Dr. Odium sat in the darkened control room, the only light coming from the monitors arrayed before him. His sharp eyes flicked over the footage playing on the largest screen, each frame feeding his growing certainty—and his frustration.

The entity was unmistakable, her white hair shimmering like silver in the harsh light of the storm. But it wasn’t her presence that drew Odium’s attention. It was the figure standing beside her.

Ben Carter.

Odium leaned forward, his fingers steepled as he watched the footage again. Ben was talking to the entity, his posture relaxed, his gestures almost friendly. The way the entity responded to him—or rather, didn’t attack him—was what set Odium’s teeth on edge.

“Fascinating,” he murmured to himself, though his tone was anything but pleased.

He paused the footage, zooming in on Ben’s face.

Odium’s mind raced. Ben was now actively seeking out entities, and attempting to bond with them.

He turned to a smaller monitor, bringing up the mission report from the encounter with Rio. The words “Agents KIA” glared back at him like an accusation. Vale, Harris, and the others had been written off as casualties of the entity’s rampage, but Odium knew better. Vale was alive, and probably working with Ben.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard, hesitating for the briefest moment. Bringing this to General Appalachia was a calculated risk. If Appalachia decided to dig too deeply, he might uncover the truth—that Vale had survived, and by finding that information, he would find out about Anchor Theory.

But if Odium didn’t act now, he risked losing control of the narrative entirely.

With a sharp exhale, he tapped a few keys, compiling the footage and overlaying it with the relevant mission data. The file was damning enough to serve his purpose: Ben Carter, alive and interacting with a hostile entity and assisting it in escaping Rift Control Agency personnel.

Odium stood, the tension in his shoulders coiled like a spring as he made his way to Appalachia’s office.

General Appalachia’s office was as imposing as the man himself. The walls were lined with maps, awards, and portraits of past leaders, their stern faces a constant reminder of the Agency’s legacy. Appalachia sat behind a massive desk, his broad frame dwarfed only by the sheer size of the room.

“Dr. Odium,” he said, his gravelly voice filling the space. “This better be important.”

“It is,” Odium said, keeping his tone measured. “I’ve reviewed the footage from our latest mission.”

He set the tablet down on the desk, tapping it to bring up the video. The footage began to play, the storm raging on the screen as the entity descended into view. Appalachia’s expression darkened as the seconds passed, his sharp eyes narrowing when Ben’s figure appeared.

“Who’s that?” he asked, his tone clipped.

“Benjamin Carter,” Odium said. “You might remember him as the assistant Vale recruited prior to the last Rio encounter?”

“He was presumed dead until now,” Odium said, his voice calm but firm. “But as you can see, he’s very much alive, and he’s assisting the entities against the Agency.”

Appalachia’s jaw tightened, his hand clenching into a fist on the desk.

Odium pressed on. “It’s likely that Carter’s actions contributed to the loss of our agents during the Rio encounter, including Agent Vale. If he’s working with the entities, he’s a threat to the Agency and everything we stand for.”

Appalachia stared at the screen for a long moment, his expression unreadable.

Finally, he leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled beneath his chin. “You’re certain about this?”

“As certain as I can be,” Odium said, carefully choosing his words. “Carter’s presence is no coincidence.”

Appalachia nodded slowly, his gaze still fixed on the screen. “I’ll have one of my men look into him,” he said, his tone cold.

As he left the office, his mind churned with the possibilities. The wheels were in motion, but the risk was far from over. If Appalachia dug too deep, he might uncover more than just Ben’s involvement. He might find the trail leading back to Vale, to the betrayal, and worst of all, to the truth about Anchor Theory.

But Odium pushed those thoughts aside. For now, his plan was working. And that was all that mattered.

Meanwhile, the hum of the submarine filled the air, a steady vibration that seemed to amplify the tension inside. Vale had converted the airship back into its submarine form shortly after we left the city, the sleek vessel now cutting silently through the depths of the ocean.

Unfortunately, the transformation hadn’t done anything to smooth over the growing friction between Rio and Misty.

I sat at the small table in the mess area, fiddling with a cup of water as Rio paced back and forth in front of me. The glare she shot at the other end of the room could have ignited the walls.

