The night wind howled outside the smuggler camp. Kael stood watch near the perimeter, blade unsheathed, eyes scanning the tree line. He didn't trust Zeyna—or anyone here, for that matter.
Inside their temporary shelter, Rhea sat cross-legged, eyes glued to the small flame flickering in a lantern.
"Do you think they'll help us?" she asked.
Aria, sharpening a knife, didn't look up. "I think they'll do what benefits them."
"And us?"
"We're temporary leverage."
There was a long silence.
Then Rhea said, "Back in the cryo-lab... I saw files. Not just on me. On others. Subjects like me. Some older. Some... broken."
Aria stilled. "You remember?"
"Not everything. But enough to know I wasn't the first. Or the last."
Kael entered just then, dusted with frost. "Zeyna's calling a council in the morning. Word's spreading fast—too fast."
Aria rose. "Then we leave at first light."
"But what about the deal?" Rhea asked.
"We got what we needed," Kael muttered. "Now we disappear before they start wondering if killing us is easier than protecting us.