The arena was quiet that morning—eerily so. The usual thuds of sparring sessions, shouted commands, and bursts of elemental energy hadn’t started up yet. It was just Eve, standing at the edge of the training floor, heart steady but nerves alive beneath her skin.

  Footsteps echoed across the polished floor. Eve turned just in time to see Nyra approaching—her usual sharp gait, a sleek bck utility coat trailing behind her. She carried a reinforced case in one hand, her expression unreadable.

  “Morning,” Nyra greeted, setting the case down on a bench. “Ready to light something up?”

  Eve forced a smile. “That’s the pn.”

  Nyra flipped open the case, revealing a pair of matte-bck gloves lined with pale blue etchings that pulsed faintly.

  “Energy-conductive gloves,” she said, tone clipped. “Helps channel output. Supposed to keep things stable.”

  Eve stepped forward, sliding the gloves on. They moulded easily to her hands, snug and cool. Up until now, her training had focused solely on physical recovery and refining control—nothing that would directly tap into her energy output. After what had happened during the incident, the Academy had been cautious. They didn’t want to risk another surge until they were sure she could handle it.

  Nyra watched her carefully. "How do they feel? The gloves. Any reaction?"

  Nothing stirred.

  Nyra gave a short nod and gestured toward the centre of the arena. "Step in. Give yourself more space to breathe. Sometimes it takes a wider field to really feel it."

  Eve nodded and stepped into the centre of the arena. She closed her eyes, inhaled deeply, focused.

  But the quiet inside her didn’t shift.

  She reached, waited—willed something to stir in her chest. Anything.

  Seconds passed. Then a minute.

  Still, nothing.

  Nyra’s voice came low. “You said the energy was there before.”

  “It was.” Eve’s voice caught. “During the breach. It was like—my whole body lit up.”

  “But since then?”

  Eve opened her eyes slowly. “Nothing.”

  Nyra didn’t respond right away. She tapped her wristband, powering down the arena shields. The soft glow faded around them.

  “It happens,” she finally said. “Shock. Energy dissonance. Sometimes the body needs time to reconnect.”

  Eve looked down at her gloved hands, trying not to let the disappointment sink too deep. “And if it never does?”

  “Then we figure out why,” Nyra replied. “You’re not the first this has happened to. And you sure as hell won’t be the st.”

  She turned, grabbing the case. “We’ll try again soon. Get some rest.”

  Eve stayed where she was as Nyra’s footsteps echoed away.

  The gloves felt heavier than before.

  She clenched her hands into fists—hard enough that the fabric creaked—but still, no spark.

  Just silence.

  The sound of the arena doors opening echoed faintly across the arena.

  Levi had arrived.

  Eve remained where she was, still and quiet in the centre of the training floor. She didn’t turn. But she watched from the corner of her eye as Nyra slowed on her way out, pausing when she spotted him approaching. The two exchanged a brief conversation near the edge of the arena, voices too low for Eve to catch.

  But she didn’t need to hear them.

  She could tell by the look on Nyra’s face—the tightness around her mouth, the subtle shake of her head—and the way Levi’s gaze flicked toward Eve in response.

  They were talking about her.

  Her ck of output.

  The gloves. The silence.

  Nyra gave Levi a final nod and moved past him, exiting the arena. Levi lingered in pce for a breath, then slowly began walking toward Eve.

  She kept her face neutral, but her eyes burned with quiet frustration and something heavier—sadness she couldn’t quite hide.

  Levi didn’t speak at first. He just kept walking until the space between them grew smaller.

  Then stopped—just far enough to not crowd her, but close enough to share the silence.

  "It doesn’t always happen on command," Levi said quietly, his voice steady but not cold. "Especially not when you're chasing it."

  Eve kept her eyes forward, her throat tight. "It’s like it’s gone. Like whatever I had that day was just… a glitch."

  Levi studied her for a moment. "That wasn’t a glitch, Eve. That was real. We all saw it. Felt it."

  She finally turned to face him, frustration flickering behind her eyes. "Then why can’t I feel it now? Why does it feel like I broke something that day?”

