Two Wrongs Make a Right Ch. 32

The dense jungle canopy filters dappled sunlight as I make my way through another unexplored region of Menagerie’s jungles. This time, I travel alone—Brutus remains content sleeping in the backyard of the dimensional house; he earned that very long rest after almost being eaten by a behemoth after all. 

Pod hovers silently above the treeline, working as my eyes in the sky and to not be caught off guard.

"ANALYSIS COMPLETE," Pod's monotone voice filters through my enhanced hearing with mechanical precision. "BEHEMOTH-CLASS ENTITY DETECTED APPROXIMATELY 400 METERS NORTHEAST OF CURRENT POSITION. THREAT CLASSIFICATION: RANK 2. CAUTION ADVISED."

I pause mid-step, crouching behind a massive tree trunk whose bark bears the claw marks of a big predator. "Elaborate on threat assessment."

"COMPARATIVE ANALYSIS WITH ARCHIVED DATA SUGGESTS SPECIMEN EXHIBITS PHYSIOLOGICAL SIMILARITIES TO DESIGNATION 'KING TAIJU' BASED ON SERPENTINE MORPHOLOGICAL CHARACTERISTICS. ANATOMICAL STRUCTURE INDICATES HIGHLY SPECIALIZED PREDATORY ADAPTATIONS OPTIMIZED FOR EFFICIENT PREY CAPTURE AND CONSUMPTION. ESTIMATED BODY LENGTH: 35-40 METERS."

A giant snake.

The mental image alone makes me instinctively check my weapons, though I already know Wilt and Blush would be woefully inadequate against something of that magnitude. This creature sounds exponentially larger than the Brachydios I managed to defeat and that was due I had a lot of help, and I still haven't completed forging my heavy weapon—too many other pressing matters have demanded my attention. This expedition was meant for reconnaissance and potential capture, not hunting. If I’m very unlucky and end up waking up this monster, I will immediately run away and use my Solar Surfer to safely disengage the monster.

"ADDITIONAL OBSERVATION: SUBTERRANEAN BURROW ENTRANCE LOCATED RECOMMENDATION: APPROACH WITH MAXIMUM STEALTH. AVOID LOUD NOISES AT ALL COSTS."

"Got it, Pod. Stay up there."

After that I keep moving between the dense foliage, where thorny vines and twisted roots create a natural maze. And soon enough I notice that the air grows heavier with each step, thick with moisture and the earthy scent of decomposition. Eventually, I reach what appears to be a natural depression carved into the jungle floor—though 'natural' seems questionable given its perfect symmetry.

The opening yawns before me like a mouth, easily large enough to accommodate a car. The walls bear a polished smoothness that speaks of regular passage by something massive, something that has worn the earth and stone down through many entries and exits.

"Maintain overwatch position, Pod. Alert me if enemies are closing in."

"UNDERSTOOD. INITIATING PERIMETER SURVEILLANCE. ALL EXTERNAL APPROACH VECTORS WILL BE MONITORED FOR POTENTIAL HOSTILE ACTIVITY."

After taking care of that, I slip into the burrow and make my way inside the grimm lair. Each footstep is calculated to avoid disturbing loose debris or unstable surfaces. The tunnel descends at a precipitous angle and the light soon disappears. Thankfully, my enhanced vision pierces the absolute darkness with little to no problem, supplemented by my natural night vision.

If the air in the surface already had changed, then the air underground is worse as it grows progressively thicker as I descend, but not bad enough that could threaten to choke me, maybe it is my defenses at play. The walls begin to show scratches and gouges, evidence of claws or scales scraping against stone. After what feels like an eternity, the tunnel finally opens into a vast chamber.

The space stretches before me like an underground auditorium, with a domed ceiling that disappears from view. Stalactites hang like stone teeth, and the floor bears the unmistakable smoothness of something massive moving across it repeatedly. And there, coiled in the center like a nightmare given form, lies the Behemoth.

The creature defies simple description—a fusion of serpentine elegance and Grimm savagery that evolution never intended. Its massive body stretches across the chamber floor in impossible coils, easily forty meters from head to tail as Pod calculated. The characteristic bone-white armor of Grimm encases its head and spine in segmented plates, while jagged crimson markings trace intricate patterns across scales that shimmer like black oil in the dim light. Jutting bone spikes protrude from its shoulders and flanks, creating the usual grimm bone armor.

