I blinked against the bright, sterile light overhead.

The I cried out, a small, broken sound lost in the rising roar of the storm. Darkness crept in at the edges of my vision, and the last thing I heard was the ship screaming under the force of the storm.

Pain. It wasn't just a sensation—it was everything. It wrapped around me like iron chains, sinking into every nerve, twisting, pulling, refusing to let go. Cold metal pressed against my cheek, but it might as well have been ice. My body felt distant, foreign, like I was slipping away from it, piece by piece.

I tried to breathe, but it came out as a ragged, broken gasp.

"Help..." I croaked, my voice barely a whisper.

Panic clawed its way up my chest. Was there even anyone left to hear me? Had they all locked themselves away, safe behind secured walls while I lay here, waiting for the ship to tear apart?

My breathing grew uneven, too fast, too shallow. My fingers curled into fists against the floor, nails digging into my palms as if the pain could ground me.

No.

I didn't want to die here.

Not like this.

Not alone.

Tears burned hot trails down my face, unnoticed, unimportant.

Please, someone... anyone...

The lights flickered, casting long, dancing shadows that made the already disorienting corridor feel like a nightmare.

I don't know how long I lay there, half-conscious. The ship groaned and shuddered around me, the emergency lights strobing like a frantic heartbeat and then everything came to stand still and silent.

Then—a shadow.

A figure loomed over me, a presence that shattered the darkness. Large, imposing, radiating an energy so sharp it sent a jolt through my failing consciousness.

A deep voice, a command wrapped in steel—low, resonant, otherworldly

"You are in a dangerous position, human."

Not a question. A statement.

I wanted to move, to speak, but my lips wouldn't obey.

Am I dying? A strange, delirious thought echoed in my mind. Is this the god of death?

A boot nudged at my side a sharp, unwelcome intrusion. I rolled onto my back, my vision swimming. Is this it? Is this how it ends?

I forced my eyes open, my breath hitching as I took in the figure above m.

He was close—so close, I could see the intricate patterns etched into his skin, the sharp angles of his jaw. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think. All I could do was stare into his eyes.

His eyes were unlike anything I had ever seen—liquid gold, molten and alive, shifting like sunlight rippling over a sea of amber. They glowed faintly, catching even the dimmest light and turning it into something ethereal, something otherworldly. It was as if they held galaxies within them, swirling with flecks of copper and deep honey, burning with an intensity that felt almost sentient.

Every Zypherian had unique eyes—shades of sapphire, emerald, or stormy silver—but none had his. No other Zypherian bore the mark of molten gold. His eyes were a contradiction, terrifying in their brilliance yet hypnotic in their beauty, as if the universe had poured all its dying stars into them, leaving behind only fire and mystery.

And those eyes... those inhuman eyes... were watching me.

He reached out, his clawed hand moving—hovering above me for a fraction of a second—before a single sharp talon brushed a stray strand of hair from my forehead.

"You are compromised," he stated, detached, as if assessing a malfunctioning piece of equipment rather than a person.

I knew that face.

Everyone did.

Admiral Kriudra.

My blood turned to ice.

Something inside me twisted—a tangled mess of relief and terror. I wasn't alone anymore. But being found by him ... was this better or worse?

Zypherians didn't care about human workers. They didn't stop for people like me.

So why was he here?

My body locked up instinctively, every muscle screaming at me to shrink away.

Had I done something wrong? Had I broken some rule without realizing? The Zypherians had no tolerance for weakness, no patience for inefficiency. My mind raced, sifting through every interaction, every mistake.

What had I done?

A sharp memory flashed in my mind—Dhruv's face, his wide, pleading eyes before before he fed him to the Lamia.

Oh, god.

Was that why he was here? Would he feed me to Lamia like he had done to Dhruv? The thought made bile rise in my throat, panic surging through me like wildfire.

No. No, no, no—I couldn't—

I sucked in a shaky breath. "No..." I whispered, my voice cracking under the weight of my fear. "Please..."

His golden eyes bore into me, unreadable, merciless.

Then, before I could flinch away—before I could even understand—Firm. Unyielding. Cold fingers brushing against my burning skin.

And then—I was lifted. I vaguely registered the rough fabric of his uniform, the scent of something metallic and faintly spicy.

My body tensed involuntarily, my muscles screaming in exhausted resistance. My hands weakly grasped at the fabric of his coat, as if I could push away, as if I had any say in what happened next.

Terror pooled in my stomach, hot and suffocating. A choked sound slipped past my lips, half a protest, half a whimper.

I was barely conscious, my head lolling against his chest as he moved.

I forced my lips to part, my voice hoarse, barely more than a rasp.

"Where... are you taking me?"

"Somewhere so you will not die in the corridor like discarded waste" He carried me, his grip too firm, too rough almost brushing but I was too weak to protest.

huh?

