Chapter 9: Taking the Next Step

The evening slowly descended on the military base, casting a dim shadow over the installations. Only the distant hum of machines and the occasional clack of soldiers' boots broke the heavy silence. In her austere room, Evelyn sat at her desk, a small lamp casting a soft light over the pages of her notebook. She had spent most of the day tending to Vykhor, but now that night had fallen, it was time to organize her thoughts and write them down.

With her notebook open in front of her, Evelyn let her hand glide across the paper, tracing the intricate lines of Vykhor's prosthetic. Every wire, every connector, every metal plate was meticulously sketched, her memories and observations of the day coming to life in an almost perfect blueprint. Her hypermnesiac mind allowed her to recreate every detail with unmatched precision, making each line on the paper as clear as if she were holding the prosthetic itself.

Yet, it wasn't the complexity of the prosthetic that held her attention tonight. Something else troubled her deeply. Ever since she set foot on this base, she couldn't shake a persistent feeling of unease. Colonel Kane had been professional, sure, but there was something about his demeanor that made her wary. A calculated coldness, perhaps, or a subtle way of dodging certain questions she had asked.

Evelyn closed her eyes for a moment, her thoughts drifting back to her interactions with him. Every time she had tried to learn more about the mission or the exact reason why they were so intent on keeping Vykhor alive, Kane had responded evasively, as if he was trying to hide something. He had never mentioned Vykhor’s real condition, nor why they hadn’t tried to treat him sooner. Why had they left her alone with him, without direct supervision, when he clearly posed a potential threat?

These questions swirled in her mind, fueling her growing anxiety. She had always been highly attuned to the intentions of others, a reflex developed out of necessity during her childhood in the lab. And her instincts were screaming that Kane was keeping something important from her. Something that might change everything, not just for her, but for Vykhor as well.

She opened her eyes again and picked up her notebook, jotting down a few quick notes beneath the prosthetic sketch: "Kane’s distrust is palpable. He hasn’t told me the whole truth. Why insist so much on isolating me from the outside world? What’s their real objective with Vykhor?"

Seeing the words on the paper crystallized her anxiety. She knew she had to be careful, that this mission was far more complex and dangerous than she had initially thought. And yet, despite these doubts, she felt a fierce determination growing inside her. She wasn’t one to back down from a challenge, and if Kane was hiding something, she would eventually uncover it.

She ran her fingers over the star-shaped pendant Lily had given her, a comforting gesture that reminded her why she was doing all of this. Her work with Vykhor wasn’t just about scientific skill, but also about morality. She had to do what was right, even if it meant taking personal risks. The shadow of Dr. Griffin still loomed over her, his last words echoing in her mind.

Finally, she closed her notebook, holding it close for a moment before sliding it under her pillow. It had become a ritual, a way for her to keep her deepest thoughts within reach and, at the same time, protected from prying eyes. She knew that the days ahead would be crucial, that every action, every word she spoke could have enormous consequences.

Evelyn stood up, turned off the desk lamp, and prepared for what was likely to be a sleepless night, her mind still buzzing with activity. But one thing was clear to her: she wasn’t going to let Kane or anyone else manipulate her. She would continue her mission with Vykhor with all the diligence and discretion she could muster, but she would remain vigilant. Too much was at stake for her to afford any mistakes.

As soon as she closed her eyes, it wasn’t the memories of the lab from her childhood that resurfaced in her mind, as they had the night before. No, this time, it was Vykhor who occupied her thoughts. His intense gaze when he had grabbed her wrist, the way his fingers had closed around her with controlled firmness, without violence. He had touched her, and although the contact had only lasted a moment, it had left an indelible mark.

But it wasn’t just his gaze or the touch that haunted her. What troubled her most were his words, the ones she hadn’t understood. They had been spoken in a language she didn’t know, but their tone, their strength, had remained etched in her memory. Vykhor’s voice, deep and warm, carried a natural authority, almost imposing. It still echoed in her mind, like a distant reverberation, impossible to ignore. His authority was nothing like Kane’s.

Kane was authoritative by rank, by his military position. His authority came from the insignias on his uniform and the orders he gave to his subordinates. But Vykhor didn’t need any of that. His authority was innate, as if he had always been destined to lead, to impose his will through his mere presence. He didn’t need to raise his voice or remind anyone of his rank to be heard and respected. It was embedded in him, in every fiber of his being, and Evelyn couldn’t help but wonder where that different kind of aura came from.