Its head rests atop of its tail, massive nostrils flaring rhythmically with each breath. The sound fills echoes between the walls, a deep rumbling. Occasionally, the breathing transforms into bone-shaking snores that vibrate through the stone floor and make dust rain from the ceiling above.

And almost on cue, the new smell of this room hits me like a punch—layers of decay, musk, acidic smell and the metallic tang of rotting blood so concentrated it is even capable of making my eyes water despite wearing the blindfold. The stench causes me to cover my nose and mouth with my hand first, breathing shallowly until I summon a piece of cloth from my pocket space and quickly wrap it around me.

As my gaze sweeps the underground place, I discover the source of much of the horrific odor. Scattered around the Behemoth's coiled form like macabre trophies are the fractured remains of massive skulls—some bearing the distinctive shape of bears, others clearly reptilian, and a few I can't even recognize. But that is enough proof for me to assume this predator has been hunting and consuming other Behemoths in Menagerie for a long while. No wonder those massive monsters haven’t bothered with us, they are far more occupied and interested in hunting each other.

No wonder Pod classified it as Rank 2—this singular ancient Grimm is capable of razing villages. 

But that's enough for sightseeing. I have come with one objective in mind.

From this point forward, I move with excruciating care, treating each step like a potential death sentence. Despite my various talents and perks enhancing my stealth capabilities, I cannot afford even the slightest mistake here. Even less when the big bastard shifts periodically in its slumber—muscles rippling beneath scales and armor like tectonic plates, or soft hissing sounds.

Reaching what I estimate to be the middle section of its body, I manifest the Company Stamp in my right hand. The device materializes silently in my palm and then I press it firmly against the creature's flank, where dark scales meet bone armor in a natural seam.

I maintain contact for three full seconds, waiting for it to take hold.

Nothing happens.

My brow furrows at that setback, so I relocate to another section of its long body, placing the stamp against what appears to be a gap in its armored plating where softer tissue might be accessible.

Again, absolutely nothing.

I suppress a click of annoyance—even that small sound could prove fatal here—and attempt another location, only to achieve the same disappointing result. 

Fuck.

With each failed attempt, genuine concern begins to replace frustration. The stamp functioned perfectly on Brutus months ago, creating the bond that made him my loyal companion. 

Why is it failing now?

I’m following the instructions!

Although…

Then the realization strikes me with embarrassing clarity. When I stamped Brutus, I had targeted his underbelly—the most vulnerable area of his strange anatomy. The Company Stamp requires direct contact with actual skin or flesh, not the hardened exteriors. I've been attempting to stamp scales, hide, and armored bone plating.

The solution is obvious but exponentially more dangerous: I need to locate a truly vulnerable spot where the stamp can establish its connection.

In other words, I need to find the underbelly of a creature currently coiled like a massive, lethal spring. I retreat several steps to gain a better perspective, studying the Behemoth's sleeping form. Other vulnerable areas—the interior of its mouth or its eyes—represent nothing short of suicide to approach.

The old Grimm continues its restless slumber, coils shifting and twitching. Despite my mental defenses, the sheer magnitude of the threat before me makes it difficult to relax.

After long minutes of careful observation, I identify my opportunity. Where the creature has looped over itself, a small patch of lighter-colored scales becomes visible and that must be part of the underbelly, softer and more vulnerable than the dorsal armor. But reaching that spot will require approaching dangerously close to its head, where any disturbance could prove instantly fatal.

I draw a steadying breath and make my move.

If this succeeds, I'll command, or at least influence, a Behemoth capable of hunting others of its kind—and an advantage that could shift the balance of power on Menagerie and beyond. Although, I need to be used very carefully otherwise I could be labeled as the enemy of the world because I would be technically controlling Grimm.

If it fails... I refuse to contemplate what occurs when a forty-meter predator awakens to find an intruder violating the sanctity of its lair.

Circling with agonizing patience around the body, I finally locate my target that looks like a vulnerable spot.

The Company Stamp reaches forward, extending my arm until the device makes contact with the softer scales. The texture is different here—less rigid, more yielding beneath the pressure.

I press firmly and begin counting.

