Page 7 of Fourth

He hated that he did. Hated the flicker of doubt it planted deep in his core. Because belief was not data. It was not useful. It was notsafe.

She stared at him, her voice edged now with frustration. “What am I to you? Some kind of weapon? Amistake?”

Riv’En shook his head. “You are not cleared for that information.”

She snorted. “You kidnapped me, butnowwe’re worried about clearance?”

“You do not understand what is at stake.”

“Then explain it.”

Riv’En went still, asubtle change. Tension threaded through his shoulders, breath held just a fraction too long, barely there, but telling to anyone paying attention. His directive had been clear. But this wasn’t just protocol anymore.

This was something else entirely.

His eyes narrowed. “You are a disruption. Not an experiment. Not a variable. Something the system cannot classify.”

She tilted her head. “You say that like I chose it. So what am I to you? Alab rat? Amistake you’re afraid to admit?”

Another pause. Then: “Your extraction was ordered by Third of Alpha Legion. His directive cited potential contaminationfrom Selyr. It is my role to evaluate and neutralize any latent threat. To determine if you are a danger to the Nine Galaxies.”

“And the others who were deemed dangers to the Nine Galaxies? Whatever the hell that is,” she added half beneath her breath. “What happened to them?”

He didn’t move. His silence stretched, unreadable. But the air changed. Just enough for her to feelit.

“Right,” she murmured. Her throat worked as she swallowed hard. Her eyes flicked away, blinking fast. “That’s what I thought.”

A long beat passed. She let her eyes drift up the wall, toward the faint shimmer of containment fields above her. “You know, Iwas supposed to be finishing a systems optimization project tonight. Real riveting stuff. Predictive modeling for autonomous planetary drones. Bet you don’t get a lot of that around here.”

Silence.

“Figures,” she muttered, voice thinner than before. “I finally sort out my research angle, and instead I get abducted by the universe’s most emotionally stunted super soldier.”

His brow twitched. She caughtit.

“Ah. There it is. Areaction.”

She leaned her head back on the table. Her hair spread across the surface in a pale fan, too bright against the sterile restraint table, too soft for the cold reckoning he was meant to operate under, atumble of soft strands that caught the light in a way that made it difficult to ignore.

Her features were symmetrical, flawless in a manner that defied randomness. Brilliant blue eyes, framed by lashes too long to be practical, had tracked him moments ago with a firethat made his chest tighten. Her figure, long and lean but softly curved, was wrong for containment, wrong for protocol, wrong for focus.

He told himself he was studying her. Measuring threat response. Biometric nuance. Psychological instability. But the longer he looked, the harder that lie became to sustain.

She was trembling. But still steady. Still watching.

“You haven’t asked my name,” shesaid.

“I do not require it. Your designation was included in the extraction directive. Maya Anderson.”

“Well, aren’t you just a delight.”

“The rest, your language patterns, device records, personal logs, Iretrieved from your device.”

She stared at him. “You mean you stole it.”

He didn’t respond. Didn’t needto.

“So, what else did you find?” she asked. “Banking passwords? Bad selfies? That one cringey video of me doing karaoke with my cat?”

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