The medical frigate felt like a tomb. Korvax's body was sealed in a stasis pod, ready to be returned to his flock. Leyla and Mira were in recovery bays, sleeping off healing nanites.
Echo sat in a quiet observation lounge, staring at the swirling colors of slip-space. His ribs were knitted, but the inner storm from the Kaleidos energy hadn't settled. It felt like a second heartbeat, wild and new.
The door hissed open. Ryn entered, having shed most of her damaged armor. She wore simple fatigues, her human side looking vulnerable, her cybernetic eye dimmed.
"Couldn't sleep either?" she asked softly.
He shook his head. "Too much noise in here." He tapped his temple, then his chest.
She sat beside him, not too close, but present. "I keep replaying it. Korvax… he was a good leader. He didn't hesitate."
"He died because I wasn't fast enough," Echo said, the guilt cold and sharp.
"That's the burden," Ryn said, her human eye holding his. "I've lost three squads. The guilt never goes away. You just learn to carry it, or it breaks you." She paused. "What you did back there… with the ichor. That wasn't in any training manual. They're going to have more questions."
"I know."
"You need allies. Real ones. Not just your bonded." Her pulse, which he could sense even without focusing, was steady and earnest. "I've seen the way they look at you. Leyla and Mira… they love you. It's in every move they make. But love can be a blind spot. Sometimes you need someone who sees you clearly. As a soldier. As a weapon. As a man."
He looked at her, truly looked. She had fought beside him without hesitation. She understood loss, duty, and the gray morality of their war. And there was an attraction there, not just physical, but intellectual, emotional—a pull between two survivors in the dark.
His blood sense felt her warmth, her steady, resilient rhythm. It was different from Leyla's fierce wildfire or Mira's deep ocean current. Ryn's was like a fortified city—damaged, but unbroken.
She reached out, her hand—part synthetic, part flesh—covering his. "You're not alone, Echo."
He turned his hand, intertwining his fingers with hers. The contact sent a jolt through him, not just from her, but from the unstable Kaleidos energy within him. It reached out, seeking harmony.
Her cybernetic eye flickered, its blue light brightening. "Whoa. What was that?"
"Leftover energy," he breathed. "It's… reacting to you."
"Is it dangerous?"
"I don't know."
She didn't pull away. Instead, she leaned closer. "Then let's find out."
Her lips met his. It was not like kissing Leyla or Mira. It was exploratory, curious, charged with the shared tension of near-death and the electric mystery of his new power. The Kaleidos energy within him swirled, not rejecting her, but… curious. It flowed into the contact, a harmless, shimmering sensation.
She gasped against his mouth. "I can see it… in my data-feed. Colors that don't have names."
The kiss deepened, fueled by adrenaline, grief, and a desperate need for connection. Her hands came up to his face, her touch both cool metal and warm skin.
He pulled her onto his lap, and she went willingly, her body fitting against his. There, in the quiet dimness of the observation lounge, with the stars streaking by outside, they sought solace in each other.
It was not the slow, profound union he shared with Mira, nor the fierce, possessive claiming with Leyla. This was different—a merging of scars, a silent promise between soldiers. He was gentle, knowing her body was part machine, part healed wounds. She was passionate, her human half craving the feeling of being alive.
As they moved together, his bloodline subtly activated, not to control, but to sync. He felt the flow of her biological systems, the hum of her cybernetics. The wild Kaleidos energy in him settled, soothed by her stable, resilient pattern.
[ New Bond Detected: Ryn ]
[ Bond Type: Comrades-in-Arms / Resonant Sync ]
[ Initial Bond Level: 1 ]
[ Bloodline Acknowledgment: Sanguis Imperator recognizes resilient life-pattern. ]
[ Bond Points +5 ]
[ Kaleidos Energy Stabilized. New Trait Unlocked: Reality-Adaptive Blood – Minor resistance to reality-warping effects. ]
Afterward, they lay together on the padded bench, her head on his chest, listening to his now-calm heartbeat.
"This complicates things," she murmured, but there was no regret in her voice.
"Everything about me is complicated," Echo replied, stroking her hair.
"I know. That's why I'm here."