One second. The Behemoth's breathing remains steady, though I can feel the deep rumbles vibrating through my entire body like seismic tremors.

Two seconds. A slight muscular twitch sends adrenaline spiking through my system, but the Grimm settles back into slumber just as quickly.

Three seconds. I finally withdraw the stamp.

A notification materializes in my field of vision with a simple message that makes me let out a sigh of relief.

Dreadcoil T6 (71:59:21 hours remaining) +15 credits capture/+5 sell value

A surge of joy floods my entire being. Every instinct screams to leap up, to roar in victory, to celebrate this moment. The credit value alone—even with the penalty reduction—is still a significant increase.

But I force that emotion down. I'm still in mortal danger, still trapped in the lair of a predator that could kill me. Celebrating prematurely would be tantamount to failing at the final step before victory.

Dreadcoil. 

The name fits perfectly—a serpent that constricts and crushes its prey before consumption. The scattered bone fragments throughout the underground chamber serve as a grim testament to that hunting method. Though I find myself curious about what designation this creature might have carried before becoming Grimmified.

But I can speculate in another, and much safer place.

With a tight nod of satisfaction, I begin my retreat with the same meticulous caution that brought me to this point, backing away step by step. My gaze never wavers from the slumbering giant, every sense primed for the slightest indication that my presence has been detected.

The ascent proves significantly more challenging than the descent, which is to be expected. The steep angle forces me to utilize my cybernetic arm, punching and digging handholds into the hard surface to create anchor points for my climb. Each impact is carefully modulated—enough force to penetrate, but not enough to create excess noise that might echo down there or cause the whole thing to collapse on me.

Gradually, the absolute darkness gives way to filtered natural light seeping through the entrance above. When I see the exit, I launch myself upward to grasp the rim of the opening. Using a little more strength, I lift myself up and I emerge from the monster's lair into the humid daylight.

I slowly stand up and brush dirt from my clothes before taking off the face mask and finally allowing myself to release the tension I've carried for the past hour.

"YES!" The word explodes from my lips as pure, unrestrained triumph. I pump my fist skyward, letting the rush of victory wash over me completely after such a harrowing ordeal.

Three days to wait for the process to complete, but the stamp worked. That's all that matters now.

Then Pod descends from the sky, settling into a stable hover nearby.

"CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR SUCCESSFUL OPERATION, COMMANDER TAURUS. NO HOSTILE ENTITIES DETECTED DURING INFILTRATION PERIOD. PERIMETER SECURITY REMAINED INTACT THROUGHOUT MISSION DURATION."

"Excellent work, Pod." The grin refuses to leave my face. "Additional observations?"

"NEGATIVE. LOCAL WILDLIFE ACTIVITY REMAINED WITHIN ESTABLISHED PARAMETERS. NO ANOMALOUS SIGNATURES DETECTED. NO GRIMM PRESENCE. ATMOSPHERIC CONDITIONS MAINTAINED STABILITY."

"Perfect. Continue reconnaissance for additional Behemoth-class entities in this region. Alert me when you locate their lairs so we can plan another capture."

While the prospect of commanding multiple Behemoths appeals to me greatly, I must also consider broader ecological implications. My knowledge of Monster Hunter world dynamics indicates that apex predators serve crucial roles in maintaining natural balance. Removing too many Behemoths could potentially cause normal Grimm populations to surge beyond manageable levels—a scenario that would ultimately harm Menagerie more than help it.

"UNDERSTOOD, COMMANDER. MISSION PARAMETERS ACKNOWLEDGED."

"Thank you for the assistance, Pod."

With our exchange concluded, Pod ascends back into the canopy to continue his exploration while I scan the immediate area for the place where I open a portal. A massive tree trunk with a relatively flat section catches my attention.

Stepping through the portal, I emerge first into the entrance yard of my dimensional home before moving to another portal that leads to the familiar grounds outside our headquarters. I deliberately chose this route instead of the direct connection to my office. This isn’t a mistake but a deliberate choice as I find myself wanting a brief walk to decompress.

The path to my office takes me through the heart of our compound, past training areas where my people hone their combat skills and administrative buildings that keep up with the logistics and other paperwork that is important to keep things going. Those who notice my passage offer formal salutes, which I acknowledge with curt nods.