Misty sat quietly in a corner, her sharp gray eyes fixed on something only she could see. She hadn’t said—or gestured—much since we’d left the city, but that hadn’t stopped Rio from throwing her plenty of pointed looks.

“Are you seriously just going to sit there?” Rio demanded, stopping mid-pace to stare at me.

I sighed, setting the cup down. “What do you want me to do, Rio? Tell her to stop existing?”

Her glare sharpened. “Don’t twist my words. You know what I mean.”

“Actually, I don’t,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “Misty hasn’t done anything to you.”

“She doesn’t have to,” Rio snapped. “She’s...” She waved a hand vaguely in Misty’s direction. “...just there. And it’s annoying.”

“Annoying?” I repeated, raising an eyebrow. “She hasn’t even looked at you.”

“She’s been looking,” Rio muttered, crossing her arms. “She’s just sneaky about it.”

At that, Misty’s head tilted slightly, her gray eyes flicking to Rio for the briefest moment.

“What?” Rio said, her tone sharp.

Misty didn’t respond, her gaze shifting back to the floor.

Rio let out an exasperated huff, throwing her hands up. “See? She’s doing it again!”

“Doing what?” I asked, my patience wearing thin.

“Acting all... mysterious and smug,” Rio said. “Like she’s better than everyone else.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to stave off the headache that was rapidly forming. “Rio, she’s not doing anything. She’s just quiet.”

“Too quiet,” Rio muttered.

At that, Misty stood, her movements deliberate but calm. She crossed the room, her white hair swaying slightly as she stopped a few feet from Rio. For a moment, the two of them just stared at each other, the air between them crackling with unspoken tension.

“Great,” I muttered under my breath. “Here we go.”

Misty raised a hand, gesturing slowly and carefully. Her fingers moved in a series of shapes that seemed to convey a single, clear message: I’m not trying to fight you.

Rio narrowed her eyes.

“Rio,” I warned, my voice firm.

Misty’s gray eyes darkened slightly, but she didn’t back down. Instead she wrapped Rio in an embrace. Rio was scrambling frantically, trying to escape.

“I think she’s trying to say she’s sorry,” I said, translating as best I could. “She’s not trying to upset you.”

Rio blinked, her arms dropping slightly. “Wait... what?”

Misty nodded, her expression softening slightly as she pulled away.

Rio opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. She looked at me, then back at Misty, as if she couldn’t quite process what had just happened.

“Well,” I said, breaking the silence. “That’s a start.”

Rio scowled, but there was less fire in her gaze now. “Fine. Whatever.” She turned on her heel and stalked toward the sleeping quarters, muttering something under her breath.

When she was gone, I turned to Misty, who was still standing in the middle of the room, her shoulders slightly slumped.

“Don’t take it personally,” I said gently. “Like I said, she’s just… protective.”

Misty’s gaze met mine, and for a moment, there was something almost hopeful in her gray eyes. She gestured faintly, a single motion that seemed to say Thank you.

“Anytime,” I said with a faint smile.

After Rio’s latest outburst, I needed a break. Misty had gone back to her quiet corner, and I didn’t blame her for wanting to keep her distance.

When I reached the control room, Vale was seated at the main console, her sharp gray eyes fixed on the glowing monitors in front of her. She didn’t look up as I entered, her fingers dancing over the keyboard with practiced precision.

“You should take a break,” I said, leaning against the doorway.

“No,” she replied without missing a beat. “The work doesn’t stop, and neither do I.”

“Sounds exhausting,” I said, stepping inside.

She finally glanced at me, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. “You should try it sometime.”

I chuckled, taking a seat in the chair across from her. “I think I’ll pass.”

For a moment, the only sound was the steady hum of the submarine and the occasional beep of the console. I watched as Vale pulled up a series of maps, energy readings, and reports, her focus razor-sharp.

“Anything new?” I asked, nodding toward the monitors.

“Plenty,” she said, her tone clipped. “I’ve been sifting through the Agency’s comms. They’re still chasing false leads, but it’s only a matter of time before they start connecting dots.”

I frowned. “You mean dots that lead to us.”

“Exactly,” she said, leaning back in her chair.

Her expression softened slightly as she studied me. “How are you holding up?”

