Sophia slowed her pace as the long corridor of the Tech Block stretched ahead of her, its white-silver panels reflecting her silhouette back at her in fragments. The hum of distant reactors and data streams filled the space like a restrained heartbeat.
I should tell him, she thought again, the thought looping with irritating persistence. About the mission. About Sector 2. About… me going for three days.
She knew the system would already have flagged her assignment to him—Dr F designed half the architecture that governed mission allocation—but still, the human part of her insisted that silence would feel like distance, and distance was already growing into something sharp.
She spotted him ahead.
Dr F was walking fast, coat pristine as always, hands behind his back, his presence bending the flow of people around him without effort. A senior scientist—older model android by the look of the joints, face etched with experience rather than age—was walking beside him, voice tense, datapad flickering rapidly as he spoke.
"…the calibration margins are too narrow, Doctor. If we proceed without—"
Dr F didn't even slow.
"Your margins are narrow because your assumptions are outdated," he replied calmly, voice cutting clean through the corridor noise. "You are designing for yesterday's constraints, not tomorrow's threats."
Sophia instinctively raised her hand.
"Dr F—"
Her voice was swallowed by the corridor.
She tried again, louder this time. "Dr F!"
Nothing.
He didn't turn. Didn't pause. Didn't even flick his gaze in her direction.
For the first time since she had known him, he didn't acknowledge her existence at all.
Her steps faltered.
Did he hear me?
Of course he did. He hears everything.
The senior scientist continued arguing, more cautiously now. "Still, Doctor, the ethics committee—"
"Has no jurisdiction here," Dr F replied without missing a step. "And you already know the answer you're going to give me."
There was a moment of silence as they walked.
Then the scientist stopped.
Sophia watched from several meters away as the senior scientist lowered his datapad slightly and inclined his head—an unmistakable sign of concession.
"…Understood," he said. "I'll authorize the changes."
Dr F nodded once, satisfied.
Before Sophia could move, before she could gather herself enough to follow, the corridor ahead of them folded.
The wall shimmered, light bending inward, and the two figures stepped through a seamless opening that closed instantly behind them—leaving nothing but smooth white surface, as if they had never been there at all.
Sophia stood frozen.
Her chest felt… tight.
Did he hate me? the thought surfaced uninvited, sharp and irrational.
Because I didn't come for one night?
Not for dinner. Not to talk. Not to…
She cut the thought off abruptly.
"No," she muttered under her breath, straightening her posture. "That's stupid."
She inhaled, slow and controlled, the way she had been trained.
He's busy. He's always busy. This is not about you.
Still… the sting lingered.
She turned away from the sealed corridor and continued down the hall, her boots echoing softly against the polished floor. The Tech Block was alive now—Mk-2 units moving equipment, Mk-3 analysts reviewing floating schematics, Mk-4 veterans gathering in small clusters before deployment.
As she rounded the next junction, familiar faces came into view.
Saya was leaning against a column, arms crossed, eyes half-focused on a tactical overlay only she could see. Rin was pacing nearby, stretching her shoulders like a predator warming up. Kai stood slightly apart, calm as ever, checking shield harmonics.
Sophia approached, schooling her expression back into neutrality.
"There you are," Saya said, glancing up. "We were just about to head out."
Rin grinned. "Took you long enough, sniper. You get lost in the shiny halls again?"
Sophia exhaled softly, allowing herself a faint smile. "Something like that."
Kai's gaze lingered on her a second longer than necessary. "You okay?"
She nodded, a little too quickly. "Yeah. Just… thinking."
Saya studied her for a moment, sharp eyes missing nothing, but she didn't press. Instead, she straightened and clapped her hands once.
"Alright. Focus up. Sector 2 won't wait for our personal dramas."
Sophia took her place beside them, adjusting the strap of her long-range module, feeling the familiar weight settle against her spine.
As the squad began moving together toward the departure lift, Sophia cast one last glance back down the corridor Dr F had disappeared into.
Nothing had changed.
The wall was still smooth. Silent. Impenetrable.
Maybe it's better this way, she told herself.
Three days. Space. Clarity.
Yet even as the elevator doors slid open and the city awaited them beyond, the unanswered weight of his silence followed her—quiet, heavy, and impossible to ignore.