Ethan Knox - December 2120
"You do know you're allowed a break, right?" I ask, watching Kai drag a towel through his damp black hair.
I sit on the edge of the bed, my foot tapping restlessly against the floor.
I'm still not happy about the training.
He should be recovering, or at least sleeping in for once instead of waking before sunrise to throw himself back into sparring like his body isn't still trying to stitch itself back together.
But Kai had looked at me with that quiet, pleading sort of honesty he almost never lets anyone see.
I need this.
Not because he enjoys it. Not because he's reckless. Because training makes him feel like himself again and I understood that immediately. That's the problem with loving someone deeply.
"I know" Kai says softly.
He tosses the towel onto the chair before walking over to me.
Even tired, he moves with that same controlled grace, like every motion is deliberate. His hand slips into mine naturally, fingers warm against my skin.
"I woke up early and saw Finn downstairs," he says. "Thought we could get a quick round in before everyone else woke up."
"A quick round," I repeat flatly. "You say that every time. Last week your 'quick round' turned into you sparring for hours"
Kai's mouth twitches.
"That only happened once."
"Six times."
"That feels exaggerated."
"It literally isn't."
His quiet laugh curls through the room, soft and rough from training, and despite myself my irritation loosens a little.
Kai lifts my hand and presses a kiss against my knuckles. He knows exactly what he's doing.
"You're trying to distract me again" I accuse.
"I would never."
"You're a terrible liar."
His eyes flick up to mine then, dark and warm and far too knowing.
"Maybe" he murmurs before kissing my palm.
The touch sends a shiver up my arm instantly.
"Kai-" I breathe.
There's a small smile on his face now. It's tiny, almost hidden... But I see it.
Sometimes I think people mistake Kai's silence for emotional distance, when really he just speaks in smaller ways. Leaning into my touch. Staying close when nightmares wake him. Always asking if I have eaten yet.
I brush my fingers through his damp hair and he closes his eyes for half a second, leaning into the touch before he can stop himself. That tiny movement punches straight through my chest.
"You're sneaky," I say, softer now. "You know that, right?"
"I don't know what you mean."
"Sure you don't. You're lucky you're pretty," I mumble.
That earns a real smile from him this time. Then he leans forward and kisses me. I wrap an arm around his neck automatically, pulling him closer as his lips move against mine, warm, familiar and grounding in a way nothing else ever is.
He rises smoothly, guiding me backwards onto the bed. A surprised laugh escapes me before it disappears beneath another kiss.
His hand slides around my waist, steady and careful, like even now he's making sure I'm alright first. His knee settles between my legs and I melt into the warmth of him instinctively, fingers slipping into his hair as the kiss deepens.
Kai's tongue slides past my lips with a slow, deliberate heat that makes my breath hitch. The gentle touch on my cheek shifts as his fingers tangle into my hair, tilting my head back to claim more space, more depth. Every reservation I had about his training, dissolves into the sheer intensity of his focus on me.
His weight shifts, pressing me firmer against the mattress. The friction of his jeans against my legs sends a sudden, sharp jolt of electricity straight down my spine.
I let out a soft moan against his mouth, a sound that only seems to fuel him. Kai groans, a low vibration that rumbles from his chest into mine, and his hands leave my hair to slide down my neck, mapping the line of my collarbone before gripping my shoulder.
He breaks the kiss, but only to trail his lips down my jawline, his breath hot against my sensitive skin. He finds the pulse point at my throat, nipping lightly before soothing it with his tongue. My hands grip his biceps, feeling the hard, coiled tension of his muscles as I arch into his touch.
"Kai-" I gasp again, my fingers digging into his shoulders.
He pauses, burying his face in the crook of my neck for a second, his chest heaving as he fights for control. When he lifts his head, his dark eyes are entirely black in the dim light of the room, blown out with desire.
"Tell me to stop" he whispers, his voice incredibly rough, his thumb sweeping across my bottom lip, which is swollen from his kisses. "Tell me now, because otherwise, I'm not going to."
Instead of answering with words, I hook my leg around his hip, pulling him flush against me, and bring his lips back down to mine.
_________________________
"I didn't think you'd want to go two more rounds" I say, leaning into Kai as we weave through the corridor towards the canteen. My legs feel shaky as we walk.
Kai's arm slips around my shoulders almost automatically, steadying me. He presses a kiss to the top of my head like it's the most natural thing in the world.
"Sorry" he says.
"No, you're not" I mumble immediately, nudging him with my elbow.