For a moment, confusion flickered through me. This wasn't about punishment. He wasn't dragging me to the walls to be devoured or tossing me into the void like trash.

I was being... saved.

The realization hit me like a wave crashing against stone. My breath shuddered out of me, and something hot and humiliating burned at the edges of my vision.

He was helping me.

He didn't have to do this.

But he was.

I squeezed my eyes shut, my fingers trembling as they curled into the fabric of his coat. Not to push away. Just to hold on.

I hated that my body reacted before my mind could argue. That I clung to the smallest mercy, desperate for something solid after the storm.

A choked breath escaped me, unsteady and raw.

"Cease your... whimpering," his deep voice rumbled, the sound strangely comforting despite its inherent authority, laced with a hint of....Annoyance? Resignation?

As he carried me through the ship, the walls seemed to respond to him, parting new walls and shifting seamlessly.

"The ship... it listens to you," I observed, trying to distract myself from the passing out.

He didn't respond immediately. Instead, he carried me through the dim corridors, his steps measured, controlled.

I felt the low hum of the engines reverberate through his hold, his body a solid, steady anchor against the chaos surrounding us.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, "It is...attuned to my commands," he replied, his breath warm against my skin.

His grip on me shifted slightly, his claws tracing a path down my arm, not quite touching, but enough that I felt the ghost of his touch.

A shiver ran through me, though I wasn't sure if it was from fever or something else entirely.

I tried to process his words, but my mind was slipping, unraveling at the edges.

The world swam in and out of focus. I heard snippets of conversation, urgent voices speaking in the alien tongue. Then, mercifully, darkness claimed me.

sharply in the left shoulder, a relentless ache pounding through the skull as if something had caved in.

I shifted slightly, a hiss escaping my lips as pain lanced through my shoulder.

"You are awake." every muscle of my body froze.

The voice was deep, smooth-dangerous in the way silk could hide steel.

Turning my head slowly, I saw him.

His gaze dissected me, cold and clinical.

A shiver ran through me, but I fought to keep my expression neutral.

The Zypherian standing at the foot of my bed was not like the others.

Larger. Harsher. Colder. Cloaked in dominance and authority.

His molten eyes burned with an intensity that made my stomach twist.

The insignias on his uniform gleamed under the artificial light. The black fabric stretched taut over powerful shoulders, the gold embellishments marking him as a predator among his kind.

Admiral Kriudra.

A force of nature in the hierarchy of the Zypherians.

The force of him, of his mere presence, pressed down on the room, shrinking the space between us without him even moving.

And he was staring at me. My throat dried to dust.

I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe

This was bad. Very very bad.

Actually this is a problem.

A dangerous, terrifying problem.

Why—why did I have to end up in the med bay when he was here? Of all the Zypherians on this damn warship, why him? I still get nightmare of the way he said shoo to me.

God-what is he doing here?

Was he sick? Injured? Had he come for a routine check-up?

No. No, this was wrong. This man did not look sick. He didn't look like someone who bled. If anything, he looked like he made others bleed.

Or-was he lost?

The idea was absurd. Admirals do not get lost. Admirals make people get lost.

And yet, he stood there, watching.

I forced myself upright, gritting my teeth through the pain. "Sir-Admiral-what are you doing here?" My voice came out hoarse, cracking like ice breaking under pressure.

Silence stretched between us, thick, suffocating. His stare did not waver.

I had seen a lion look at a deer like this once-right before it tore her apart. I had always wondered what the deer might have felt in that final moment.

Now I knew.

"Are you lost?" I managed to ask again, my words brittle, a desperate attempt to break the suffocating fear that was making me feel dizzy.

A muscle in his jaw flexed, but his expression remained unreadable.

Before he could answer, the door hissed open. A nurse strode in, and the atmosphere in the room seemed to warp, the tension curling around her like an unseen force. She slowed mid-step, her posture stiffening as her gaze landed on Kriudra.

She hesitated.

Then, carefully—too carefully—she inclined her head toward him. “Admiral,” she said, her voice measured, respectful. “May I proceed?”

A slow beat of silence passed.

His gaze flicked to her, unblinking, unreadable. Then, with the barest tilt of his head, he granted permission.

Only then did she move closer to my bed.

“You shouldn’t be sitting up,” she scolded, though her tone lacked real reprimand. “You need rest.”

She adjusted a setting on the monitor, her fingers precise but hesitant, as if aware that any misstep could draw his attention. She never looked at him directly.

I barely heard her. My eyes stayed locked on him.“How did I get here?” I asked, voice quite, as if I was afraid of the answer.

The nurse hesitated. I saw it—the flicker of uncertainty before she answered.

“You were found in the corridor during the storm.” A pause. Her voice dropped, quieter, careful. “The Admiral brought you in.”

Brought me in.

The words felt heavier than they should have.

