When the door closed heavily behind them, Arin took a deep breath. His chest was still heaving with the echo of the scream they had just heard.

“Do you know what that thing was?” he asked fearfully.

“No,” Kael replied without hesitation. "But it wasn't supposed to be there. It's impossible to enter that building unless the system approves it.”

“So the system crashed?” Arin asked.

Kael didn’t answer. He just kept walking and turned into a back alley a few steps ahead, stopping in front of an ordinary, single-story house. He reached for the panel next to the front door and scanned his finger. The metal door slid open.

“Safe zone,” he said. "One of the emergency shelters designated for watchers in distress.”

Once inside, Kael re-secured the door. The lights on the walls glowed a faint yellow; the room was small but orderly contained a table, some ready-made food packs, emergency medical supplies, and a single sleeping pod. While Arin looked around, Kael moved to the terminal in the corner and began typing a sequence of commands rapidly. His fingers danced across the communication screen until a connection was made. A soft beep came from the small speakers, followed by the voice of a young woman.

“Kael? Everything... okay? Did someone tease you about your ultra-serious attitude again?”

Her voice was cheerful, but also tired.

Kael’s stern expression didn’t change. “Chapman, I’m in the shelter. Code red. Security breach.”

After a short silence, the woman’s tone shifted to seriousness: “...Coordinates?”

Kael transmitted the information. “Archive building,” he said curtly.

“What?!” Her voice rose. “Kael, a breach in that building is near impossible. Even if someone slipped past the entrance, the entire perimeter is lined with sub-spectrum sensors. Are you serious?”

“When have you ever heard me joke?” Kael replied.

She laughed lightly. “Bold question. Fine. I’ll choose to believe you.”

Arin let out a small laugh too. He had never imagined anyone could talk to Kael in that tone.

The woman spoke again. “Who's with you? Someone off-duty?”

Kael turned slightly to Arin. “A contracted jinn hunter. Case authorized.”

Then he added, voice softening just a little, “Someone I trust.”

Arin blinked, surprised again. It wasn’t just the words, something in Kael’s tone stirred an odd warmth in his chest. His robotic partner was full of surprises today.

The woman let out a thoughtful “hmm,” and in that moment Arin wished he could see her face.

“Alright,” the woman said. “I’ve initiated the proper breach protocol. The Central has classified it as a moderate threat. But you know how it is; at that level, it could take hours for a team to arrive.”

“I know,” Kael said with a brief sigh. After a short pause, he added in a lower tone, “Also... be careful. There’s a gap in the system. Someone's exploiting it.”

She was quiet for a moment. Then she replied in a tone both serious and warm:

“You too. If something like this is happening in the archive, it could happen elsewhere too. Give me some time, I’ll see if I can speed things up.”

Kael nodded. “Alright. And… thank you.”

When the connection cut off, Kael slowly turned and caught Arin watching him.

“So that Chapman... there’s really someone who talks to you like that?”

Kael just looked at him. His face showed no embarrassment or warmth, just his usual stern stare. “Lieutenant Dean Chapman. Is it really that strange that I have friends?”

“Friends? Plural?” Arin asked, genuine curiosity on his face.

Kael didn’t respond. Instead, he walked to the table and opened one of the water bottles. Arin followed his lead and grabbed one himself.

While unscrewing the cap, Arin watched him from the corner of his eye. He was back at the terminal, checking the security protocols and confirming the defense systems were active.

“What you did back there was impressive, I’ll admit,” Arin said after a while. “But I’ve been wondering... how much of your body is... synthetic? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Kael replied without taking his eyes off the screen. “That’s irrelevant to our current situation.”

“It’s actually relevant. Because sometimes you seem... more unresponsive than normal,” Arin said.

Kael finally turned and gave a small shrug. “Some of my reflexes had to be restructured. They couldn’t restore everything after the damage. But I’m still human.”

Arin fell quiet, then added with curiosity, “Why do you have so many synthetic parts?”

Kael’s body stiffened, but he answered. “I was injured on duty in the enforcement units... and they couldn’t put me back together.” He looked at his hands and feet. “Most of me, anyway.”

Arin hesitated for a moment before asking, “Was that before or after… the mother and daughter you saved from the fire?”

