CHAPTER 190: NO TIME TO WASTE

Varik tapped the projection once, zooming in on the vault symbol. "When do we leave?"

Selindra hesitated, only for a fraction of a second. "Transport north is already arranged. Dawn."

Lucen glanced at the faint chrono on the wall. Barely six hours away.

He pulled a chair back and dropped into it, slouching. "You don’t waste time, do you."

Selindra sat opposite him, posture straight as a blade. "Wasting time is how people die."

Lucen’s grin widened a fraction, though his voice stayed easy. "Good thing I’m hard to kill, then."

The silence that followed wasn’t empty. It was crowded, with tension, with suspicion, with the unspoken knowledge that none of them trusted the others fully.

Varik finally broke it. "Get some rest. Both of you. We move at first light."

He stood, shutting the projection off with a flick, leaving the bunker in dim gold again. Selindra didn’t move immediately, just watched him cross the room. There was something in her eyes, not challenge, not deference either. Something in between.

Lucen noticed. He noticed everything.

She’s not here for the relic. Not really. She’s here to measure the distance between Varik and me. And if Elira told her to cut the string, she’d do it without blinking.

The thought should have made him tense. Instead, he felt the curl of something that almost resembled excitement.

—

The bunker’s sleeping quarters weren’t large. Two narrow rooms, cots, little else. Lucen lay on his back staring at the ceiling, listening. He could hear Varik’s breathing from the other side of the wall, steady, unshaken. Selindra’s, too, softer, controlled even in rest.

Except she wasn’t sleeping. Not really. He heard the subtle shift, the faint rasp of cloth as she adjusted, awake and listening too.

Lucen smirked to himself in the dark.

’No one’s comfortable. Perfect.’

—

The sky outside was bruised purple when they left the bunker. Selindra wore her coat again, hair tied back, expression unreadable. Varik carried only his blade, no pack, nothing extra. Lucen had slung his own gear casually over one shoulder, though most of his arsenal lived under his skin anyway.

The transport waiting for them was a low-profile military skimmer, matte black, no insignia. Selindra stepped aboard without hesitation, taking the forward seat near the console. Varik followed, silent. Lucen lingered a second, glancing back toward the bunker before climbing in.

The doors sealed. Engines hummed. They lifted.

No one spoke at first. The hum of mana-fed turbines filled the silence, steady and low. The city fell away beneath them, replaced quickly by stretches of frost and stone.

Lucen broke it first. "So. This relic. What do you think it does? Turns people into frogs? Opens a hole in the ground? Summons more paperwork for Elira?"

Selindra didn’t look at him. "It doesn’t matter what I think."

"It matters to me," Lucen said, leaning back with that easy smile. "Call it curiosity."

Her eyes flicked sideways. Cold gray. "Curiosity gets hunters killed."

Lucen tapped his chest with two fingers. "Good thing I’m not a normal hunter."

For the first time, her gaze lingered. Like she was trying to see past the words. Past the smile.

Varik’s voice cut through, low and final. "Enough."

And that was that.

But the air in the skimmer didn’t settle. If anything, it got tighter, a coil wound closer to snapping.

—

The hum of the skimmer was constant, like a low growl vibrating through the steel floor. The forward console painted Selindra’s face in faint blue, light shifting across her pale features as she scanned terrain data. She hadn’t said a word since Varik cut the last exchange short.

Lucen sat at the back, boots up on the edge of a supply case, spinning a coin over his knuckles. Not his coin, not even real currency, just a system projection, flickering faintly when it caught the light. He wasn’t even paying attention to it. He was watching Selindra.

Not openly. Never openly. Just quick glances when she shifted. She moved like a soldier. Spine straight, hands precise, no wasted motion. Professional. The kind of professional that made his system itch.

’She’s here to measure me. Not the relic. Not the mission. Me.’

Varik was the quiet center, as always. He sat opposite Selindra, eyes half-lidded like he was resting, but Lucen knew better. Varik never rested in transit. His hearing was too sharp, his instincts too wired. He was listening to the engines, the wind shear, probably even Lucen’s fake coin spinning.

After thirty minutes of silence, Lucen finally spoke.

"So what’s it like, working for Elira directly? You get paid in extra vacation days, or just in people glaring at you less when you walk into a room?"

Selindra’s eyes didn’t leave the console. "You really can’t sit in silence, can you?"

Lucen grinned. "I can. But silence is boring."

"Boring is safe."

"Yeah," Lucen said, flicking the coin into the air and catching it without looking. "But boring never gets remembered."

Her gaze shifted just slightly toward him, cold and assessing. The kind of look that wasn’t a threat, not yet, but promised she was cataloguing every word, every twitch.