Navigating the familiar hallways and climbing the stairs to the upper levels, I finally reach my office door. I merely turn the handle since I had left it unlocked.

However, the sight that greets me brings me to an immediate halt.

Sienna Khan sits calmly in the chair across from my desk, a steaming cup cradled between her hands, suggesting she's been waiting for quite some time.

I wasn't expecting her visit—she hadn't mentioned any plans to come by today. That means something urgent has arisen, or at least significant enough to warrant a personal meeting rather than a simple message or call. I won't complain since I can trust her judgment.

The tiger woman's ears perk up attentively as she turns to see me enter, and she carefully places her cup on the desk before rising to greet me with a formal salute. Something unusually ceremonial given our typical interactions, but I find myself mildly amused by the sudden formality.

"That's unusually formal of you," I comment, raising an eyebrow as I close the door behind me. "What brings you here? We could have discussed matters at my home."

"There are some urgent matters I need to discuss with you and obtain your directives as soon as possible, so I simply waited for your return." She quickly answers .

"Why not send a message?"

Her ears twitch. "I didn't find it necessary."

"You forgot, didn't you?" I simply ask.

She lets out a resigned sigh, her posture softening as embarrassment creeps across her face. "...Yes."

Yep, I can absolutely see that happening.

But I won't be harsh with her. However, my thoughts pause when I take another look at her. The slight embarrassment softening her usually stern features makes her unexpectedly endearing, and I'm reminded about a few things that draw me in.

I still remember that supposedly professional boundary we established, but at this moment, I find myself caring very little about maintaining that stupid pretense. Acting out on my impulses, I step forward and gently pull her close, my left arm settling around her waist as I lean down to capture her lips in a kiss.

Her amber eyes widened at first, revealing her confusion flickering across her delicate features. She remains frozen for a moment before gradually melting into my arms. Her arms come up to around my neck, and to my approval, I feel the soft rumble of her purr resonating against my chest.

Absolutely adorable.

Yet she's the first to break away, turning her head aside and looking down at the floor between us.

"You... you shouldn't do that," she murmurs after a moment, her cheeks burning as her ears flatten against her head. "Not here in the office... I mean, this is supposed to be... we agreed to maintain professional boundaries..."

This is going to be a thing with her, isn’t it? Always trying to maintain that facade of strict professionalism even when her body betrays her words.

Unable to suppress my chuckle, I gently take hold of her chin and guide her face back toward mine, taking in the sight of her flushed cheeks and the way her eyes seem to shimmer. A fierce leader, reduced to an adorable kitten. I never expected Sienna Khan to reveal this side of her when we started this strange relationship, almost innocent side of herself, but I welcome it completely—never mocking or diminishing these precious moments when her walls come down.

I didn't expect to act so impulsively either. Perhaps it's the lingering rush of adrenaline and triumph from successfully capturing the Dreadcoil, that intoxicating high of achievement must be coursing through my system.

The reason matters less than the result, tho. 

I lean down for another short but tender kiss before pulling her closer, guiding her head to rest against the curve of my neck where she fits perfectly.

"Adam, we really shouldn't—" she starts with a weak protest, but her actions contradict her words as she nuzzles closer.

I just rest my chin on top of her in response.

My companion falls silent, that internal conflict vanishing as she lets out a sigh and allows herself to lean into me fully while I savor this moment.

I guide us both toward my personal chair—the large, comfortable piece of furniture that is perfect for long working hours. Settling into it, I bring her with me, putting her on my lap where she naturally reclines back against my chest.

In that perfect position it is inevitable that my hands find their way to her toned abdomen, fingers splaying gently across the fabric of her dress before feeling that smooth dark skin of hers, getting a coo of approval.

The knowledge that our child—perhaps children—growing inside there, fills me with profound wonder and an almost overwhelming sense of protectiveness. There's also that strange masculine pride I can't quite articulate beyond a primal satisfaction of 'I did that.'

How long before she starts showing visible signs? How long before the coalition members begin to notice the changes? The thought of her in wearing long, loose dresses fitting nicely with her rounded belly and lact-…

Okay, where does that come from?

With a shake of my head, I dismiss those weird thoughts.

Sienna shudders but doesn't pull away, her body relaxing further into mine as she clearly enjoys this sort of attention. Besides, I genuinely love being tall—it makes moments like this possible.