“Before,” Kael said simply. Then, he added, “These enhancements do save lives. That’s why I was able to get them out in time. But my team… they didn’t like how mechanical I’d become. My movements, my decisions… they said it wasn’t human anymore. I wasn’t one of them anymore.”

He gave a small, bitter shrug. “That place wasn’t home to me after that. I felt they weren’t my comrades anymore.”

“So you asked to leave?” Arin asked.

He nodded. “I filed for transfer myself. They pulled me off the field and made me a observer.”

Kael looked at him. Silence hung between them for a few seconds.

“Since we’re talking about relevant issues... you still haven’t explained why you couldn’t summon your jinn back there.”

Arin’s expression tensed. He slowly placed his bottle back on the table.

“I don’t know,” he said honestly.

“He just didn’t come. It was like something was blocking him... or him avoiding me. Ever since I saw that inscription, I felt it.”

Kael’s brow furrowed.

“Something blocking him? Like a magical barrier?”

Arin nodded slowly.

“I think so. It’s as if some kind of force is interfering with our connection. Azimushan has never refused me before.”

Kael’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

“That could mean someone knew exactly what they were doing when they set this trap.”

Arin glanced at Kael, worry tightening his chest. Azimushan? No answer.

A warning chime came from the terminal and Chapman’s voice returned:

“Kael, do you read me?”

Kael turned immediately. “Yes.”

“Good news,” she said quickly. “The Central has reconsidered its decision. An evacuation team will reach you in fifteen minutes. I gave them the coordinates. They’re en route to you.”

“Understood,” Kael said. “We’re getting ready.”

Her voice softened. “Stay put. And Kael...”

“Yes?”

“Stay safe. Please.”

After the connection ended, Arin looked at Kael again. “So... that’s a special friend, huh?”

Kael didn’t answer for a moment. Then he turned his head away. “We met before I got the synthetic parts. I was training for active duty, she stayed at the Central. We’ve... kept in touch ever since.”

Arin raised his eyebrows. “So you’re old friends. Got it...”

Before he could say anything else, a loud thud came from the left wall of the shelter. Arin froze. Kael quickly turned and ran security scans on the terminal.

The wall trembled again, followed by a deep, guttural growl from within the metal. Then came a short but heavy impact.

Kael’s fingers moved across the screen at an impossible speed. “This isn’t possible,” he muttered.

Arin swallowed hard. “So... that thing followed us?”

Right then, the steel wall shook again, and this time, the inner panel shifted slightly. A deep, crackling scraping sound filled the shelter.

“Kael?” Arin’s voice rose with fear.

Kael silently placed a hand on the wall and listened. Then he turned back to the terminal and scanned again.

“Pressure’s increasing. Whatever that thing is, it’s doing everything it can to break in.”

He tried to reestablish contact through the terminal, but there was no response. Inside, the warning lights shifted from orange to red.

“Before the evacuation team arrives,” Kael said quietly, “we may have to leave. These walls won’t hold.”

Arin looked around the room. “Is there another way out besides the door?”

Kael nodded and pointed at the floor. “There’s an emergency exit.”

Another tremor came, stronger this time. The shelter’s lights flickered.

Arin grabbed the table for support.

Kael pressed a button, and an escape map appeared on the screen. “There’s a hatch on the floor. Leads to a ladder that connects to the city’s waste system.”

Arin groaned in disgust.

Another tremor. This time, the door rattled visibly.

Arin rushed to Kael’s side. “What if we wait for the evacuation team?”

“Staying here gives us a twenty-three percent survival chance; going down, fifty-three.”

“Fifty-three?!” Arin’s voice trembled.

“More than double,” Kael said.

Arin gulped. “Alright, then. Let’s go. I’m not dying in a tin can.”

Kael shoved the table aside in one motion, bent down, grabbed the red emergency hatch handle, and pulled it up. With a hiss, the hatch opened, revealing a narrow passage just wide enough for one person.

Arin shut his eyes. “Ugh, it already smells awful!”

Kael peered down into the hole, saw nothing, and without hesitation began descending the metal ladder bolted to the edge. Arin wrinkled his nose but followed, the rusty steps digging into his palms.

“Why does everything have to be so damn hard?” he muttered as he climbed down.