Marcus stared Sasha down. A fire roared in the stone hearth beside them, flickering wild and untamed, almost a reflection of the woman standing before him. Sasha’s red hair, carefully braided this morning, had begun to escape, curls rebelling against restraint.

  She was furious.

  Marcus had known she would be. He’d been dreading this encounter since returning from Trevor’s outpost. He hated the role reversal, but Siera had initiated this mission. That made Sasha the one in charge.

  “He got away?” Sasha asked, her temper simmering just beneath the surface.

  “Yes,” Marcus said. It wasn’t even a lie. Teorin had gotten away. Marcus just hadn’t really done anything to stop him.

  “And you didn’t get the drive?”

  Marcus kept his expression carefully neutral. “Nope.”

  Trevor’s drive was stashed safely in a hidden compartment in his pack, but no one had been around to see that. A secluded cabin like this didn’t have cameras.

  Sasha’s glare sharpened. “And this had nothing to do with the fact that it was your brother Novem sent to retrieve the drive?”

  Marcus hesitated, just enough to sell the illusion. Looking sentimental was his best defense. It wasn’t great for his reputation, but it was far better than the truth. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise that Jeron had sent Teorin.

  Sasha scoffed. “Idiot. You sentimental idiot.”

  “I didn’t know they’d send him,” Marcus said quietly.

  “It shouldn’t have mattered, Marcus! I know you. I saw your brother out there.” Her eyes burned with frustration. “You’re better. You could have decimated him if that’s what you wanted!”

  Marcus relaxed, just slightly. She believed it.

  He’d been worried Sasha would see through the ruse, that she’d start asking why he’d insisted on being stationed at the outpost alone. But she didn’t. She thought his failure was exactly what he wanted her to think it was: sentimentality.

  Sasha exhaled sharply, fists clenched. The air around her shimmered, waves of heat distorting the edges of her silhouette.

  Marcus held his ground. If she lost control here…

  A sharp crack split the air. The nearest table snapped clean down the middle, steam rising from its scorched edges. Sasha’s breath came heavy, her glare burning into him.

  Marcus held back a flinch, and for just a second, he wondered, was this it? Was this the moment she finally snapped?

  Then, just as quickly as it built, she stepped back, exhaling through her nose like she was physically shoving the rage down.

  Marcus’ blood ran cold. If she had turned that on him…

  The thought nearly made him shudder. But she had stepped back. This time. How many more times could she push herself to the edge before she didn’t?

  And suddenly, Marcus felt relief.

  Relief that Novem had sent Teorin. Even if it had torn him apart inside. Even if he still hadn’t quite recovered from hurting his own brother.

  Something welled up in his chest. Panic.

  Images flooded his mind: the nine-year-old kid he’d left behind, too young to understand why.

  His baby brother. He had hurt his baby brother.

  Who was he?

  It felt like pressure depletion—like his body was folding in on itself, struggling to hold together, but this was worse. Not just the absence of pressure, but the absence of himself.

  What was he doing? Could he even come back from this?

  He shoved it down. No. He had to.

  Just a stun. No other options. It was a relief, remember?

  Because if Novem hadn’t sent Teorin, Marcus might be fighting for his own life right now.

  Focus, Marcus!

  He wasn’t out of the woods yet. Sasha was still a threat. He went on the attack. Keep Sasha on the defensive. Make her think he was ashamed of failing.

  “I seem to recall you didn’t catch him either,” Marcus said casually.

  Sasha fumed.

  “Are you admitting I’m better than you, then? Considering you had a whole team, and it was just me at the outpost?”

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  Across the room, Kathrine shot him a warning glare as she shuffled a deck of cards. She didn’t want to be dragged into this.

  Marcus nearly winced. He’d miscalculated. Kathrine had done him a favor, helping him keep up the ruse. Drawing her ire wasn’t wise.

  Fortunately, Sasha didn’t turn on her. She just narrowed her eyes at Marcus. “We had an entire town to cover,” she snapped. “And believe me, I already laid into my team for letting him escape. You had one outpost. One tiny, insignificant outpost. And you couldn’t even handle that.”

  “I’m sorry.” He wasn’t, but he made it sound real.

  Sasha kept glaring but stepped back, arms crossed. “At least we got something out of this. Kathrine hit your brother with a tracker. It doesn’t give exact locations, but he’s heading north. We think he might be going to Kalin Bay. Novem’s had a lot of movement there lately. Even Jeron’s there now.”

  Tracker. North. Kalin Bay.

  Marcus fought to keep his face neutral, but his hands curled into fists behind his back. He needed a way to counter this, to reroute this disaster before Teorin walked straight into a slaughter.

  “But why send Teorin there?” he asked, keeping his voice even.

  “He has the drive,” Sasha said. “It might augment what they have.”

  Marcus barely stopped himself from reacting. Teorin didn’t have the drive.

  But if Sasha believed he did…

  Bursts. This was turning into a nightmare. He’d warned Isi that it would.

  “I’m coming with you,” Marcus said quietly.

  Sasha laughed. “No. I think this time, for once, you won’t be.”

  Marcus raised an eyebrow. “So, what’s your plan without me?”

  Sasha’s smirk widened. “You think we need one of your intricate plans? We’ll just ambush them.”

  Marcus sighed. “Jeron is a Temporal. I seem to recall that’s why Siera and Matteo were interested in Kalin Bay in the first place. Because of Jeron, correct? If you don’t play this right, you’ll all be picked off one by one. You need a plan.”

