The liquid in the vial was cold—bitter enough to make your eyes water—but the effect was near-instant. The throb in your skull receded into a dull hum, and the room finally stopped spinning. But as the physical pain faded, the reality of your situation became sharper, crueler.

"There," Scar murmured, taking the empty glass from your shaking hand. "Better?"

"Don't act like you're caring for me," you spat, though the bite in your voice was weakened by your proximity to him. "You’re an Overseer of the Fractured. I’m a resonator for the Academy. There is no 'renewed partnership.' There’s only a massive fucking mistake."

Scar stood up, pacing the length of the stone chamber with the predatory grace of a cat. "A mistake? Is that what we’re calling it?" He stopped at a desk, picking up a familiar object. It was your Academy communicator. It was cracked, the screen dark. "You were the one who sought me out. You were the one who bypassed the perimeter sensors to find that little underground hole in the city."

He tossed the broken device onto the bed. It bounced against your leg like a lead weight.

"You're AWOL," Scar said, his smirk returning. "They’ve probably already flagged your resonance signature. If you go back now, what will you tell them? That you 'accidentally' spent the night in the heart of a Fractured stronghold? That the red marks on your neck are from a Tacet Discord attack?"

You felt the blood drain from your face. You reached up, your fingers grazing your collarbone, feeling the faint, raised heat of the skin there. Memories—flashes of red light, the scent of leather, and the feeling of being seen in a way the Academy never saw you—began to flicker in your mind like a dying lamp.

"You trapped me," you whispered.

"I gave you what you wanted," Scar countered, stepping back into your personal space. He leaned over you, pinning you between his arms against the headboard. "Freedom from the 'greater good.' Freedom from being a pawn. Here, you aren't a tool for Jinzhou. You're just... you."

He leaned down, his forehead resting against yours. The metallic spice of his scent was overwhelming now.

"I have a mission," he whispered. "A rift is opening near the Desorock Highland. My people are moving in to harvest the Echoes. Stay with me. Help me. And I’ll make sure the Academy never finds what’s left of your reputation."

You looked at the broken communicator, then back at the man who had spent months trying to break your will—and may have finally succeeded in a single night.

"And if I refuse?"

Scar’s eyes flickered, the yellow pupils slitting. He didn't look angry; he looked hungry. "Then you walk out that door. You head back to the Academy. You explain the blackout, the missing hours, and why your resonance is vibrating at the same frequency as mine. But we both know how they treat 'corrupted' resonators, don't we?"

He reached out, his thumb tracing the line of your lower lip.

"So, little lamb. Are we going to the Highlands? Or are you going to go back to your cage?"