Chapter 86: What Holds the Kael'seth Pack Together

**Rest Room — A few hours later**

The Narak’Tharr was drifting in low orbit around a deserted satellite, its engines in standby. Inside, the ship was bathed in soft, muted light—almost gentle after the blinding madness of Calyptus 7.

Evelyn was alone in the rest room. Well… almost.
Blue was lying at her feet. Massive. Silent. Loyal. His slow breathing made the floor hum under her hand as she absentmindedly stroked his fur, eyes lost in the dark screen in front of her.

“I thought this mission would be simple,” she murmured. “A signal anomaly, a quick scan, a routine jump. Not a psychedelic trip with eyeball muffins.”

Her voice was low. Tired.
Then she slowly turned her head. Vykhor stood in the doorway, arms crossed, leaning against the frame. Silent, as usual.

But she looked at him. For a long time.

“Why did you follow me?”

He tilted his head slightly.
“Because you asked me to.”

“No… Vykhor, really. You knew it was a trap. That the ship wasn’t normal. And you still came. Zeynn too. And Blue. Even when it’s absurd. Dangerous. Suicidal.”

She paused. Her voice broke, barely:
“Why are you all still here?”

A long silence.
Vykhor stepped forward. Soundless. He knelt in front of her, calmly. And for once, he didn’t dodge the question.

“Because you make us believe we can be more than what we were.”

His yellow eyes didn’t leave hers.
“You were a test subject. He was a rejected kid. I was a fallen prince turned killer. We should have been wreckage. And yet…”

He took her hand, with that raw gentleness he reserved for her alone.
“You look at us like we still have something clean left. Something beautiful. Even in the mud.”

She blinked, surprised.
Zeynn walked in at that moment, barefoot, a blanket around his shoulders. He looked like he’d heard the end of the conversation but pretended otherwise.

“I’m staying because you’ve got good food and a warm bed,” he said. “And… because you’re a pain. But you’re my pain.”

He plopped down beside Blue, who lazily opened one eye and nudged him.

Evelyn laughed. A little.

Then she cried. Not much. Just enough.

Vykhor gently tightened his grip on her hand.
“You must never doubt this,” he murmured. “We don’t follow you because you’re always right. We follow you because even when you’re wrong… you still love what’s left standing in the ruins.”

She pressed her forehead to his.
“Thank you.”

Blue sighed.
Zeynn pretended to sleep. But his smile stayed, in the ship’s gentle shadows.

**Captain’s Quarters — Later that Night**

The ship was asleep.
No sound but the soft beeps of surveillance modules and the suspicious snoring of Zeynn at the end of the corridor.

Vykhor’s quarters were bare, like the rest of his life: black metal, impeccable storage, not a single useless object. But since Evelyn had moved in, her presence was everywhere—a notebook open on the desk, a soft wool blanket, a chipped mug with constellation patterns. And a plant that had no reason to survive here… yet somehow did.

Vykhor stepped out of the shower. Shirtless, hair still damp, he dried off absently. His energy veins pulsed faintly, calmer than usual. He was tired—not physically, but the kind of tired that came after watching the woman he loved doubt herself.

Evelyn was already sitting on the bed, legs tucked under her, one hand resting where Blue sometimes curled up—as if she were getting used to the temporary absence of his presence.

She looked up at Vykhor.
“You never sleep after missions, huh?”

He shrugged.
“Too much to analyze.”

“Even this one? A hysterical AI, karaoke, and eyeball muffins?”

He stepped closer. Slowly.
“Especially this one.”

She made room for him on the bed. He sat beside her in silence.

A comfortable silence settled.
“You know what scared me the most?” she asked after a while, eyes fixed on her own hands.

He turned toward her, patient.
“It wasn’t the memories in the maze. Not the illusions. It was afterward. When I saw your faces. When I realized I could’ve lost you… just because I followed a signal.”

She took a shaky breath.
“I’ve always made decisions alone. Until you. Now I have to learn how to carry your lives, too. And I’m afraid I’ll screw it up.”

Vykhor cupped her cheek. His palm was warm, steady—and the way he held her said everything he didn’t.

“Evelyn, you see farther than enemy lines, deeper than any algorithm, truer than every war strategist I’ve ever met.”

“And yet, I dragged you into a ship possessed by an AI that made us sing to escape a room.”

“Yes. It was terrifying.”

He paused.
“But I heard your voice. And I finally understood what the word home means.”

She closed her eyes. The tears came again—no pressure, no shame. Just there.
“You realize you’re turning into a romantic, don’t you?”

He groaned.
“I hate it.”

“You love it, actually.”

She leaned in, slid her hands behind his neck, and pressed her forehead to his. He pulled her into his arms, hard—not to shield her. Just… to hold her close. As if he’d nearly lost her somewhere between a plushie explosion and a cursed teacup.

The bed shifted gently beneath their weight. They stayed like that, a moment out of time, breathing in sync.

“Will you stay with me tonight?” she asked.

He didn’t answer. He laid her down beside him, wrapped an arm around her, and switched off the light with one gesture.

And in the dark, he kept her safe. In the space he’d carved out for her. A space he would defend with everything he had.

**Zeynn’s Quarters — Deep Artificial Night**

The light was dim—just enough to avoid complete darkness. Zeynn had changed the settings long ago. He didn’t like full blackness. Too many memories lived there.

He lay on his bed, arms behind his head, eyes open. Not asleep. Not yet.

At his feet, Blue was sprawled out like a beast of legends. All muscle, smilodon fangs, lightning under the skin. And tonight, he purred softly. Deep, resonant. Almost earthly.

Zeynn ran a hand through the feline’s electric fur.
“I really thought we were gonna get eaten by a killer plushie or turned into sentient cookies…”

Blue growled softly, as if agreeing. Or saying: You brought this on yourself when you sang that song.

Zeynn closed his eyes.
And he thought about Evelyn.

About her quiet tears. About her voice when she’d asked, Why do you stay?

He smiled.
But not mockingly.

A soft smile. Rare.

He knew why he stayed.
He had no homeworld, no family, no epic backstory. Just a dirty past and a collar they’d eventually removed. But on the Narak’Tharr, he wasn’t a mistake.

He was Zeynn. Not a test subject. Not a slave. Not a burden.

Evelyn treated him like a student. A recruit. A little brother, sometimes. A damn anchor in the universe. And she believed in him—even when he didn’t.

And Vykhor… well. He wasn’t the hugging type. But he’d trained him. Protected him. Never looked down on him. He fought like a storm. Never said I love you. But sometimes, he placed a hand on Zeynn’s shoulder. And that was enough.

He glanced at Blue.
“You know what, buddy? This ship… it’s home.”

The feline opened one eye, got up, and rested his massive head on Zeynn’s chest.

Zeynn froze, breath caught. Then slowly, he wrapped an arm around Blue.
“Yeah. You’re not so bad either.”

A long silence. Gentle.

Zeynn closed his eyes.
And before falling asleep, he whispered—so low only Blue could hear:

“I love them, you know. Both of them. Even him. Grumpy mountain and all.”

A low purr in reply.

And in the comforting shadows of his cabin—surrounded by metal, invisible stars, and a supernatural feline more loyal than any god he’d cursed—Zeynn drifted off.

Home.
At last.