The silence in Gareth's quarters wasn't peaceful. It was a held breath. An uneasy, prickling feeling had settled over them all in the days since the L-03 unit's attack—a shared, unshakable certainty that the quiet was just the outer edge of a gathering storm. They weren't waiting for a ghost in the walls. They were waiting for the sky to fall.
They had gathered in his room not out of strategy, but instinct. A pack feeling the barometric pressure drop.
Sera was the one who finally broke. Not with a theory, but with a truth. She slapped her holopad down with a sharp clack.
"Forget the projections," she said, her voice strained. Her analytical calm was frayed at the edges, showing the raw human underneath. "I keep running models on the attack pattern, the energy decay, the probable next target. But all my outputs are garbage. Because—my own focus—is corrupted. It collapses every time I factor in your risk profile, Gareth. I can't think straight when you're in danger. It's statistically ridiculous. It's… it's love. I'm in love with you. And it's messing up all my math."
The confession, so blunt and frustrated, seemed to crack the tension wide open.
Lyra's steady, guardian-like pose by the viewport softened. The cool, vigilant light around her warmed into a gentle, amber glow. "She's just saying it first," Lyra murmured, her eyes finding Gareth's. "This feeling… I've harbored it right from when I first met you on that bench just didn't know it yet.You're the steady point in the coming storm. My light. I love you."
Eve's form, a silent sentinel by the data-conduit, pulsed with a soft, silver-rose light. A feeling of profound affirmation washed through their bond, gentle but undeniable. "My entire existence lies In you. I don't even think I have to say it. We have always been and will always be, Gareth. I love you."
Nova, who had been a statue of coiled tension, let out a slow breath. "Yeah. What they said." Her usual bravado was gone, replaced by a stark, solemn honesty. "You are virtually the only person who I've seen that is battle crazy as me. Not just to fight. To make sure it doesn't harm the people you care about. I love you, Gareth."
In the corner, Riven, who had been silently fuming with shared anxiety, froze mid-pace. His head swiveled. He stared, jaw slightly slack, his eyes wide as they darted from one confessing woman to the next. All the dread on his face melted into pure, unadulterated shock, followed by a wave of comedic, deeply personal resentment aimed directly at Gareth. He mouthed a silent, exaggerated 'You have GOT to be kidding me,' looking utterly betrayed by his friend's inexplicable luck.
Gareth felt the world lurch. The vague, terrifying dread of "something coming" was suddenly eclipsed by the immediate, breathtaking reality of four incredible women offering him their hearts. He saw Sera's frustrated sincerity, Lyra's tender glow, Eve's resonant pulse, Nova's fierce vow, and Riven's gobsmacked, jealous stare. A hysterical laugh choked in his throat.
"I… I hear you," he managed, his voice scraped raw. "All of you. And it… it changes everything. But that feeling… the one we all have right now? That something is about to break? My head is there. It's screaming. I can't… I can't give this the answer it deserves right now. I need to get through whatever is coming. With all of you."
He waited for the hurt, the withdrawal.
Instead, Sera just nodded, a pragmatic acceptance settling over her features. "Obviously. The emotional timing is atrocious. Consider the data… acknowledged. For future processing."
Lyra's smile was gentle, understanding. "We just needed you to know what you're standing for."
"The sentiment is recorded," Eve chimed softly. "It will keep."
Nova's face hardened. "If you die, I'll kill you ."
Riven finally found his voice, a strangled whisper meant only for Gareth. "I hate you so much right now," he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief before resuming his pacing, now with an air of a man deeply wronged by the universe.
The unease didn't vanish. The dread of the coming storm still pressed down on the room. But the air had changed. It was now charged with a wild, defiant, and comforting new current—a promise of a future worth weathering the storm for, and the solid, grumbling presence of a best friend who was, at least for now, monumentally unimpressed.