What had he wanted to tell her at that moment? Why had he felt the need to speak to her in a language he knew she wouldn’t understand? And why the touch? He could have just spoken, but he had chosen to touch her, to convey something through that contact. Even now, in the darkness of her room, Evelyn could still feel the warmth of his hand, the subtle but determined pressure. It didn’t feel like a threat, but rather like a call, an attempt at deeper communication.

The next morning, after a quick breakfast at the officers' mess, Evelyn decided to take a discreet detour before heading to Vykhor in the medical room. She needed some advanced tools to continue her work on Vykhor’s prosthetic, and she knew exactly where to find them: the military engineers. Playing the curious scientist, she made her way to the workshop, wearing an innocent smile. Her face radiated a false naivety, and the engineers, eager to gain the attention of a talented scientist, were more than happy to answer her seemingly harmless questions.

She listened intently, asking about the military technologies they used, feigning interest in their work. But her true goal lay elsewhere. Seizing the moment when they turned their backs to show her the specifics of their projects, Evelyn deftly swiped a few sophisticated tools. Tools she desperately needed. She skillfully slipped the items into the inner pocket of her coat, her angelic smile perfectly masking her intentions. To further maintain her cover, she played with her hair, as if her mind was wandering, leaving no doubt about her apparent innocence.

Once she exited the workshop, Evelyn let out a sigh of relief as she stepped into the medical room. Vykhor was already there, sitting on the exam bed, his unreadable gaze fixed on her. He raised an eyebrow, curious about this human who seemed to be returning from a secret mission, before lying down without a word, respecting the unspoken silence that always hung between them.

Without wasting a second, Evelyn immediately got to work, muttering excuses and random thoughts to herself. Her movements were precise and methodical. Every tool she had stolen fit perfectly into the process of repairing Vykhor’s prosthetic. Though she knew it was still impossible to restore full functionality, she was progressing at an impressive pace. Under her hands, the Kael'tarien technology began to respond to her efforts. She had already managed to restore some basic controls, making the arm more functional than it had been since the crash. But time was running out, and she knew that every minute spent here was a minute under scrutiny. Kane would surely come soon.

As she was hunched over the prosthetic, focused on a delicate connection, a voice murmured behind her. “Evelyn.” Vykhor. That single word, spoken with a calm gravity, startled Evelyn. She placed a hand over her heart, feeling its rapid beat beneath her palm, betraying her surprise. She looked at him with suspicion, her mind alert to the unexpected interruption.

“If you’re just going to speak in... Kael’tarien, I assume...” she replied, slightly annoyed. “It’s useless, Vykhor. In fact, it’s frustrating.” She had already endured hours of silence, and this sudden conversation only added to her confusion. She turned back to resume her work, preferring to ignore this new enigma, but Vykhor’s voice returned, this time with a hint of amusement.

“Who are you, really, Evelyn?” he asked, his words dragging slightly, as if he already knew the answer.

Evelyn froze, surprised by the unexpected fluency of his speech. She straightened slowly, her eyes widening slightly. “Wait, you speak our language?” she exclaimed, her voice low but filled with disbelief. She knew that, even if he wasn’t physically present, Kane was always lurking somewhere. He was always there, like a shadow, a silent threat looming over every decision she made. She couldn’t afford to let this revelation leave the confines of the room.

Vykhor observed her for a moment, his yellow eyes gleaming with wisdom. “You should be wary of what you don’t know, Evelyn Ashcroft,” he said calmly before falling into a disturbing silence. Evelyn remained frozen, unable to decide whether those words were a warning or simply an observation. Wary of what? Of whom? She already knew this situation was dangerous, but Vykhor’s tone suggested that what she didn’t know was far more vast than she had imagined.

That evening, after hours spent working on the prosthetic, Evelyn began packing up her instruments. Every move was deliberate, the weight of the day’s events weighing on her. But just as she was about to wrap things up, the door swung open abruptly, almost slamming against the wall. Colonel Kane entered with firm steps, his eyes sweeping the room with particular attention. His gaze only briefly rested on Evelyn before sliding directly to Vykhor, lying on the bed. He scrutinized the Kael'tarien as if he expected something unexpected to happen.

“Dr. Ashcroft, it’s time to return to your quarters,” Kane said in a clipped tone, without a hint of warmth in his voice. He waited, his piercing gaze searching for any sign of resistance.

Evelyn stood slowly, keeping her expression as neutral as possible. She carefully closed her instruments before packing them into her bag, all the while feeling the oppressive weight of Kane’s gaze on her. He never took his eyes off Vykhor, as if expecting an explosion, a sudden betrayal, or maybe even a revelation. Evelyn spared one last glance at Vykhor before leaving the room, feeling a knot of tension form in her stomach.
Danger was drawing closer. She could feel it, every fiber of her being on high alert.