  Sasha’s lips pressed into a thin line. “And you can provide that?”

  “Of course,” Marcus said with a cocky grin. “You know I can.”

  She glared, but he could see the flicker of doubt in her eyes. She knew he was right.

  “We’ll bring in Staeron,” Sasha snapped. “He can replace you.”

  Marcus laughed outright. A calculated move, it would drive her crazy. “Staeron? Really? He’s a thug, Sasha. A battering ram, not a tactician. If you don’t want them to know you’re coming, you need me, and you know it.”

  Sasha’s eyes were practically shooting daggers at this point.

  He needed a peace offering. Something to push her over the edge. “Look, I won’t even ask for payment, alright? You can have my cut.”

  Surprise flickered across her face before narrowing into suspicion. Even Kathrine glanced up from her solitaire game, intrigued.

  “So, what do you get out of this then?” Sasha asked.

  “The guarantee that you won’t hurt my brother.”

  It was the perfect excuse. It cemented the idea that he’d lost to Teorin out of sentimentality, not that he’d let him go on purpose. But more than that, he needed to keep Sasha away from Teorin.

  Sasha frowned, the gears turning behind her eyes. He knew she didn’t like it, but she liked money more. Kathrine, apparently satisfied that Marcus had things under control, went back to her game, looking bored.

  Sasha exhaled sharply. “Fine. But I’m not letting your ridiculous weakness for your brother stop me from getting my money.”

  “There are plenty of ways to do this without him getting hurt. It won’t be a problem.”

  Sasha grimaced but nodded. Then, she gave him a condescending look. “You used to be fun, you know?”

  Marcus didn’t miss a beat. “Considering your definition of fun, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  For a moment, the world seemed frozen. It had been a low blow, but he didn’t regret it. A thin wisp of smoke curled up from the floor near Sasha’s bare feet. Her jaw clenched. Then, with a venomous glare, she spun on her heel.

  “Whatever,” she spat. “We leave in fifteen minutes.”

  The door slammed shut behind Sasha.

  Kathrine finally spoke. “I haven’t seen her that angry in a while.”

  Marcus sighed. “How fortunate for you.”

  It wasn’t the first time one of their conversations had ended with Sasha’s footprints branded into the floor. With her temper, and her habit of going barefoot, it was lucky they mostly stayed in rural cabins where no one cared about the state of the floorboards.

  Kathrine shuffled her deck of cards. “Hmm. I guess ex-lovers always know the sharpest words to use.”

  Marcus froze. His head snapped toward her. “How did you know about that?” His voice was sharp. Too sharp. He never mentioned it. And as far as he knew, Sasha had the same policy.

  Had she changed her mind?

  Kathrine chuckled. “And here I thought it was hard to get under your skin.” She fanned out the cards, examining them like the conversation wasn’t life-threatening. “It was just a guess, but the way you two go on, I was pretty confident. How long ago was it?”

  Marcus shuddered. It felt like a lifetime ago. Like someone else’s past.

  “A long time,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “There was a point where I just wanted to watch the world burn. That fit in well with Sasha’s worldview.”

  Kathrine smirked. “It would.”

  Marcus thought the conversation was over. He turned toward his room, but—

  “Does Isi know?”

  Marcus stiffened.

  Kathrine didn’t press. She just chuckled softly. “I won’t mention it to her, then.”

  Marcus let out a slow breath, giving her a stiff nod of thanks.

  Kathrine only smirked back.

  Marcus shoved his door open and locked it behind him.

  Alone. Finally.

  He threw himself onto the bed, exhaustion settling deep into his bones. He hadn’t been sleeping well lately. That wasn’t going to change anytime soon.

  Kathrine’s question lingered.

  Isi did know. Sort of. Not the full extent. He hadn’t cheated on her. They weren’t together. Isi had broken things off, citing his rage at the world. So he’d gone and found someone who would appreciate the rage.

  It had been a mistake. Sasha had driven him to do things he never would have done alone.

  Now, people thought of him as the one who reined Sasha in. They worked together because he could keep her from burning everything down. Employers liked that. Trusted that.

  But back then? Back then, they had pushed each other. Harder. Darker. Crueler.

  They despised each other now. Sometimes. Other times, they were still friends. But she never refused to work with him.

  Why?

  He had his own reasons for staying, but Sasha? She could have ripped the bridle off at any moment. There were plenty of times he’d seen that look in her eyes, the one that said she wanted to burn the world down, just to spite it. He saw glimpses of that side of her, but sometimes—just sometimes—he saw something else. Like today, when he’d thrown her own words back at her about her definition of fun.

  Sasha’s rage scared him. But did it scare her, too? Was she ever horrified with what she had done? What she still did when he wasn’t around to pull her back?

  She had been once. Had come to him begging for help. Maybe it still haunted her.

  Maybe that was why she let him rein her in. Or maybe it was something else entirely. He was too afraid to ask, so he probably would never know.

  “Five minutes,” Kathrine’s voice called from the main room.

  Five minutes. Then another disaster.

  Marcus exhaled. He grabbed his bags and squared his shoulders. Sentimentality. That’s what she’d called it. Maybe it was. Or maybe it was just survival.

  Either way, it was time to weaponize it again.

  No Brother of Mine. With this point, the record shifts beyond the frontier and into the wider context of Aralin affairs. Subsequent entries follow Teorin and Marcus to Kalin Bay— a university city whose civic priorities appear disproportionately weighted toward athletic competition. Readers should also anticipate additional voices in the narrative, among them a commentator whose access to these files was never… formally approved.