When a seemingly lifeless boy is saved by a girl.
-
Ma'vona was once a beloved member of the Kame'tire clan, known for their profound understanding of Pandora's flora and unparalleled healing skills. Their expertise was so great that they could heal...
♪ Family Is Our Fortress by Simon Franglen ♪ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ Chapter Twenty-Six: The Test
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The quiet hum of the room drilled into my ears, almost as though it were alive, reminding us that this place was never silent, never safe. My breathing had settled, but the tightness in my chest remained a constant reminder of how dire our situation was. My muscles ached from the unyielding position the chains forced me into, but I refused to let the pain consume me. I couldn't afford to. Not here. Not now.
I leaned my head back against the cold, unyielding wall, letting my eyes drift over to Neteyam, catching the faint furrow of his brow as he avoided my gaze. He was staring at the ceiling, his arms hanging up, and his body rested against the cold wall, his lips pressed into a thin line. I could see the fire burning behind his eyes. He was trying to think, just as I was. How do you outthink a demon like Mercer?
The faint buzz of machinery in the distance was the only sound for hours. It felt oppressive, a constant reminder that we were probably being monitored. Every move, every breath—it wasn't ours anymore.
"We can't talk freely here," I whispered, breaking the silence, my voice so low it was barely audible.
Neteyam's gaze flicked to me, sharp and alert. He didn't need to ask what I meant; we both knew. They were always listening, always watching. Every word we spoke was likely being recorded, analyzed, and dissected for any hint of rebellion.
His lips twitched, almost imperceptibly. "You think they're expecting us to make a move?"
I glanced toward the small vent at the top of the wall, a likely hiding spot for a microphone. "They'd be fools not to. Mercer doesn't strike me as the careless type." My voice was cold, detached.
Neteyam sat up straighter, his chains rattling softly. "Then we give them nothing. Let them think we're beaten down, too scared to try anything."
"But we're not," I replied, my voice firm despite the weight of our circumstances.
His lips quirked into a faint smirk. "Exactly."
We fell silent for a moment, both of us lost in thought. The sterile white of the room was disorienting, making it hard to focus, but I forced myself to push through it. My mind flitted to Txavo, our ikrans, and the open skies we'd left behind. Were they still alive? Captured, maybe? Or worse...
"They'll be okay," Neteyam said, as though reading my thoughts.
"You don't know that," I murmured, my voice tinged with a bitterness I couldn't hide.
"No," he admitted, "but we can't afford to think otherwise."
He was right, of course. Giving in to despair wouldn't help us. I let out a slow breath, forcing myself to focus on what we could control. "If they're listening, we can't talk plainly," I said after a moment.