Almost without conscious thought, my mouth moves and gently nibbles at the tip of her ear, careful with the small rings.

Wait, when or why did I start doing that?

Although, Sienna isn't complaining. In fact, she lets out a small whine of protest when I stop, her ears twitching and flickering as if asking for more. So I continue, getting another sound of approval.

"This…" she murmurs halfheartedly, even as she tilts her head to give me better access.

We remain entwined like this for a while, wrapped in comfortable silence. Eventually, duty reasserts itself as she begins shifting restlessly on my lap.

"We should... we have important matters to discuss," she says reluctantly, though she makes no immediate move to separate from me at first.

I reluctantly allow her to disentangle herself from my arms.

She clears her throat loudly, attempting to restore some semblance of professionalism as she returns to her original seat across from my desk. The blush hasn't entirely faded from her cheeks, and I can see her struggling to shift back into her military commander persona.

"As I was trying to say before you... distracted me," she put a strong emphasis on those words. "There are a few matters we need to address. Specifically, the formalization of our security forces into a proper police organization as you have initially proposed."

She produces her scroll, unlocking it before sliding it across the desk toward me. The screen displays a series of uniform designs, hand-drawn showing attention to detail.

"After what you have told me, with some help we’ve developed these concepts," she explains, her tone gradually returning to its usual business-like cadence. "The designs prioritize practicality and taking in account Menagerie tropical environment while maintaining a professional appearance. However, I wanted your input before we continue with samples."

I pick up the device and take a good look at the potential uniform designs, noting the palette options of beige, green, and light blue. The colors are indeed fitting for Menagerie's tropical environment, and the clean, recognizable design would make our officers easily identifiable to the civilian population which is the main point for these uniforms. Also, they won’t die from heatstroke.

"Fantastic work, Sienna." I comment. “I like the colors you picked.” 

"Thank you."

"Anyway, I don't see any immediate changes needed, but I'd prefer to get a second opinion before making the final decision," I continue, setting the scroll aside. " Send them to me so I canl show these to Kali as well, since she has been dealing with most of the domestic affairs and her opinion could be useful. But in my honest opinion, I like the beige one."

"Thank you, that one was my idea. " She gives me a nod. "Should we start with sample making?”

"You can, but let's discuss the training for them. That's likely to be a challenge."

Sienna's expression grows more serious after hearing that. "The new training regimen itself won't be particularly difficult to implement since this is for the garrison forces that had already been dealing with the domestic security matters. But it might be a problem to formally implement the old system that Ghira has left us, I thought it would work at first but after careful consideration I found some problems as they are too broad and very open to interpretation. So we will have to spend some time first in defining and synthesizing the current laws they'll be enforcing, and frankly, neither of us has experience training police forces."

I can learn from the city developing volumes that I still haven’t finished reading them. But she has a point. 

"We'll need to acquire training manuals from the kingdom police departments for reference," I point out, and quickly raise a hand as I predict Sienna moving to protest that action. "Yes, I know. We'll need to be VERY selective about what we adopt. From what I understand and seen, each kingdom's police forces have their own systemic issues that we must avoid at all costs."

"Agreed. We want effective law enforcement, not the corruption and brutality that plagues some mainland departments," she responds grimly. "I suggest we focus on community policing principles—officers who serve and protect."

Rather peaceful of her.

We spend the next several minutes discussing more about this issue. The conversation flows naturally into trade security concerns, particularly our ongoing relationships with smuggler networks that help us bypass the economic sanctions and the expansion.

"Speaking of expanded operations," Sienna says, consulting her notes, "I'll be departing next week to inaugurate the new road connecting to Sandrift village."

"Don't forget to take an escort with you. That connection will significantly improve our ability to support the outer settlements and integrate them more fully into our growing network." The road project represents a crucial step in my long-term vision after all.

I should steal that name from my memories and call it Belt and Road initiative too. 

But that line of thought comes to a halt as a message notification comes into view. I was about to dismiss it, but froze when I saw who actually sent that message.

Ilia.

‘I'm waiting at the beach. You know where.’

My entire thought process grinds to a halt. Ilia hasn't contacted me over a week, after she ran away after I broke the news about me and Sienna.

"Adam?" Sienna's voice cuts through. "Is everything alright?"