A faint huff of amusement leaves him. "I did say to tell me to stop." He leans in slightly, voice dropping just for me. "in fact you begged for more"
I turn my head to glare at him, but I'm too tired to make it convincing. His face is still faintly flushed and hair slightly messy in that way that makes him look unfairly composed even when he's clearly been overdoing it.
I reach up and lightly stroke his cheek anyway.
"That's not fair" I say.
His smile softens at the touch, like it always does when I forget to stay annoyed at him for more than five seconds.
We reach the canteen doors, and the noise hits first, warm, chaotic, alive. A mix of laughter, overlapping conversations, and the excited energy of kids talking about gifts they swear they saw under trees that definitely didn't exist a few hours ago.
Kai keeps his arm around me as we move through the crowd. I let him steer me because honestly, if I let go right now I might just collapse into the floor and become part of the furniture.
Finn spots us first and lifts a hand in greeting from our usual table.
"Look who finally decided to show up," he says, grinning.
Noah is already there. Which immediately feels wrong in a way I can't quite explain at first.
He's usually in the lab. Or a lab-adjacent state of existence. But today he's sitting upright at the table, notebook open, pen moving in quick, precise lines across the page like his thoughts refuse to slow down long enough to stay inside his head.
Finn nudges him lightly. "Who would've thought Noah would get here before you two?"
Noah doesn't look up immediately. Just keeps writing. Kai and I exchange a glance as we slide into our seats.
"Sorry," I say, rubbing the back of my neck. "Lost track of time."
Finn's grin sharpens. "Bet you did."
Kai coughs loudly. Finn looks far too pleased with himself. Kai immediately pretends he didn't hear that and turns to Noah instead.
"I half expected to have to drag you out of the lab."
Noah finally pauses his writing and closes the notebook halfway.
"I made a promise to Finn," he says simply. "And I finished what I needed to."
That alone makes something in my chest tighten slightly. Noah never says finished unless he actually means it.
Kai tilts his head. "What were you working on now?"
There's a small shift in the air then. Noah reaches down beside his chair, pulls his bag up onto the table, and sets it down with a quiet, heavy thump that doesn't match its size.
Even Finn leans forward slightly, while Noah unzips it.
Inside, carefully nested like it belongs there more than anything else in the world, is a small circular object. It's metallic, smooth and about the size of his palm. It emits a faint blue glow that pulses in a slow, almost breathing rhythm.
The canteen noise feels like it drops a few degrees around us.
"What is that?" I ask before I can stop myself. My hand moves towards it instinctively, curiosity pulling me forward.
"A seed," Noah says.
My fingers freeze mid-air. Kai's posture changes instantly beside me. Finn stops smiling entirely. Even the background noise feels like it dulls.
"A… seed?" I repeat, slower this time, like saying it again might make it make sense.
Noah nods once.
Kai leans forward. "What does that mean?"
Noah looks at us properly now, as if deciding how much translation we're allowed.
"It is designed to integrate into GeneX's grid as a passive optimisation layer," he says. "It will be classified internally as efficiency augmentation."
I blink at him.
Kai immediately sighs through his nose. "Noah."
Noah pauses. "…Yes."
"English."
A flicker of impatience crosses his expression, but he adjusts.
"GeneX relies on distributed internal negotiation," he continues, a bit slower. "Power, security, climate control, research systems. Each subsystem resolves conflict through consensus-based processing."
I frowns. "That still sounds like you're talking about a spaceship."
"No," Noah says. "I am talking about a highly advanced autonomous facility."
Kai studies the object carefully. "And you put that into their system?"
"If activated at the central interface node," Noah says, "it will propagate across GeneX's entire infrastructure network."
My stomach tightens.
"Propagate?" I repeat quietly.
Noah taps the notebook again and turns it towards us.
On the page is a diagram, layered systems, branching networks, loops folding into loops like a city made of logic. And now, superimposed over it, faint lines spreading outward from a single point.
"This is the Seed acting as a support architecture," Noah explains. "When introduced, GeneX will interpret it as a fallback coordination layer."
Kai's voice drops. "Meaning what, exactly?"
Noah's gaze stays on the diagram.
"It will begin routing unresolved system decisions through it," he says. "Security queries, power distribution conflicts, infrastructure balancing…"
He pauses.
"Everything uncertain."
Finn leans closer. "So it becomes a backup brain."
"No," Noah corrects immediately. "It becomes the preferred resolution pathway."
Silence settles again. Even I stop moving.
