Kruger

The Kruger transport ship descended through a ceiling of gunmetal clouds, engines humming low as rain streaked across the viewport. Far below, the ancient stronghold of Suela Acambeny emerged through mist — a fortress of obsidian stone perched atop a jagged plateau, surrounded by broken jungle and clawed earth.

Inside the shuttle, Kaiell sat in silence.

The war was over. This one, anyway.

The thirty-six Ibex Cells humming under his skin had quieted now — not gone, but still. As if they, too, were waiting for what came next.

Across from him, Joran floated unconscious inside a sealed recovery pod. His wounds hadn't stopped bleeding for a day. The medics said he was stable — but barely. He hadn't opened his eyes once since the evac.

Kaiell watched him in silence as the shuttle touched down.

The doors opened with a hiss.

Rain hit like needles.

He stepped out, coat immediately soaked. The landing pad was silent — no marching lines, no officers, just cold stone beneath his boots and a single figure waiting at the gates.

A tall woman with a sharp-lined coat of dark Viora-fiber and a blade-like stance. Her presence cut through the rain like it wasn't even falling.

"Initiate," she said. "You've arrived."

Kaiell didn't speak. Just stopped before her.

"I am Solra," she continued. "Instructor of Suela Acambeny. This place is no longer part of your war. It is part of your becoming."

Behind him, droids emerged to escort Joran's pod through the main archway. Solra glanced once, but said nothing more about it.

"The droids will show you to your room," she said. "Your armor will be delivered shortly."

She turned and walked inside without ceremony.

Kaiell followed her into the rain-shadow of the gates, leaving the war behind.

Later

Kaiell stood alone in the barracks room.

Minimalist. Clean. Silent.

The armor was waiting on a black metal stand — not Kruger-standard gear, but something refined, custom-built. Dark navy coat, slit for movement, high collar, silver trim lining its sharp silhouette. Light pauldrons embedded with Viora threads that pulsed faintly with each breath he took.

The material clung and flexed like a second skin.

It didn't feel like protection.

It felt like memory—stitched into every fold.

He wore it in silence, each layer clicking into place.

On the inside of the sleeve, his interface pulsed to life.

[Ibex Cells: 36 Stabilized][Neural Sync: 68%][Viora Compression State: Resting]

He stood in the mirror a moment.

Not admiring. Just adjusting to what he had become.

But even that couldn't hold his focus.

Because below that data feed, his body sent a simpler message.

Hunger.

Real, aching hunger.

Mess Hall, Suela

The doors opened with a hiss, and Kaiell stepped into a long, steel-framed chamber lit by low, ambient strips. There were no lines. No ration blocks.

Just a wide counter, a silent android attendant, and heat.

Real heat.

He walked up slowly, scanning the small menu on the holodisplay.

Fresh meat.

Steamed greens.

Black-bread. Bone broth.

Not a protein pack. Not recycled synth-bar.

Food.

He barely managed a word. "Meat. Please."

The droid obeyed in silence, preparing a simple tray—charred red slices of real meat, steaming broth, roasted vegetables. It handed it over with mechanical precision.

Kaiell carried it to a long table and sat alone.

Then—

He took a bite.

His jaw locked.

The first chew wasn't just flavor.

It was memory.

Salt. Fat. Fire. Heat.

And something broke open in him.

His breath hitched. His eyes stung. Not from pain. Not from grief.

Just from something that had been gone so long, he'd forgotten it mattered.

Home.

That's what it felt like. A tiny, impossible piece of it.

The mines on Rust-12 had never fed him like this. Not even close. And after Jou, after the rift, after the captain, after Vox—

This was a reminder that he was still human.

Still alive.

He didn't rush. He didn't speak. Just sat there in his new armor, eating slowly, bite by bite.

The room stayed silent.

No war.

No orders.

Just rain tapping faintly against the long windows.

And for the first time in months—

Kaiell allowed himself to feel full.