Within the Eye

Chapter 11

I sat quietly in the back of the car, the weight of my conversation with General Vinzen still hovering over me like a thick, invisible fog. The engine's low hum reverberated through the car, lulling me back into that state of half-awareness where my mind both wandered and remained hyper-focused.

But something gnawed at the edges of my thoughts. Vinzen's parting words: "Encourage your Pair to go home..."

Merritt. Praxys.

I had forgotten to speak with him. How careless of me.

"Take me back," I said, breaking the silence between myself and the driver. "I need to find Lieutenant General Merritt."

The driver gave me a brief nod, turning the car smoothly back toward the Paladin Headquarters. I stared out the window, watching the Capital's high walls blur by, my reflection superimposed on the glass—a tired, distant figure. I tried to recall the last time I'd seen Praxys. The days had blurred together, the intense focus on Project Harbour consuming my every waking hour. Was it several days since I'd returned to our shared accommodation? Perhaps I had miscalculated the passage of time, but I couldn't recall the exact moment when the world outside the Institute became a distant concept.

The driver pulled to a stop at the Headquarters entrance once more, and I stepped out, nodding in gratitude before walking through the large, imposing doors. I made my way inside and approached a group of lower-ranked officers standing by the entryway. The soldiers straightened as I neared them, their casual banter dying the instant they noticed my presence.

"I'm looking for Lieutenant General Merritt," I said, watching as their faces tensed with a mix of nerves and amusement.

One of them, barely older than twenty, grinned in an unconvincing attempt at professionalism. "You're looking for Lieutenant General Merritt? Sure, ma'am. He should be finishing up the drills soon and in the break room. Take a right, down the hall. The room's on your left."

I blinked, glancing briefly in the direction he pointed. "Thank you."

As I walked away, I noticed the stifled laughter that followed me, but I pushed it aside. It wasn't worth engaging with. Directions were directions, and finding Praxys was my only goal. After several turns and corridors, I found the locker room—a heavy door marked with a metal plaque.It swung open as I pushed it, and immediately, I knew something wasn't right. The room was filled with the sound of voices and the smell of sweat, and as I stepped inside, several soldiers turned to face me. They were in various stages of undress, towelling themselves off after what looked like a long training session. One of them, a tall, muscular man with a broad frame, tilted his head curiously.

"Well, well. Look what we have here, boys. A visitor." His eyes gleamed with amusement, his voice dripping with mock politeness. "Can we help you with something, miss?"

I didn't respond, my gaze scanning the room briefly. This wasn't where I was meant to be.

Before anyone could approach me further, another familiar voice cut through the tension.

"Tulsa. Enough." Maximillion's tone was hard, commanding immediate respect. The soldier who had spoken to me—Tulsa, I assume —took a step back, grumbling under his breath. 

"Out. Now," Maximillion ordered.

The others, Yarvis and Henry according to their locker nametags, exchanged looks before following Tulsa out the exit. I stood near the door as they filed out, casting a few lingering glances at me as they passed. Tulsa gave me an appraising look as he left, and I resisted the urge to scowl at the disdain on his face.

When we were alone, Maximillion turned back toward me, his brow furrowing as if trying to make sense of my presence.

"You've really done it this time, Director," he said, pulling on his shirt. "What are you doing here?"

I hesitated for a moment, unsure how to answer. "I was looking for Lieutenant General Merritt. Some soldiers gave me directions."

Maximillion stopped mid-motion, his expression caught between disbelief and exasperation. "You actually listened to them? Junior officers? Pandora, that's uncharacteristically stupid."

His bluntness barely registered with me as my gaze shifted to the far side of the room. There, tucked in the corner, was a single locker with "MERRITT" etched into its surface in shining gold lettering. The locker's door was slightly ajar, revealing a lived-in clutter. Uniforms hung neatly inside, but there were also small signs of someone living out of it—personal items, half-empty water bottles, training gear that hadn't been properly stowed away.

He's been staying here. 

The realization hit me, but it came without emotion. How many days had passed since Praxys last came home? How hadn't I noticed?

Maximillion cleared his throat, and I realized he had been speaking to me. 

"... Did you come in here on purpose, knowing I'd be here?" His voice was softer, hesitant.

I blinked, dragging my attention back to him, though I hadn't heard a word of what he'd said. "Excuse me?"

He sighed, pulling on his jacket, a faint flush creeping up his neck. "Never mind. Just... wait here. I'll go get Praxys."

Maximillion moved toward the door but paused just before stepping through it. His eyes flicked back to me, a rare flash of vulnerability passing through his otherwise stoic face.

"It's unfair, you know," he said quietly, his hand resting on the doorframe. "You refuse to see him for days on end, and then you just show up here at his workplace, expecting to see him."

I stared at him, processing the words. Refuse to see him?

Maximillion continued, though his voice held no accusation. "He's been coming by the Institute every day. Asking for you. The Institute kept telling him you were busy. Told him it was best to wait until you weren't."

My fingers tightened around the strap of my bag. Praxys had been coming to the Institute? Every day? The days had melded together so seamlessly, a blur of work and team check-ins. Had so much time passed?

Maximillion opened the door, disappearing down the hallway in search of Praxys, leaving me standing alone in the locker room.

I turned my gaze back to Praxys's locker, the edges of my vision fading into a soft blur as the realization settled. He had been living here—out of the locker, training for days on end. Just like I had disappeared into my work, he had disappeared into his drills, each of us trapped in our separate worlds.And yet, here we were, still circling each other, two planets stuck in each others' orbit.