I force myself to focus on her concerned expression, a slight worry creasing her brow. "I... there's something personal that cropped up."

Her ears twitch slightly, but she doesn't press. "I see. We can continue this tomorrow or another day."

"Yes. Just work on those samples for now." I get up from my chair and move towards the window. “See you later.”

Without waiting for a response, I push open the large window and step onto the ledge. The Solar Surfer materializes beneath my feet as I make a jump, getting a good hold as I depart toward the coastline. The base shrinks below me as I hit the accelerator.

After some time, when I see the shore I easily spot my childhood friend—a solitary figure walking slowly along the shore, hands clasped behind her back. 

I lower the surfer to the sand and hop off. The sound of my footsteps on the sand causes her to turn, and for a moment our eyes meet across the distance.

Then she turns away, looking back to the sea where its waves lap gently at the shore.

"I'm sorry," she says quietly, her voice barely audible above the rhythmic crash of waves against the shore. "For how I've acted these past weeks. For avoiding you, for making you worry, for creating unnecessary drama when you're already burdened with so many responsibilities."

I close the remaining distance between us, stopping just a few feet away to give her space while remaining close enough to hear her clearly over the ocean's constant murmur. "Ilia, you don't need to apologize for anything. I understand where you are coming from."

She remains silent for a long moment, her shoulders rising and falling with a deep, shuddering breath, what I assume is she gathering her confidence.

"Do you remember when we first met?" she asks suddenly, her voice taking on a wistful quality. "When Blake brought you to the backyard so all three of us could play together? You were so serious even then, always trying to protect everyone around you."

A faint smile tugs at my lips despite the current situation. "You challenged me to a race to climb a tree behind the house. Blake said it was impossible to climb, but you were determined to prove her wrong."

"And you followed me up anyway, even though you were terrified of heights back then," she continues, and I can hear the ghost of a smile in her voice. "You didn't want me to climb alone."

"I thought... I thought those moments would last forever," she says, her voice growing heavy. "Even as we grew up and began training together, joining the cause and fighting for our ideals, a shared dream. I believed everything would remain the same. We'd stay together—like a real family. Even when there were setbacks, even when things got difficult, we kept moving forward… together."

Her hands begin to tremble visibly, and I resist the urge to reach out to her.

"Years passed, and then one day you and Blake announced your relationship. Everyone gave you their blessings, celebrated the union of two people who clearly belonged together." She takes a shaky breath. "I was genuinely happy for you both. It made perfect sense—anyone could see how much you cared for each other. I told myself things would continue as they always had, just with a new dynamic."

She pauses for a moment, hugging herself.

"But that's not what happened, was it?" she whispers, finally turning around to face me fully.

The sight of tears streaming down her face. Her skin shows patches of blue and green, she is no longer able to control her emotions.

"What was supposed to be a moment of progress and hope for our people was destroyed by those cursed human terrorists," she continues, her voice starting to break. "So many died that day—our friends, our allies. And you... you were hurt so badly that day."

The memory of that day remains frustratingly fragmented for me—flashes of combat,  screaming, shouting as I was in a desperate the desperate struggle against the suicide bomber, then nothing but pain as the explosion went off.

"I still remember the chaos afterward," Ilia continues, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. "People screaming, shouting orders, trying to coordinate rescue efforts. Blake and Kali were inconsolable, crying over you while the medics fought to keep you alive. Even Ghira was struggling to maintain his composure while trying to take control of the situation."

She takes another shuddering breath before continuing. "When you were so close to dying, when we thought we might lose you forever... I think that's when I finally understood how much you meant to me. More than just a childhood friend, more than just a comrade-in-arms. But I buried those feelings deep down because I didn't want to complicate things. We still had our mission, our cause to fight for. You still had her, who stayed by your side. I watched you struggle through recovery, saw you push forward despite everything you'd lost, and I told myself it was enough just to be there for you."

Her voice grows bitter. "And how did that work out for any of us?"

I know exactly what period she's referring to—the dark months after father's death when everything began to go to shit.

"Everything changed for the worse after we lost Ghira," she says, echoing my thoughts. "I kept telling myself that if we could just hold things together, if we could maintain some semblance of unity, it would be enough. We were still part of something important, something worth fighting for."