  He didn’t answer right away. He stepped a little closer, gaze unwavering. "Because your body remembers what happened. The shock of it. The pain. Even your energy’s trying to protect you. It’s not broken. It’s cautious."

  Her lips parted, but she had no words. Just silence again—this time shared.

  Levi looked at the gloves, then back at her. "Let’s take it slow. No pressure. Just you and the field. You don’t have to prove anything today."

  Something in Eve’s chest shifted—small, but real.

  She gave a faint nod.

  And the training resumed.

  But even as they moved through the exercises, something tugged at Eve's thoughts.

  Levi was different today. Softer. He spoke with less edge, lingered a little longer when giving feedback, and never once pushed her harder than she could handle. It was the most human she had seen him—less the elite operative and more the person behind the armour.

  She wanted to be grateful.

  But a quiet, gnawing thought crept in as she moved through another stance, her limbs fluid but her chest tight.

  Did he pity her?

  Was that what this gentleness was?

  Did he see her as broken?

  She couldn’t be sure.

  And that uncertainty hurt more than the silence.

  By the time the training ended, Eve felt worn—not from physical exertion, but from the weight of her own thoughts. She began unstrapping the gloves, walking toward the exit of the arena.

  That’s when she heard footsteps behind her, lighter and faster.

  “Eve!”

  She turned to see Rowan jogging toward her, a bright smile lighting up his face.

  “So, about that dinner I keep offering...” he said, catching his breath. “Would tonight be a good time?”

  Eve hesitated for a moment, still feeling the weight of the session. But something in her wanted a break—a distraction. Something that wasn’t silence and self-doubt.

  She smiled faintly. “Sure. Just need to head home and clean up first.”

  Rowan lit up, clearly thrilled. “Great. I’ll pick you up at eight.” He gave her a wink before jogging off, practically humming with excitement.

  Unbeknownst to either of them, Levi had seen it all from the far edge of the arena. He stood half in shadow, arms crossed, gaze locked on the scene.

  Something tugged in his chest—a tightness he couldn’t expin.

  He didn’t like Rowan. Never had. Too smooth, too perfect on the surface. All charm upfront, but Levi had seen men like him before. There was something else beneath the smile.

  But that wasn’t what unsettled him most.

  What truly twisted inside was the question he didn’t want to ask himself:

  Why did he care?

  When the exchange was over and Rowan had gone, Eve turned to find Levi still lingering.

  “Thanks for today,” she said gently. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  His expression shifted instantly, cooling like frost spreading over water.

  “I won’t be here,” he said curtly. “I’ll be out of the city for a few days.”

  She blinked, taken aback by the change in his tone. “Oh... okay.”

  Without another word, Levi turned and walked past her, his shoulder brushing lightly against hers as he went.

  Eve stood there for a long moment, her heart sinking.

  What was his problem?

  —

  Back in her apartment, Eve checked the time. 7:25.

  Not long until Rowan arrived.

  She stood by the small mirror near the window, brushing her long fair hair that was still damp from the shower. Her fingers moved slowly, lost in thought. The st time she’d gone on a date… it had been with Derrick. Two years ago. The memory pricked her unexpectedly, a quiet ache curling in her chest.

  She blinked it away and set the brush down, taking a breath.

  She dressed in a soft, elegant midnight-blue dress—simple but fttering. The kind of dress she might have worn to a dinner party back on Earth. She buckled her heels, spritzed perfume gently onto her neck, and added a touch of blush to her cheeks. Then she stood still for a moment, facing herself in the mirror.

  The woman staring back looked familiar—but different somehow.

  Like the version of herself from before life fell apart. Polished. Calm. In control. But now, there was something new in her reflection—a quiet strength she hadn't recognized before. Like she was still that woman from Earth, but somehow... stronger.

  She was determined to embrace whatever came next.

  A knock at the door broke her running thoughts.

  She opened it to find Rowan standing there, all charm and charisma, his smile broad and easy. "You look amazing," he said without hesitation.

  Eve smiled in return, nodding politely. "Thanks."

