HABIT

Flux closed the door to Myst's room with a quiet click. For a moment, he lingered, gaze lowering to his palm where a faint smear of blood remained. He wiped it against his sleeve, exhaling slowly before turning away.

The others were gathered in the main hall, the air thick with tension. Echo, sitting on the edge of a table, was the first to speak. "She alright?"

Flux gave a curt nod. "She just needs rest."

"She collapsed." Razor's voice was edged with frustration. "That's more than just needing rest."

His arms were crossed tight over his chest, jaw clenched. "What the hell was she thinking?"

Shade sighed, leaning against the wall. "You know exactly what she was thinking."

Nyx clicked his tongue, tossing a knife between his fingers. "Yeah. She wanted answers. And apparently, nearly frying her brain was worth it."

Before anyone else could comment, Cipher's fingers flew across his terminal. His expression darkened. "We have a problem."

Razor turned toward him. "What now?"

Cipher angled the screen so they could see. "I just checked the system logs. Myst didn't just access XENIS-IS. She connected to it."

Silence settled over the group, heavy and cold.

Flux was the first to break it. "What did she find?"

Cipher's fingers tightened around the edge of the table. "Live Government surveillance. Real-time feeds." He hesitated before adding, "They're tracking her. Actively."

Blaze let out a slow breath. "Then we don't have much time."

"They could be closing in already." Shade's voice was grim. "If we stay here, we're sitting ducks."

"We need to relocate." Razor's tone left no room for argument. "We've stayed in the Bastion for too long as it is. If they know this place is compromised, they'll come back with more than just an infiltration squad."

Cipher nodded, already pulling up potential routes. "I might have something. A backup location I mapped out a while ago—farther underground, harder to track. But getting there won't be easy."

Nyx smirked, spinning his knife one last time before tucking it away. "Nothing ever is."

Flux crossed his arms, glancing toward Myst's closed door before refocusing on the group. "Then we move. We're not waiting for them to come to us again."

After the conversation, Flux stepped away from the others, his mind still weighed down by the night's events.

He pushed open the door to Myst's room, his steps quiet, deliberate. She lay curled in the dim light, her breath slow but uneven. He hesitated for a moment, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest before stepping closer.

Myst stirred. She hadn't fully woken when he left, but now, as he approached her bedside, her eyes fluttered open—dazed, unfocused.

"You should be resting," he said quietly.

Myst tried to sit up, but the moment she shifted, pain lanced through her skull. A quiet gasp slipped past her lips. Flux caught her before she could collapse back, his hands steady as they gripped her shoulders.

"Hey," he murmured, his breath warm against her forehead. "Easy, sweetheart."

She exhaled shakily, her fingers instinctively clutching his sleeve. It wasn't much, but it was an anchor—something solid in the haze of her exhaustion.

Flux didn't move away. His hands lingered at her arms, firm yet careful. His touch was warmer than she expected, grounding her in a way that sent something sharp and unfamiliar curling in her chest.

She swallowed. "I… I keep making things worse, don't I?"

Flux's jaw tightened. "You found something we needed to know."

"And nearly got myself killed doing it."

He exhaled. "Would you have stopped if you knew what would happen?"

A beat of silence. Then, a whisper-soft, "No."

Myst's gaze drifted on his hand, a faint smear of blood stain. Her blood. She reached out hesitantly, fingers brushing against his knuckles.

Flux stilled.

The air between them shifted, suddenly too small, too charged. His grip on her arms softened, fingers barely tracing along the fabric of her sleeves. She could feel his breath now, close, slow, deliberate.

Her heart pounded.

Neither of them spoke.

Then, without thinking, Myst tilted forward—just slightly. A fraction of an inch. Enough for her breath to hover against his skin, for his fingers to tighten ever so slightly where they held her.

For a moment, just one moment, it felt inevitable.

But then—

Flux exhaled sharply and pulled back.

Not far, just enough to break whatever had nearly happened between them. His hand slid from her arm, lingering for the briefest second before it was gone completely.

Forcing himself to stand, Flux stepped back toward the door, exhaling as if shaking something off. "We're leaving soon," he muttered, his usual control slipping just slightly. "Get some rest."

And then he was gone, leaving Myst staring at the empty space where he had been, her pulse still racing.

She closed her eyes, pressing trembling fingers to her lips.

Almost.