The question hung in the air between them. Three women, three different expressions. Sophieâs careful composure. Lilaâs guarded hope. Seralethâs patient waiting.
Noah looked at each of them in turn, trying to organize thoughts that refused to organize. This wasnât a tactical problem with clear solutions. This was people, feelings, the kind of complexity that made fighting Harbingers seem straightforward by comparison.
âBut I care about all of them. Thatâs not complicated. Thatâs just true.â
"Yes," Noah said finally. "I want this. All of this. With all of you."
Lilaâs smile was immediate, genuine relief washing across her features. Seralethâs expression softened into something warm. Sophie nodded once, satisfaction evident.
"Okay," Sophie said, and Noah recognized the subtle shift in her posture. Not tactical coordinator anymore. Just Sophie, his girlfriend, navigating something personal. "So we should probably figure out how this actually works. Because saying yes is easy. Living it is different."
"Iâm not interested in schedules," Lila said immediately. "If this becomes some kind of rotation system where we get assigned time slots, Iâm out."
"I wasnât suggesting schedules." Sophieâs tone carried patience. "But we need some kind of structure or this becomes chaos. Iâm not trying to control everything. Iâm trying to make sure nobody feels ignored or sidelined."
"I have no objections to organizational principles," Seraleth offered. "My people have similar arrangements for complex things. Clear communication prevents conflict."
Noah found himself relaxing slightly. Theyâd clearly talked this through before he arrived, worked out potential friction points. This wasnât improvisation. Theyâd planned.
"I just want to be clear about one thing," Sophie continued, looking at Noah. "Weâre still us. You and me. That doesnât change because weâre adding people. Iâm still your girlfriend. Iâm still the person you come to first when things get complicated."
"Of course."
"Good." Sophie glanced at Lila and Seraleth. "And you two are important. This only works if everyone actually matters, not just in theory."
"I can live with that," Lila said. Her competitive edge was still there, but tempered. "As long as âfirstâ doesnât mean âonly one who counts.â"
"It doesnât. It just means Iâve been here longer and Iâm not giving that up." Sophieâs voice carried finality that invited no argument. "But youâll have access, time, everything that matters. Weâll figure it out as we go."
The conversation continued for another twenty minutes. Practical things, mostly. Communication expectations. Boundaries. How to handle situations where someone felt neglected. It was surreal, listening to three women discuss sharing him like they were planning a military operation, except softer. More personal.
Eventually Sophie stood. "Itâs late. We should all get some sleep."
"Agreed," Seraleth said, rising as well. "Tomorrow will bring its own complications."
Lila lingered for a moment after theyâd left, studying Noah with an expression he couldnât quite read. "You know this is insane, right?"
"Extremely insane."
"Good. Just checking that weâre all aware." She walked over to where he sat, leaned down, and kissed him. Not long, not performative. Just genuine. "Iâm glad you said yes."
Then she left too, and Noah sat alone in the conference room trying to process what had just happened.
Heâd agreed to date three women simultaneously. With their full knowledge and consent. In a arrangement that somehow felt more organized than most of his tactical operations.
âMy life is absurd.â
Noah headed back toward his quarters, exhaustion finally catching up with him. The headquarters were quiet at this hour, most people asleep or in their rooms. He made it maybe thirty feet before running into Kelvin, who was apparently still awake and looked like heâd been waiting.
"So?" Kelvin asked without preamble. "Howâd it go?"
"I said yes."
"CALLED IT!" Kelvinâs grin was manic. "I absolutely called it. Youâre living in a manga and Iâm the best friend character who gets to watch it happen. This is amazing."
"Itâs terrifying."
"That too. But also amazing." Kelvin fell into step beside him as they walked. "So what now? Do you have like, dates scheduled? Ground rules established? A hierarchy chart?"
"Sophie wants to coordinate things, but not in a weird controlling way. Just making sure everyone gets attention and nobody feels ignored." Noah rubbed his face. "Lilaâs competitive about it. Sera seems completely unbothered. I have no idea how this is actually going to work."
"Nobody knows how itâs going to work. Thatâs the fun part." Kelvinâs expression shifted to something more serious. "But hey, Iâm glad you went for it. You deserve to be happy. Even if happiness looks unconventional and possibly like a logistical nightmare."
They reached Noahâs quarters. Kelvin was about to say goodnight when his comm device started screaming.
Not a normal alert. Emergency broadcast, maximum priority, the kind of signal that meant someone was dying or about to die.
Kelvin grabbed the device, his expression shifting from casual to panicked in under a second. The holographic display showed a beacon identifier, vitals data, and partial message fragments scrolling past too fast to read properly.
"No," Kelvin whispered. "No no no, come onâ"
"What is it?" Noah asked, already moving into fight mode.
"Coraâs emergency beacon just activated." Kelvinâs hands were shaking as he pulled up more data. "She told me last night she was going on a training expedition. Standard academy stuff, supervised, supposed to be safe. But the beaconâ" His voice cracked. "Noah, the beacon wouldnât activate unless she was dying."
Noahâs mind shifted immediately. Relationship complications vanished, replaced by operational focus. "Location?"
Kelvin sent the coordinates to his own device. "Outer territories, maybe two hours by fast transport. The message is fragmented but Iâm seeingâ" He stopped, staring at partial text. "Multiple casualties. Hostile contact. Requesting immediate evac."
"When did it activate?"
"Thirty minutes ago." Kelvin looked up, and Noah saw genuine fear in his friendâs eyes. "Thirty minutes, Noah. If itâs Harbingersâ"
"Get KROME ready. Iâm pulling the core team." Noah was already activating comms. "Sophie, Diana, Lila, Seraleth. Emergency deployment. Kelvinâs contactâ Cora is in danger."