  They headed out into the evening. Rowan’s vehicle—a sleek, metallic violet transport car with smooth curves and subtle glow-lines—hummed silently at the curb. If they were back on Earth, she thought, it would be the Terra equivalent of a luxury coupe.

  The city lights stretched before them, waiting for the night to begin.

  The evening unfolded with a surprising ease. They dined at a rooftop restaurant bathed in soft ambient glow, the skyline of Caelux glittering like stardust in every direction. Rowan was attentive, his charm never overbearing, his smile always warm.

  Eve was a little tipsy from the wine, her cheeks flushed with warmth—not just from the alcohol, but from the way Rowan leaned in when he spoke. His voice was smooth, the words lilting with genuine interest.

  He was polite. He was handsome. And for the first time in a long while, she found herself ughing.

  Even if part of her heart still ached from earlier, even if another part still wondered what Levi's problem had been—right now, she just let herself be here.

  With Rowan.

  After dinner, the evening followed with a walk through the glowing streets of Caelux. Rowan guided her down one of the elevated pedestrian paths that wound through the city like flowing rivers of light. The air was crisp but pleasant, and everything shimmered—from the neon-threaded rooftops to the soft pulse of fluxline nterns embedded in the pavement.

  They passed through market squares where stalls sold glowing crystals and artisan tech jewellery, the air scented with sweet spices and roasted street food. Music pyed faintly from open cafes tucked into curved gss buildings, and overhead, the monorails glided by silently on suspended tracks, their lights blending into the stars.

  Rowan narrated little stories along the way—this was where he'd skipped training once to sneak off and try Void-berry wine; that tower had been rebuilt three times due to minor breaches. His stories were casual, light, easy.

  Eve found herself enjoying it more than she expected. Caelux at night was luminous, dreamlike, but it felt alive—and somehow, for the first time, she felt like she was part of it.

  Rowan drove her home afterward, the car gliding smoothly through the glowing streets. When they arrived outside her building, he stepped out with her and walked her to the door, hands tucked into his jacket pockets as they chatted casually.

  "So, where is it you live again?" Eve asked, her tone light as they reached the door.

  "Elite operatives are housed across the other side of the Academy," Rowan replied. "They’re all separate quarters—different sizes depending on what you, or rather your family, can afford for you."

  He gnced around curiously, then added with a lopsided smile, "Funny thing is, I’ve never actually been to this side of the Academy. Not until I met you."

  Eve paused for a moment, her hand on the door. Then, on impulse, she opened it and stepped inside.

  "Want to come in for a bit?"

  Rowan blinked, surprised—but only for a second. "Yeah. Sure."

  Inside, Eve gestured toward the space. "Well... as you can see, it’s basically one big room. Living, dining, kitchen..."

  Before she could finish, Rowan stepped in close and kissed her.

  It caught her off guard, her breath hitching for half a second—but then she kissed him back. He grew more confident quickly, one hand sliding to her waist, drawing her in. She followed his lead, heart racing, the buzz of the night still alive beneath her skin.

  Things continued that way for a moment—his hands wandering, his touch growing more assertive. She felt him graze her leg, fingers brushing upward in a slow, deliberate motion.

  Her breath caught.

  Something in her shifted.

  The warmth from before turned uneasy.

  She gently pulled back, trying to steady her breathing. "Rowan..."

  But he leaned in again, attempting to draw her closer, arms tightening around her waist.

  Eve pressed her hands to his chest, firmer now. "Rowan, wait."

  That pause was enough. He stepped back, blinking, his smile fading just slightly.

  "Is everything okay?" he asked, voice low but not unkind.

  Eve nodded slowly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Yeah... I had a really nice time tonight. But I think we should just end the night here."

  Rowan studied her for a moment, then gave a soft, easy smile. "Okay. No problem."

  She walked him to the door, and they exchanged a quiet goodbye. As the door closed behind him, Eve stood in the stillness for a long moment.

  It was all happening too fast. Her thoughts spun, the awkward tension lingering just beneath her skin.

  She exhaled slowly and leaned against the wall, unsure what she was supposed to feel.

  Only that something didn’t sit quite right.