Her fists clench at her sides. "Kali isolated herself. Sienna tried to take control. We were besieged from all fronts. And then you and Blake started arguing—constantly shouting at each other, creating rifts I couldn't bridge no matter how hard I tried. I watched our family tear itself apart, how more conflict formed in our ranks and I was completely powerless to stop it. It was heartbreaking."

I feel a stab of regret, I now know that it was the start of cyberpsychosis clouding my rationale, but I won’t even dare to use that as an excuse to free myself from responsibility.

"And then came that cursed train operation," she continues, her voice dropping to barely above a whisper. "When we heard it had derailed, that everyone aboard had died... I was completely destroyed, Adam. Utterly broken. I couldn't even get up from my bed and watch how everyone left. I just lay there, thinking about all the things I should have said, all the things I should have done. The 'what ifs' nearly drove me insane."

She lets out a hollow laugh. "But you didn't die. Neither did Blake, though she was responsible for what happened. You came back stronger than ever, taking charge and leading us out of this mess. You reignited everything we'd once fought for and gave hope back to those who'd lost it completely. Your rebirth, I suppose you could call it."

The laugh turns increasingly bitter, as the spots on her skin turn blue. "So I selfishly thought it was only a matter of time before you'd finally notice me. Really notice me, not just as your friend or a comrade-in-arms. I know it sounds pathetic, but that's what I was hoping for, what I was expecting for how things were going. And then you called that meeting just to announce that Sienna Khan was pregnant with your child."

Seeing her anguish now, after the affectionate moment I shared with Sienna earlier, makes me feel like an absolute piece of shit.

"Ilia, I—"

"I know, Adam," she interrupts, shaking her head firmly. "I understand why you did it. I’m not naive to not understand political moves, how it consolidates power and fortifies the coalition. I know it's meant to prevent another collapse like the one that nearly destroyed us. But understanding the logic doesn't change how it felt to hear about it after the fact, like it would just be another piece of news."

Her grey eyes lock onto mine before they take a red shade. "Why didn't you tell me beforehand? At least mention your intentions, give me some warning?"

I run a hand through my hair, searching for words that don't sound like empty justifications. "You're absolutely right—I should have spoken with you first, at least explained my reasoning. You deserved that much consideration and more."

I take a cautious step closer, noting how her skin shifts to blue and red.

"I did consider approaching you about it, when Sienna brought the idea. She even suggested picking Kali for this." I admit honestly, which causes her to gasp. "But I didn't want to put you in an impossible position, force you into a situation where you couldn't refuse. I didn't want you to feel like you were just a convenient tool for political maneuvering."

Another step closer, and I can see the conflict playing out across her face.

"You've never been just a convenience to me, Ilia. You're special—more important to me than I think you realize. But I was afraid... afraid that if I asked you, you'd agree out of loyalty, forcing yourself and lying to yourself. I couldn't bear the thought of you sacrificing yourself for duty when you deserve so much more than that."

Her breath catches, and for a moment, the deep blues fade from her skin, replaced by soft pink hues.

"I... I probably would have accepted," she admits. And that's when her skin shifts dramatically to stark white streaked with yellow. "Oh gods, I would have accepted... that's completely fucked up, Adam."

The raw honesty in her admission hits me harder than any accusation could have. She's right—it is fucked up, the entire situation we've found ourselves in.

"That's exactly what I was afraid of," I say quietly. "I knew you'd say yes, not because you truly wanted it, but because you didn’t want to disappoint me. Because you'd sacrifice your own happiness for what you perceived as my needs."

Her skin continues shifting through a kaleidoscope of emotions—flashes of red anger mixing with the white shock, streaks of blue and green sadness threading through it all.

"But maybe..." she starts, then stops, wrapping her arms around herself as if trying to hold together pieces that are threatening to fall apart. "Maybe I would have said yes for the right reasons too. Maybe part of me wanted you to ask, wanted to be the one you chose for something this important."

"Ilia..." I begin, but she holds up a hand to stop me.

"No, let me finish this. I need to get it all out or I'll never have the courage again." Her skin settles into her normal color. "I've been lying to myself for years, Adam. Telling myself I was content being your friend, that it was enough just to be at your side."

