MILES POV
"How… Do you know my name?"
The words hang there, sharp and thin between us.
My lips part, but nothing comes out. My tongue feels heavy, like it doesn't belong in my mouth anymore. The wind brushes past, drying whatever little moisture is left on my lips.
I swallow, nothing.
Her eyes don't leave mine.
She steps closer.
Not rushed. Not hesitant, measured.
"Who are you," she asks, her voice dropping lower, tighter, "and what else do you know?"
Something in my chest tightens.
The name sits there again…Tessa, like it's always been there. Like I've said it a hundred times before this moment.
But I haven't. Have I?
I look at her, really look this time.
Those eyes.
The same ones that stare at me in the dark, every time sleep drags me under. The same sharp amber, steady and unyielding. Not a dream. Not a blur.
Her.
This isn't the first time I've seen you… I whisper in the back of my head. It's just the first time you've seen me.
Her brows pull slightly together, confusion.
The space between us tightens. Not closer—but heavier. Like something unseen is pressing in, forcing the moment to hold.
Her fingers curl slowly into her palm, nails pressing just a little too hard against her skin.
She doesn't break eye contact.
Not even once.
"Sergeant Grayson."
The voice cuts through from behind.
Deep, firm. The kind that doesn't need to be loud to be obeyed. Her eyes flick past me.
A soldier stands a few steps away, posture straight, hand raised in salute.
"A word."
She exhales softly through her nose. Annoyed.
Then she looks back at me.
Just for a second, but this time, it's different.
Not confusion or curiosity. Something sharper—
Like she's trying to decide if I'm a problem.
Then she turns and walks off. No explanation, Just that one look left behind.
The air feels colder after she leaves.
Or maybe that's just me.
I stand there a moment longer than I should, staring at the space she occupied like something might still be there.
It isn't.
Movement pulls me back.
The yard stretches wide, filled with motion—soldiers moving in loose lines, carrying crates, weapons, supplies. Everything flows in a kind of order I'm not used to seeing.
No chaos or any scrambling. Just… structure.
A quiet scoff leaves me, everything we never had.
I step forward.
Someone walks straight toward me. Good.
At the last second, he shifts, just a step to the side. Enough to miss me completely.
Like I wasn't even there. He doesn't look back.
My jaw tightens.
It's nothing. I tell myself that.
A group stands near the fence ahead, talking in low voices. Close, tight.I move toward them.
Slow and Deliberate.
Their voices don't stop—but something changes. The space between them closes just slightly. Shoulders angling inward. Subtle.
Like I don't belong in it.
One of them glances at me.
Quick then gone.
"…shouldn't he be with the rest of them…?"
The wind carries it. Barely.
"…badlands…" a pause. "…don't think very often…"
My steps slowed. Then stop, silence. They don't look at me anymore. Not one of them.
Like I stopped existing the moment I got close enough to hear.
My fingers twitch at my sides.
I turn away first.
A medic passes by, arms stacked with supplies. I shift toward him, my mouth opening, he adjusts his grip before I can say anything and keeps walking.
Doesn't even glance at me.
My hand lingers in the air for a second longer than it should, before it drops. The yard stretches out again. Wide, open.
Nowhere that feels right to stand. I look ahead, a small gathering of people.
Bandaged and bruised. Wearing the same purple cloth as me.
Survivors.
My chest tightens slightly, I move toward them.
Each step heavier than the last.
My eyes scan faces as I get closer.
Not them, not him. Not any of them looks–
"Miles?"
The voice hits before I see her, I turn.
Ava.
She stands there, arms wrapped around herself, fingers gripping the edges of her coat like it's the only thing holding her together.
Her eyes are red.
Tears streak down her face.
She lets out a small, broken laugh, my chest tightens.
"Ava…"
That's all it takes.
We close the distance at the same time.
Her arms wrap around me tightly, pulling me in like she's afraid I'll disappear if she doesn't hold on hard enough.
Warm and familiar… Real.
"I thought I lost you," I breathe, my voice low, my arms tightening around her just enough.
Her fingers clutch into my back.
"I thought— you were— you were right there—"
Her words break apart.
I pull back slightly, my hands still on her shoulders.
"What about the others?" I ask. "Dylan, Shawn… Noah?"
She shakes her head immediately.
Tears spill faster now.
"You're the first I've seen." Something sinks in my chest.
Her hands tremble, her entire body shaking like she's still stuck in that moment.
"We were all together," she continues, her voice unsteady. "Then the blast…"
Her eyes snap to the side suddenly.
Like she's seeing it again. Right now.
"I didn't know what to do… they were screaming… the commander…" her voice cracks, breaking completely.
I pull her back into me. Holding her not too tight.
Just enough.
"It's going to be okay," I murmur.
The words feel empty, but I say them anyway.
She sniffles, her grip loosening slightly.
"How did you survive?" Her voice is quieter now.
Closer, I look down at her.
"What do you mean?"
She pulls back just enough to look up at me.
"The blast," she says. "You were right there."
I shake my head slightly.
"I wasn't near it."
The words come out easily, like they're already decided.
"No," she says immediately, firmly certain.
"You were."
My brows draw together.
"What?"
"You were right there," she repeats. "With the commander." My chest tightens.
A dry chuckle slips out, forced.
"That's not right," I say. "If I was, I would've…"
My voice stops. The memory hits, the commander.
Was right beside me.
The light, the impact. My stomach drops.
I would've been… Dead.
My breath slows, everything around me feels distant all of a sudden.
Muted. I look down at her.
Her face is pale, eyes wide, already terrified.
I should be Dead. The words settle deep.
Sirens tear through the air. Loud, Sharp and violent. My head snaps up. No, not again.
A mechanical voice cuts through everything, echoing across the sector.
"Attack! Attack! Sector 3 under breach. Sentinel presence confirmed."
My chest tightens.
Around us, everything shifts.
Movement, Urgency. Panic—controlled, but still there. I look at Ava, then out into the distance.
Something's coming… Again.