5
The hum of Torrak engines grew louder, reverberating through the remains of the transport bay. Zara’s heart thundered in her chest as she pressed her back against the scorched metal of a broken ship, her pulse racing with every passing second. Sweat trickled down her temple, though whether it was from fear or exhaustion, she wasn’t sure.
Atlas crouched a few feet ahead, his broad frame partially obscured by a crumbling support beam. He didn’t move, didn’t make a sound, but the tension radiating off him was palpable. His glowing silver-blue eyes scanned the area with a predator’s focus, calculating and unrelenting.
“They’re closing in,” she whispered, clutching her pulse rifle so tightly her fingers ached.
His head tilted slightly toward her, though his gaze never left the path ahead. “I know,” he said, his voice calm but laced with urgency.
Her eyes lingered on him for a moment too long. The faint glow of the distant fires reflected off his synthetic skin, casting shadows along the sharp planes of his face. He looked otherworldly, almost too perfect to be real, and yet there was something heartbreakingly human in the way his jaw tightened, his shoulders tensed.
“What’s the plan?” she asked, forcing herself to focus.
Atlas didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he turned to face her, his expression unreadable but his eyes burning with intensity. “There is a service tunnel beneath the bay,” he said. “If we reach it, we can escape undetected.”
“And if we don’t?”
His gaze held hers, unwavering. “We will.”
There it was again—that unshakable certainty, the kind that made her chest tighten and her throat dry. She didn’t know whether to find it reassuring or maddening.
Atlas moved first, his steps unnervingly silent despite his size. Zara followed closely, her rifle raised, her eyes darting between the scattered wreckage and the shadows that seemed to shift with every flicker of light.
The engines were closer now, the sound a low, guttural growl that sent chills racing down her spine. Zara’s grip tightened on her weapon as they reached the edge of the bay. The tunnel entrance was partially buried beneath debris, its narrow opening barely visible.
Atlas crouched by the rubble, his strong hands moving with precision as he cleared the path. Zara’s gaze flickered to his hands—broad, powerful, yet capable of such gentleness. She remembered the way they had cradled her earlier, the way they had brushed against her cheek with a tenderness that didn’t belong to a machine.
Her stomach twisted at the memory. She hated how much she’d felt in that moment, how much she still felt now, watching him.
“Zara,” Atlas said, his voice snapping her out of her thoughts.
She blinked, realizing he was looking at her, his head tilted slightly in that way he did when he was curious—or concerned.
“Are you injured?” he asked, his glowing eyes scanning her with an intensity that made her skin prickle.
“No,” she said quickly, shaking her head. “I’m fine.”
He didn’t look convinced, but he nodded and turned back to the rubble. “Stay close to me,” he said, his voice softer this time.
They slipped into the tunnel just as the Torrak engines roared into the bay. Zara’s breath caught as the sound echoed above them, but Atlas didn’t hesitate, his broad frame moving through the narrow passage with ease.
The tunnel was dark, the only light coming from the faint glow of his eyes. Zara stayed close, her shoulder brushing against his arm as they moved. The air was thick, heavy with the metallic scent of rust and something else she couldn’t place.
“How far does this go?” she asked, her voice hushed.
“Far enough to take us beyond their perimeter,” he replied.
His voice, low and steady, seemed to fill the space around them, grounding her in a way she didn’t expect. She found herself watching him again, the way his muscles shifted beneath his synthetic skin, the way his movements were so precise yet so natural.
“You’re staring,” he said suddenly, his voice breaking the silence.
Her cheeks burned. “No, I’m not.”
“You are,” he said, his tone almost teasing, though his expression remained serious. “Is there something you wish to ask me?”
She hesitated, her grip tightening on her rifle. “Do you ever get tired of this?”
“Of what?”
“Of... pretending to be human,” she said, her voice quieter now. “Of trying to feel things you weren’t meant to feel.”
Atlas slowed, his glowing eyes flickering as he turned to face her. “I do not pretend,” he said, his voice firm. “What I feel is real, even if I cannot name it.”
Her chest tightened at the raw honesty in his words. “But it’s not natural,” she said, her voice wavering. “You’re a machine, Atlas. You weren’t built for this.”
“And yet,” he said, stepping closer, his gaze locking onto hers, “I feel it all the same.”
His proximity was overwhelming. She could see the faint seams where his synthetic skin met metal, could hear the low hum of his internal systems. And yet, in that moment, he felt more alive than anyone she’d ever known.
“Zara,” he said, her name a whisper on his lips. “Why do you fear what I am?”
“I don’t fear you,” she said, though the words felt hollow.
“You do,” he said softly, his hand rising to brush against her cheek. His touch was light, hesitant, but it sent a shiver through her all the same. “Not because I am a machine, but because I make you feel something you cannot control.”
Her breath hitched, her chest tightening as his words hit home. He was right, and she hated that he was right.
“I can’t—” she started, but the words caught in her throat.
“Can’t what?” he asked, his voice so soft it was almost a whisper.
“Can’t feel this way about you,” she said finally, her voice breaking.
His hand fell away, but his gaze remained locked on hers. “And yet you do.”
The silence between them was deafening, charged with a tension that made her head spin. She wanted to say something, anything, to break the spell, but the sound of distant footsteps snapped them both to attention.
“They’re following us,” Atlas said, his voice sharp again.
“Can we outrun them?” she asked, her pulse spiking.
“No,” he said, his jaw tightening. “But I can hold them off.”
Her stomach dropped. “No. Absolutely not.”
“Zara,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “You must keep moving. I will find you.”
She grabbed his arm, her fingers digging into his synthetic skin. “I’m not leaving you,” she said, her voice shaking.
“You have to,” he said, his gaze softening. “I cannot protect you if you stay.”
Her heart clenched as she looked up at him, his glowing eyes filled with a quiet determination that broke something inside her. “Promise me,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Promise me you’ll come back.”
“I promise,” he said, his voice steady.
Before she could respond, he turned and disappeared into the darkness, leaving her alone with the sound of her own racing heartbeat.