As she turned to leave, her eyes met mine. An unspoken warning passed between us, sharp and urgent. A silent message etched into the tension of her gaze: Be careful.

She hesitated as she stepped past him. Not a glance. Not a breath out of place. But her shoulders tensed, her movements too controlled. An instinctive recoil from something—someone—too dangerous to ignore.

The door slid shut behind her.

And I was alone with him again.

Silence pressed against my ribs.

I looked back at him. "Did you save me?" The question slipped out before I could stop it, softer than I intended, but with more weight than I cared to admit.

No response. No confirmation. Just that unwavering, unreadable gaze.

"Save?" he repeated, as if tasting the word. Then, with detached precision- "I ensured your continued function. That is all."

I exhaled slowly, the tension in my chest pressing harder. "That sounds a lot like saving." My voice barely carried the distance between us. Then, softer, unsure- "Thank you, Admiral."

Then, his head tilted just slightly, a motion so small it was almost imperceptible. Almost.

"You were retrieved from the corridors during the storm," he said, his tone clinical. "You failed to reach your designated quarters in time. Explain."

I stiffened. "I-" My voice cracked, too dry, too weak. "I was sick. I tried to get back, but-"

He raised a hand, silencing me with a single, effortless motion, "Tried and failed," he said, stepping closer. "A concerning inefficient pattern."

I bristled. "Inefficient?..... pattern?"

Something in me curled tight.

Something about the way he spoke—so dismissive, so calculated—lit a spark of frustration in my chest.

I cannot kill him. I should let it go. Calm. Stay calm. Don't get yourself killed

I exhaled, trying to rein in my frustration. "You have a strange way of comforting people."

"It is not my duty to comfort you."

Bastard.

It’s not like I was expecting it from you. I bit my tongue, swallowing the urge to snap back, knowing full well that mouthing off to an Admiral could end with me floating in deep space.

"Fragile things don't last long here," his voice devoid of any sympathy, the words clipped and precise, each one a tiny icicle piercing my fragile composure.

My hands clenched into fists at my sides, the nails digging into my palms.

"Well, fuck you too," I muttered under my breath, too low for him to catch—at least, I hoped. Usually I am not this brave but I blame it on the medicine they are pumping in my body.

He tilted his head, a subtle movement that somehow amplified his intimidating presence. He was waiting, like a predator toying with its prey.

My stomach twisted. "Am I in trouble?" The words slipped out before I could stop them, too soft, too uncertain. I hated the way they sounded like I already knew the answer.

His voice dropped to something quieter, something that made the hairs on my arms rise. "You ask many questions."

I swallowed hard. "That tends to happen when you wake up to a warlord standing over your bed."

His lips twitched. Not quite a smile—more like a shadow of one.

He stepped closer, a shift so subtle yet it sent a spike of adrenaline through my veins. My muscles coiled, my body pressing instinctively against the cold, sterile bed-like prey realizing too late that it's already caught.

I kept my head lowered, instinctively trying to make myself smaller, less of a target. Every instinct screamed at me to flee.

But then-his presence loomed, closer than before.

Too close.

Heat ghosted over my skin, the barest suggestion of breath against my cheek. My pulse slammed against my ribs as I dared to lift my gaze-only to find him right there.

Up close, he was... more. Sharper angles, colder eyes, a stillness that felt lethal.

A clawed hand lifted, the curved talons gleaming under the sterile lights. They hovered, mere inches from my face, the air between us crackling with an unspoken threat.

I swallowed hard, my breath shallow. If he wanted to, he could slice through flesh-through bone-with effortless precision.

His gaze flicked downward, studying me the way one might examine something fragile. Something beneath concern.

Then, his voice, low and cold-

"You flinch like prey."

I forced myself to meet his gaze. “Do I frighten you?”

I hesitated. That was the worst thing I could do. He knew the answer before I did.

"No," I lied.

His claws twitched, just barely, the air humming with unspoken tension. "Liar."

His gaze flicked to my lips for half a second-so brief, so fleeting, I might've imagined it.

Then, just as swiftly as he had invaded my space, he pulled back.

Cold air rushed in where his heat had lingered.

He raised an eyebrow, a gesture that conveyed pure, unadulterated arrogance. "You will recover." A pause. Then, it's colder- "Do not waste it."

Something about the way he said it sent an uneasy prickle down my spine.

"What does that mean?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

He didn't answer.

Instead, he turned, moving toward the door with the same silent, controlled precision he seemed to do everything with.

I didn't know why, but I blurted-

" Admiral"

He stopped. Not fully turning back, but enough that I knew he was listening.

A beat of silence passed.

two.

three.

Then, Kriudra spoke, his tone unreadable.

"Rest. If you collapse again, it will not be I who carries you next."

huh?? what does that even mean ???

And then-just like that-he was gone.

The door sealed shut behind him, leaving me alone with my thoughts.