I shrugged, not sure how to answer. “I’ve been better.”

Vale let out a quiet sigh, her gaze drifting to the monitors. “Rio will come around. From what I’ve gathered talking to her, she’s stubborn, but she’s not unreasonable.”

“She’s protective,” I said, more to myself than to Vale. “Sometimes a little too much.”

“She cares about you,” Vale said simply.

I glanced at her, surprised by the softness in her tone.

“Not everyone gets that kind of loyalty,” she added, her gaze steady.

“Yeah, well,” I said, running a hand through my hair. “I just wish she’d show it without turning everything into a fight.”

Vale chuckled faintly. “That’s who she is. She fights for the people she cares about.”

I nodded.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

“I’m just worried about what happens if we fail,” I admitted quietly.

Vale’s gaze sharpened, her tone turning firm. “We won’t fail.”

“You sound pretty confident,” I said, trying for a smile.

“Because I am,” she said, her expression unwavering. “I’m not risking my life and yours just to fail in the end. We’ll figure this out, Ben. No matter what it takes.”

“Thanks, Vale,” I said, standing.

I left the control room feeling lighter, her words echoing in my mind as I went to look for Harris.

I found Harris in the small workout area near the back of the submarine, the dull clink of weights and the steady rhythm of his movements filling the cramped space. He was doing pull-ups, his broad shoulders flexing with each lift. A faint sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead, but his expression remained as stoic as ever.

“Do you ever take a break?” I asked, leaning against the doorway. “I literally just had this conversation with Vale, what is with you people and your aversion to rest?”

Harris didn’t pause, his voice calm but edged with his usual gruffness. “Breaks are for people who don’t have enemies trying to kill them.”

“Fair point,” I said, stepping inside. “Still, you might want to save some of that energy for when we actually need it.”

He dropped from the bar, landing with a soft thud. Grabbing a towel, he wiped his face and gave me a sidelong glance. “Something on your mind, Carter?”

I hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. “Just thought I’d check in.”

Harris let out a dry chuckle, tossing the towel onto a nearby bench. “Didn’t think you cared.”

“Of course I care,” I said, crossing my arms. “You’re part of the team, aren’t you?”

He raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment, motioning for me to sit on the bench across from him.

“What’s bothering you?” I asked as I sat down.

Harris leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “Same thing that’s bothering everyone else. The Agency’s breathing down our necks, we’ve got two entities on board who could wipe us out if they wanted to, and we’re betting everything on a theory that might not even work.”

“Wow,” I said, letting out a low whistle. “When you put it like that, it sounds really bad.”

He smirked faintly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re the one Vale’s pinning her hopes on, Carter. You tell me—do you think this is going to work?”

I hesitated, his question cutting deeper than I expected. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “But I think we have to try. If there’s even a chance we’re right, isn’t it worth it?”

Harris studied me for a long moment, his green eyes sharp. “You sound a lot like Vale.”

“Is that a good thing?” I asked cautiously.

“Sometimes,” he said, leaning back against the wall. “She’s got vision, I’ll give her that. But vision doesn’t mean much if the people following you get burned in the process.”

I frowned. “You think she’s wrong?”

“I think she’s desperate,” he said bluntly. “And desperate people make mistakes.”

“That’s why she’s got us,” I said, my voice firmer than I expected. “To make sure she doesn’t.”

Harris raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You’re more optimistic than I thought.”

“Someone has to be,” I said with a shrug.

For a moment, the room fell quiet, the hum of the submarine filling the space.

“You’re doing all right, kid,” Harris said finally, his tone grudgingly approving. “Better than I expected, anyway.”

“Thanks,” I said, my lips quirking into a faint smile. “I think.”

He stood, grabbing a water bottle from a nearby shelf. “Just don’t get yourself killed trying to prove Vale right. You’re no good to anyone dead.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, standing as well.

Harris nodded, his expression softening slightly. “Maybe I will get some rest, Carter. We’ve got a long road ahead.”

I smiled as I turned to leave.

The hum of the submarine’s engines was the only sound as I made my way back toward the common area.

I rounded the corner toward the mess area, but the sharp sound of Rio’s voice stopped me in my tracks.

I frowned, stepping closer but staying out of sight.