Noah continues, unfazed.
"Once dependency is established, the Seed will initiate authority consolidation. Conflicting system responses will be resolved by standardising output through a single logic framework."
Kai exhales sharply. "That sounds like corruption."
"It is structural redefinition" Noah replies.
I swallow.
"So basically…" Finn says slowly, eyes still on the diagram, "it takes over the system."
"In simpler terms," Noah agrees.
Kai runs a hand through his hair. "And then what happens?"
Noah's answer comes too easily.
"The system ceases distributed function." A pause. "And collapses."
The words sit there for a moment like they don't belong in a canteen full of Christmas noise and plastic trays and laughing kids.
I look down at the glowing Seed again. It doesn't look violent. It doesn't look like anything at all, really and that somehow makes it worse.
"So it will destroy all of GeneX system?" Finn says quietly, leaning back now.
Noah tilts his head slightly, as if considering whether that phrasing is accurate enough.
"In functional terms," he says, "yes."
Kai stares at him for a long moment, then at the Seed and then back at Noah.
"So this Seed can take down all of GeneX?" Kai asks, leaning forward slightly as he stares at Noah with a mix of disbelief and proudness, like he's trying to decide whether this is genius or a disaster waiting to happen.
Noah lifts his coffee without urgency and takes a calm sip as if they are discussing something far less consequential than corporate collapse, then answers simply, "Well, its internal structure."
A small smile tugs at my mouth despite everything, because if Noah is right then this isn't just a plan, it's a real opening, a crack in something that has felt unbreakable for so long that I've almost forgotten what possibility feels like.
"That's unbelievable," I say quietly, eyes dropping to the bag where the small glowing object sits like it belongs there more than anything else in the world, which is exactly what makes it so unsettling.
Finn leans forward, elbows now on the table as he slips fully into strategy mode. "So all we'd have to do is infiltrate GeneX, connect the Seed to their core system, and let it do the rest?"
Noah nods once. "Yes."
"That's it?"
"No," Noah adds without hesitation, "avoiding immediate death during infiltration would also be necessary."
Finn exhales sharply. "Right... Of course. Very comforting."
Kai shakes his head faintly but there is the smallest hint of amusement at the edge of his expression, like even he can't fully stay tense in the face of how calmly Noah dismantles reality.
For a moment, none of us speak, the weight of what he has just described settling between us while the canteen noise continues around us in soft, normal waves of laughter and cutlery and chatter that feels almost unreal compared to what we are holding in our hands.
Noah closes his notebook with careful precision and slides it back into his bag, then lowers it to the floor as if storing away something ordinary rather than a system-ending concept, and that quiet normality somehow makes it worse.
We sit in silence just long enough for the idea to fully land. Then a voice cuts through from beside the table.
"Merry Christmas and all that."
I look up to see Monica and Gerald standing there, Monica giving a small wave that feels slightly distracted, while Gerald's expression is composed in a way that suggests he is not here for casual conversation.
The shift in atmosphere is immediate, subtle but undeniable, like a door has quietly closed somewhere behind us.
"Oh. Merry Christmas," I say automatically, though my mind is still tangled in Noah's explanation and the shape of what he has built.
Monica's attention moves past me and settles on Kai. "Kai," she says, more carefully now, "can we talk a moment?"
Kai turns to look at her and something unspoken passes between them, something I can't quite read but still feel in the way his posture tightens and his expression shifts into something more guarded.
Finn notices too, his joking energy fading slightly as he watches them.
Kai stands slowly, the scrape of his chair sounding louder than it should in the busy room. As he steps away, he briefly places a hand on my back, a small grounding touch that lingers just long enough for me to notice.
"I won't be long" he says.
"Okay" I reply, forcing my tone to stay steady even though something uncomfortable is already beginning to settle in my stomach.
I watch him walk away with Monica and Gerald weaving through the crowded canteen, their conversation already low and serious before they even reach the doors.
Around me the room continues as normal, kids laughing, chairs scraping, voices overlapping in warm chaos, but it all feels slightly out of reach now, like I'm sitting just outside the moment instead of inside it.
Finn watches them go too, quieter than before, while Noah simply sits back, unreadable and still, his attention no longer on the Seed but on the direction Kai just disappeared in.
And I can't explain why, but something about that conversation feels wrong in a way I can't name, like a thread has just been pulled loose somewhere I can't see, and I'm suddenly very aware that Kai didn't just leave the table.
He left into something I wasn't meant to hear.