Acknowledgments came back immediately. No questions, no hesitation. Within five minutes, the core team assembled in the main hangar where Sam was already coordinating transport.
"What are we dealing with?" Sophie asked, her earlier intimacy completely replaced by faction coordinator efficiency.
"Unknown hostile contact, academy training expedition, multiple casualties confirmed." Noah gestured to Kelvin. "Cora activated an emergency beacon thirty minutes ago."
"Thirty minutes is a long time in a combat situation," Diana observed, but her tone was gentle rather than harsh. "She could be hiding. Staying low until help arrived."
"Or she could be dead and the beaconâs just broadcasting automatically," Kelvin said, his voice was hollow. He was suiting up, hands moving through familiar motions. "I gave her that beacon. Told her to keep it on her at all times because I didnât trust academy expeditions. Our first one had us facing a two-horn right away. She thought I was being paranoid."
"You were being smart," Seraleth said, already loading equipment into the transport. "Paranoia that saves lives is called preparation."
They boarded quickly. Sam had pulled one of the faster transports, something that could make the two-hour journey in maybe ninety minutes if they pushed it. Noah settled into the pilot seat, Sophie taking navigation, everyone else securing equipment.
The flight was tense. Kelvin tracked Coraâs beacon obsessively, reading out updates that didnât actually tell them anything useful. Still broadcasting. Vitals showing as offline, which could mean her suit was damaged or sheâd removed it or she was dead and the beacon was working independently.
"Tell me about her," Diana said after twenty minutes of silence. "Cora. Whatâs she like?"
Kelvin looked up from his tablet. "Sheâs brilliant. She didnât realize it but when we started hanging out, she realized she had a talent for engineering as well. We were always building weird projects that technically violate academy regulations but somehow got away anyway. She sends me designs at random hours asking if theyâll explode. Usually the answer is yes."
"You like her," Diana observed.
"Sheâs my friend. One of the few people at the academy who treated me like a person instead of Webb Pithonâs son." Kelvinâs hands tightened on the tablet. "She shouldâve been called up to Vanguard with us. She was good enough. But the selections were random and she didnât make the cut. Stayed at the academy while we went to the station."
"Weâll find her," Noah said from the pilot seat.
"You canât promise that."
"No. But I can promise weâll try everything."
The last thirty minutes of flight passed in silence. Noah pushed the transport harder than was probably safe, atmospheric friction creating visible heat distortion across the viewports. Sophie kept updating their approach vector, coordinating with Sam back at headquarters.
Then they saw it.
The devastation stretched for kilometers. Three academy training ships, the kind designed to transport students safely and provide emergency defense if needed. One was completely destroyed, just scattered wreckage across scorched earth. The other two had crashed, listing at angles that suggested catastrophic damage. Small fires burned across the landscape.
And bodies. Not many, but enough. Students in academy uniforms and even instructors. They all showed theyâd been crushed or torn apart by something with overwhelming physical strength.
Noah set the transport down at the edge of the destruction zone, far enough to avoid debris but close enough for quick deployment. Everyone disembarked in combat formation, weapons ready, scanning for threats.
The silence was worse than noise. No sounds except small fires crackling, metal creaking, wind carrying smoke across the wasteland.
Kelvin had his scanner out immediately. "Her beaconâs still transmitting. Sheâs here. Maybe half a kilometer that direction." He pointed toward one of the crashed ships.
"Weâre not alone," Lila said quietly.
Noah felt it too. His threat detection hadnât triggered, but something about the battlefield felt wrong. Not empty.
Then they saw a pod.
Massive, obsidian black, still radiating heat from atmospheric entry. It sat in a crater maybe thirty meters across, split open into four distinct sections like a flower blooming. The interior was dark, empty.
"Harbinger insertion pod," Seraleth said, her voice carrying recognition. "Standard invasion equipment. Four-unit deployment configuration."
"Four," Diana repeated. "Four Harbingers hit a training expedition?"
Movement caught Noahâs attention. In the distance, barely visible through smoke and wreckage. Something large. Then another shape. Then two more.
They emerged from the haze like nightmares given form. Two-horns, but massive ones, each easily fifteen feet tall. Natural armor covered their bodies. Two curved horns protruded from each skull. They moved with purpose, not random destruction.
They were hunting.
And they were spreading out, systematically searching the wreckage.
"Theyâre looking for survivors," Sophie said, "Not rampaging. They are Hunting."
Kelvinâs scanner pinged urgently. "Life signs. Multiple contacts. Not just Cora, there are survivors scattered across the battlefield. Hiding in the wreckage, injured, trying to stay quiet."
The four two-horns were getting closer to those life signs. They were methodical and patient. They would find the survivors eventually.
Noah made his decision. "Kelvin, track Coraâs exact location and get her out. Diana, Lila, with him. Provide cover and extract any survivors you encounter. Seraleth, Sophie, youâre with me. Weâre engaging these things and buying time for extraction."
"Four two-horns simultaneously is ambitious," Seraleth observed, but she was already readying herself.
"Good thing weâre not planning to fight fair." Noah activated his comms. "Nyx Ascend,"
A purple portal opened beside Noah. And red mist began to pour out. He roared loudly, announcing his presence.
The four two-horns turned toward them, abandoning their hunt. Their attention fixed on the new threats.
Perfect.
"Letâs go to work," Noah said, Excaliburn manifesting in his hand.