The Weight of Choices

Knox strode down the dimly lit corridor of the Nexus Syndicate's base, his boots echoing against the metallic floor. The weight of the upcoming war sat heavily on his shoulders, but tonight, his focus was on something else—Seraph's decision.

The reinforced steel door to her cell loomed ahead. As he approached, the sensors registered his presence, unlocking with a quiet hiss. He stepped inside to find Seraph sitting on the edge of the cot, her wrists resting on her knees, eyes starting at the ground.

She didn't react at first. The silence stretched between them like an unspoken battle of wills.

Then, after a long pause, she spoke.

"I'll join you."

Knox studied her, searching for any deception, any hesitation. There was none.

"Under conditions, I assume."

Seraph nodded. "I won't kill civilians. I won't be your executioner."

He folded his arms. "And?"

"I won't be brainwashed into whatever ideology you feed the others."

Knox smired. "I wouldn't waste my time."

"And if I ever decide that what we're doing is wrong—"

Knox cut her off. "Then you'll leave?"

She nodded.

He exhaled through his nose. "Fine. But you should know... people don't leave the Nexus Syndicate easily."

Seraph didn't flinch. "Then I guess we'll find out, won't we?"

There was a moment of silent acknowledgement between them. Then Knox turned, gesturing for her to follow.

"Come on. You've been locked up for long enough."

The Offer of Comfort

Knox led Seraph through the base, past heavily armed Syndicate members, through dimly lit hallways of steel and glass. They arrived at the a door with reinforced plating, more secure than the rest.

His personal quarters.

He opened the door, stepping aside.

"Take a shower," he said simply. "I'll have someone bring you a change of clothes."

Seraph raised a brow. "You sure you trust me in here?"

"No," he admitted. "But you're not an idiot. If you were, you would've tried to fight me already."

She didn't argue. Instead, she disappeared into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

The Suit

And hour passed.

Knox waited, arms crossed, listening to the low him of the base. Then, growing impatient, he knocked on the door.

No answer.

He knocked again. "Seraph."

Still nothing.

With a sigh, he pushed the door open.

And immediately regretted it.

Seraph stood in front of a mirror, wrapped in a white towel that clung tightly to her damp skin, her toned frame illuminated by the dim bathroom lights. Beads of water still traced down her arms and shoulders, and she had been mid-motion, reaching for the new clothes.

For a brief second, their eyes met.

Then—

A spear of light materialized in her palm and flew toward his face.

Knox barely dodged, the projectile grazing past his cheek before vanishing into nothing.

"You perverted bastard!" she yelled.

The door slammed shut as he quickly stepped out.

Kaelina's voice chimed in his head, laughing.

"If you wanted to peek, you could've just used your X-ray vision, you know."

"Shut the hell up," Knox snapped internally, rubbing his temples.

Minutes later. Seraph emerged, now fully dressed.

The suit Max had designed for her fit snugly—a form-fitting black bodysuit with golden circuitry running along the seams, adjusting to her every movement. The flexible material was laced with advanced nanotech that adapted to her powers, reinforcing itself when she used light constructs. The golden lines pulsed faintly, syncing with her energy.

She stretched her arms, testing the suit. "It feels... strange. Like a part of me."

Knox "Max designed it to adapt to your power. It reinforces your constructs, makes you stronger, more efficient."

She crossed her arms. "And you? Do you ever take your armor off?"

Knox stiffened. "Of course. But I always need to be ready."

Seraph frowned. "Even around your own people? You don't even trust them enough to take it off?"

Knox glanced at her, then at the room around them. A long silence hung between them.

"I trust Max. I trust his team. And Kaelina."

She tilted her head. "Kaelina... your system?"

He nodded.

A thought seemed to cross her mind. "Take it off."

Knox raised a brow. "Excuse me?"

"I want to see the face of the man who claims he's going to change the world. The man who's killed so many innocent people."

Knix let out a slow breath. Then, he reached for the emblem of his chest. With a low hum, the nanotech retracted, folding into itself until only a simple black undershirt remained.

There he was.

White hair—pale as moonlight, slightly tousled from being under his armor all the time. Sharp features—strong jaw, high cheekbones, a straight nose that had clearly been broken before and reset.

And his eyes.

Blank.

Empty of color, empty of light.

Seraph studied him, crossing her arms. "Did you dye your hair?"

Knox shook his head. "No. It's always been like this."

She frowned. "Why?"

"Doctors thought it was a sickness," he muttered. "Maybe it is."

A beat of silence passed before she asked, "Would your parent be disappointed in you?"

He didn't hesitate. "Maybe. But dead men don't express disappointment."

Her expression softened. "... They were killed?"

He nodded.

"When they died, Kaelina came to me. She offered me a dream. A better world. A world where no child has to lose their parents. Where no one had to live in poverty. No more suffering. No more pain."

Seraph studied him for a long moment before speaking.

"Your eyes..." she murmured. "Have they always been so blank?"

Knox exhaled. "I don't know. Maybe they lost their light over time. Maybe they never had any."

Seraph looked at him, truly looked at him.

"...I don't agree with your way, or what you do. But I do pity you."

Knox smirked bitterly. "Strange. The angel pitying the villain."

She shook her head. "I'm not an angel. I'm human. My power is the angel, but I'm just like them. Like you."

A flicker of something passed through Knox's eyes, but it was gone in an instant.

"You asked if my parents would be disappointed." His voice dropped, his gaze cold. "I don't know. Maybe. But it doesn't matter. My parents came here for a better life, and this country took theirs. They were warned not to come, but they didn't listen."

He clenched his fists. "I don't blame them. I don't blame my family for leaving them on their own. I blame this world for letting criminals roam free. For locking them up and still giving them food, shelter, visitors. They get more humanity than people they murdered."

Seraph was silent.

Finally, she asked, "How do you know I won't betray you?"

Knox turned to her, his gaze sharp.

"Because it's not in your nature." He smirked. "Once you agree to something, you don't back out."

A long silence stretched between them.

And in that silence, the weight of their choices settled in.