She pauses looking away for a moment as she takes another deep breath. "But the truth is, I think I have feelings for you. but I was trying to fool myself that I was merely confused or hormonal, and everything was just being friendly. Yet when I heard about Sienna, when I realized that someone else would be carrying your child, it really hurt. It really hurt me, Adam."

"That's not why I didn't approach you," I say, my voice rougher than intended. The need to make her understand drives me forward. "It wasn't about you not being enough, Ilia. It was about you being too important."

"I don't understand."

I run a hand through my hair, once more trying to find the right words. "If I had come to you about this arrangement, you would have said yes. Not because it was what you wanted, but because it was what I needed. And then for the rest of our lives, you would have wondered if you were just my second choice, my backup plan."

Her skin goes completely white as the implication finally hits her.

"The thought of you ever believing that about yourself, about us—it was unbearable," I continue, my voice growing more intense. "You deserve to be someone's first choice. Not a political convenience or a strategic alliance. The idea that you might spend years thinking you were somehow lesser, that I settled for you... it would have been an insult to everything you are."

More tears begin falling as she tries to wipe them.

"S-So instead you chose someone else entirely," she deadpans.

"I chose the option that wouldn't make you question your worth," I say firmly. "Because you are worth everything, Ilia. You always have been."

Her breathing becomes shallow as she processes my words, her color returning to that soft pink.

"And what about now?" she asks quietly. "What about what you feel for me now?"

The question cuts straight to the heart of everything I've been trying to understand about my own feelings. I step closer, close enough to hold her close to me and watch her.

I gather the courage to say the most important words to another.

"I love you, Ilia."

The words come out quieter than I intended, but they are still strong enough. Her skin immediately flushes to a strong shade of pink—a vibrant, unmistakable blush that spreads across her face.

"I—you—what?" she stammers, the pink deepening to an almost magenta as embarrassment overwhelms her. She covers her face with her hands, but the color change is impossible to hide. "You can't just say things like that!"

Despite everything we've been through, despite the heavy conversation we've been having, I can't help but find her reaction endearing. This is the Ilia I remember from our childhood—the one who would turn bright colors when caught off guard, who wore her heart on her sleeve through her very skin.

"I mean it," I say gently, reaching out to carefully pull her hands away from her face. "I love your gentle heart. I love how you challenge me when I'm being stubborn and how you believe in me even when I don't believe in myself. I love the way your skin changes colors with your emotions. I love how you fight, how you talk. How you-"

"Stop okay!" she shouts, although no malice in her tone. "D-don’t make this awkward. But if we're doing this, if we're being completely honest..." She looks directly into my eyes. "I love you too, Adam. I love you so much it terrifies me sometimes. I love your strength and your conviction, the way you never give up even when everything seems hopeless. I love how you care for our people, how you've rebuilt everything from ashes and made it stronger than before."

Her skin returns to normal tone. "I love the way you listen when I talk, like my thoughts actually matter. I love how safe I feel when you're near, and how you make me want to be better than I am. I've loved you through Blake, through the attacks, through the collapse and the rebuilding, through everything. And I'll keep loving you even if this conversation is all we ever have."

The raw honesty in her declaration takes my breath away. Here she is, laying her heart completely bare, offering everything she has without expecting anything in return.

"It doesn't have to be all we have," I say softly, moving closer until I can feel the warmth radiating from her skin. "The situation with Sienna Khan is complicated, yes, but that doesn't mean there's no room for us to explore what this could be or where it would lead us."

She searches my face, looking for any sign of false hope or cruel deception.

"Adam…”

“That’s enough…" I reply, my thumb brushing away a fresh tear from her cheek.

The space between us seems to diminish on its own, drawn together by years of unspoken feelings finally given voice. When I lean down, she rises up to meet me halfway with closed eyes.

Our lips meet in a simple but long kiss. It's gentle at first, tentative but then her arms come up to wrap around my neck, and I pull her closer, deepening the connection between us.

When we finally part, both breathing heavily, she rests her forehead against mine.

"Whatever happens next, no regrets anymore."

"No regrets.”

...

...

...

Love confession capture complete

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AN: Yes, I know that Tiger biologically cannot purr, but let's write it down as the universal calibration shenanigans, meaning… Kali can also purr. Take that as you will.

I wanted to close this relationship between childhood friends.

Also, I’m currently sick so a few things got complicated in writing taking it longer than it should.