Varik’s voice slid between them, steady as stone. "Both of you. Quiet."

Lucen sighed dramatically and leaned his head back against the bulkhead. "See? This is why people don’t invite you to parties."

No response.

The skimmer banked northward, the windows showing jagged white plains streaked with black veins of rock. The sun sat low, barely touching the horizon, and already the cold bled in, frosting at the edges of the glass.

Lucen rubbed his fingers together, summoning a flicker of heat. A little Ignition Burst, barely more than a candle flame. He shaped it into a ball and balanced it on his palm.

Selindra’s eyes tracked it instantly. Not the way normal hunters looked at a flame, with recognition, with familiarity. No. She tracked it like she was dissecting it, pulling apart the weave with her eyes.

Lucen smirked and closed his hand, snuffing it. "What? Don’t like campfires?"

Her jaw tightened. She turned back to the console.

’Got you staring though.’

—

Two hours in, turbulence hit. Not air turbulence. Mana turbulence.

The skimmer shuddered, the hum of the engines spiking into a growl. Lights flickered along the console. Outside, the horizon rippled faintly, like heat waves on asphalt.

Selindra’s hands moved fast across the controls. "Field distortion. It’s pushing against the stabilizers."

Varik didn’t move, didn’t flinch. "Source?"

"Not natural. It’s bleeding from the vault site."

Lucen leaned forward, curiosity piqued. "That’s a long reach for a sealed relic."

"Which means it’s waking up," Selindra said flatly.

The turbulence grew worse, the skimmer rattling hard enough to knock Lucen’s boots off the case. He braced against the seat, grin tugging wider. ’Now this is interesting.’

"Stabilize it," Varik said.

Selindra’s reply was clipped, controlled. "Working on it."

Lucen tilted his head, watching the ripples crawl across the sky. "Or... we could just jump."

Selindra snapped her gaze at him, sharp. "At this altitude? You’d freeze before you hit the ground."

Lucen wiggled his fingers. "Shockweave Bolt for thrust, Ignition Burst for heat, Soundlash for balance. I’d land just fine."

"You’d land as a smear."

"Eh. Fifty-fifty shot." He grinned wider. "I like those odds."

Varik didn’t even open his eyes. "You’re not jumping."

Lucen slouched back. "Spoilsport."

Selindra muttered something under her breath, too low to catch. Probably a curse.

The skimmer steadied eventually, engines adjusting, field buffers humming louder. The turbulence faded, though the air still felt charged, hair prickling at the back of the neck, taste of ozone on the tongue.

Lucen licked his teeth. ’Feels like walking into a storm before it breaks. Love it.’

—

When the skimmer finally touched down, it wasn’t on flat ground. Selindra had steered it into a narrow pass, cliffs on either side, snow blowing like smoke across the stone. The wind howled, thin and sharp.

They disembarked one by one. Varik first, stepping onto the icy rock without hesitation. Selindra next, coat pulled tight, movements precise. Lucen last, stretching his arms above his head like he’d just finished a nap.

The relic site was still miles north. They’d have to move on foot.

The air bit harder with every breath. Frost clung to their boots in seconds.

Lucen flexed his fingers, a faint glow of mana warming them from inside. Selindra’s eyes flicked to it again. Not a word, but he caught the look.

He smirked. "Want me to make you a hand-warmer? I charge reasonable rates."

"Save your mana," she said.

’Oh, I’ll save it. Just not for what you think.’

—

The first attack came quick.

They were threading through a narrow gorge when the snow shifted above. Too heavy, too sudden. Not natural.

Varik’s voice cut sharp: "Down."

They dropped just as a beast lunged from the ridge, all fur and ice-crusted fangs, bigger than a bear but moving twice as fast. Its roar echoed down the gorge, rattling ice loose.

Selindra moved first, blade out in a blink, slashing upward to catch the creature’s chest. Sparks burst as steel scraped ice armor. The beast staggered, but not much.

Lucen’s grin snapped into place. He thrust his hand forward, mana crackling.

[Shockweave Bolt.]

The bolt smashed into its flank, blue lightning crackling across fur and ice. The beast howled, jerking sideways, exposed.

Varik stepped in. One swing. His blade split the creature from shoulder to hip, clean and final. It collapsed, steam rising from its blood on the snow.

The gorge went quiet again. Just wind.

Selindra wiped her blade, eyes flicking once toward Lucen. Not gratitude. Measurement.

Lucen gave her a lazy salute with two fingers. "Teamwork, huh? We’re adorable."

Varik’s tone was iron. "Move."

And they did.

But the storm in the distance was growing darker.

And Lucen could feel it, that creeping weight at the edge of his system, the whisper of something old pressing against the seals.

’This is gonna be fun.’