, helmet now off. His face was calm, scarred, and older than Von had expected. But his eyes burned with purpose.
"We've been tracing Rhane's lab for months," Marco continued. "Justin went in deep cover. Got himself enrolled in that school. Traced patterns. Data. Names."
Ace put in, "He was managing. But then. You showed up."
Von flinched.
"Not your fault," Marco said, raising a hand. "He volunteered to cover you. You reminded him that we're not fighting for freedom by itself. We're fighting for people."
"He broke cover," Ace said, "because he cared for you."
Von shook his head, gripping the edge of the table. "I ran. I left him behind."
"Yeah," Ace said quietly, "you did."
Von froze.
Ace stepped closer.
"But now you've got two choices, kid. Sit here and cry about it. Or get strong enough to get him back."
Von looked up, eyes brimming.
Ace lit a fire in his hand again. The flame pulsed—warm, alive, determined.
"Justin believed in you," he said. "Now you've got to make him see he was right."
Von wiped his eyes.
And nodded.