Chapter 96: Chaotic Extraction, Kane-Level

Chapter 96: Chaotic Extraction, Kane-Level
They were sprinting through the collapsing corridors of Z-47, surrounded by the screech of twisted metal and sporadic gunfire. The station was crumbling behind them, and yet…

“Could you slow down a little? I’ve got a bullet in my hip! And that’s no reason to shake a man around like a sack of potatoes!”

Kane was complaining. Again.

“We’re going too fast, huh? Too bad for your hip. Want us to stop for tea while we’re at it?” Skye growled, exhausted as she held the back of the improvised stretcher with Zeynn.

“That wouldn’t be too much to ask! A chamomile with a splash of rum and maybe I’ll forget I’m dying surrounded by kids and armored psychopaths!”

Zeynn rolled his eyes loudly. Blue, leading the way, let out a growl every few steps, as if weighing whether it would be worth silencing the injured man with a single well-placed bite.

Evelyn, focused on the stabilizers strapped to Kane’s chest, ignored him completely. Her eyes were icy, her gestures meticulous.

“If you say another word, your heart rate could drop by thirty percent. And at that point, saving your miserable hide will become a real challenge.”

“…Oh.”

Finally, blessed silence.

Rax brought up the rear, covering them while commenting dryly:

“I thought this guy was supposed to die. Shame complaining isn’t a lethal ability, huh?”

“Next time,” Vykhor said sharply, “we leave him behind with a recorder. Maybe his whining will vaporize the mercenaries for us.”

Kane, outraged, tried to lift himself—then winced.

“Damn it, my shoulder! You slammed it into something!”

“Your ego takes up more space than your body. It’s normal it scrapes on everything,” Zeynn shot back, laughing despite his exhaustion.

They finally burst into the outer hangar, where the Narak’Tharr waited, flooding the zone with cold, bright light.

Kryna spoke through the overhead emitters:

“I detect excessive verbal output from the injured party. Should I activate temporary sedation via calming aerosol?”

“No,” Evelyn cut in without even looking up. “Another complaint and I’ll do it myself.”

Silence.

A sacred silence.

Even Kane didn’t dare say another word.

At least until they crossed the ship’s ramp—when he resumed as if nothing had happened:

“But seriously, you could warn me when you turn left! I almost bit my tongue!”

And this time… even Vykhor let the corner of his mouth twitch.

Because in the end, this was the Kael’seth pack: dysfunctional. Chaotic. Tireless. But very much alive.

Narak’Tharr – Infirmary (Dim Lighting)

The door closed gently on the medical bay, sealing Jonathan Kane inside. Finally sedated, he had no opportunity to complain—for a few hours, at least.

Evelyn let out a long breath, shoulders low. She remained there for a moment, facing the closed door, as if making sure he wouldn’t suddenly burst out screaming that he’d been injected with expired serum.

A soft rustle behind her.

Zeynn. The boy had slipped into the hallway soundlessly, Blue at his heels. The massive feline sat without a sound, ears lowered, watching like a quiet guardian.

“You survived,” Evelyn said with a tired, slightly shaky smile.

“Yeah. Even his whining,” Zeynn replied with a half-smile. “Honestly, I almost broke after the tenth complaint about his socks being too tight.”

Evelyn stifled a laugh. She approached, knelt in front of him, and gently took his arms to inspect them. A few scrapes, a bruise under his eye, but he was standing. Present. Proud.

“You were incredible.”

Zeynn shrugged, embarrassed, ears lowering just slightly—like a kitten caught accepting affection.

“I just followed the flow. And… it wasn’t for him. It was for you. For Vykhor. For Blue.”

He hesitated.

“And maybe a little for me. To see if I could do it without messing everything up.”

Evelyn straightened and cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing softly against his skin.

“You didn’t mess anything up. You were brave. And mature.”

He looked away too fast.

“Stop, that’s embarrassing.”

But she saw the smile tugging at his lips. It wasn’t false modesty. Just a boy slowly realizing he belonged. That he mattered.

“You know,” she said softly, “I never told you… but I’m proud of you.”

Zeynn blinked once. Twice. He opened his mouth, but no sound came.

So she pulled him into her arms, a warm, sincere embrace. He stiffened, as always… then relaxed. And this time, he didn’t pull away too quickly. He held on for a moment.

“I’m not a kid,” he muttered, voice a little rough.

“No. But you’re still my little miracle.”

She felt his arms wrap around her, tentative but real.

Behind them, sensing the emotion, Blue stepped forward and gently pressed his muzzle against their backs—enclosing their fragile bubble with his massive, silent presence.

A frozen tableau. The scientist. The son without blood ties. The feline sentinel.

And somewhere, hidden in the shadows of the corridor… Vykhor watched. He said nothing. But his heart knew: his My’Lari wasn’t just building a pack. She was building a family.

Narak’Tharr – Briefing Room

The room was dimly lit, as if the entire crew were holding its breath. Kane was snoring in the infirmary—a temporary blessing—and the Kael’seth pack had gathered around the main table. On the central screen, a message awaited them.

A series of codes. An encryption older than the first colonies. But Evelyn had recognized it instantly.

Her breath had stopped.

She hadn’t spoken at first. She simply sat, fingers locked around the edge of the table, eyes fixed on the symbols.

“What is it?” Skye asked, leaning back with her arms crossed.

Evelyn took a difficult breath.

“It’s a personal code. I’m the only one who can read it.”

She scrolled through the first lines with almost sacred slowness, then murmured:

“He’s alive. It’s him. It’s Griffin.”

Zeynn, seated beside her, frowned. He knew that name. Not just as a rumor. He had seen him. Heard him.

“The guy from the test…” he whispered. “The… dude who almost fried our synapses? That’s him?”

Evelyn nodded slowly.

“Yes. But he’s much more than that. He saved me.”

Rax straightened slightly, the metal of his eyes gleaming with curiosity.

“The Alan Griffin? The Exotherian responsible for the Lambda Project diversion on Earth?”

Vykhor had been silent until now. But his gaze had never left Evelyn. He knew her too well. He saw the tremor beneath her stillness.

Evelyn rose slowly. Without looking at them, she spoke as if to herself:

“He taught me how to live. When I was still broken. When I didn’t understand anything about what I was. When… I didn’t even know how to dress myself, how to eat, how to interact with people. He gave me a home, rules, a gaze without fear.”

Then she turned toward them. Toward her pack. Her voice was steady, but trembling with emotion.

“He left to protect me. He destroyed the laboratory where I was created. He left me a letter… and the hope that he might survive. I always wanted to see him again. Just for him to tell me… that he missed me.”

Silence. Total.

Even Blue, lying by the door, didn’t move.

Vykhor, arms crossed, gave a single nod.

“And now he’s coming back.”

“Yes,” Evelyn confirmed. “He says he’s coming to us. Here. On the Narak’Tharr.”

Zeynn, emotional but awkward, whispered:

“You think he’ll recognize you?”

Evelyn smiled—a sad, almost childlike smile.

“I don’t know. But I never forgot him.”

Rax exhaled loudly, trying to cut the tension:

“Well. That’s gonna be one hell of a reunion. We’re gonna need tissues. And firewalls.”

Skye, more serious, stepped forward and placed a hand on Evelyn’s shoulder.

“Whatever happens… we’re with you.”

Evelyn breathed in deeply. For the first time in a long while, she wasn’t alone in waiting for this kind of miracle. She had a pack. A family.

And now, the past was knocking on their door.