I stared into the mirror, watching as microfilaments danced beneath my skin.
The new nanotech was finally integrating. Developed in under 72 hours by our top minds and fused with some of the Rikapud tech we'd salvaged, it was the first attempt at repairing my body from the inside. Millions of nanobots flowed through my bloodstream—targeting torn ligaments, repairing tissue at a cellular level, reinforcing muscle density.
It felt like ants crawling through my veins.
But I could move.
"Still think you're indestructible?"
Nkhensani's voice cut through the low hum of the lab.
She stood at the door, arms crossed, face tight. Not with anger. With worry.
"I never said that," I muttered, flexing my hand. The new fibers strengthened my grip. "But I'm still standing, aren't I?"
"That's not the same as healing," she snapped. "You can barely hold yourself together. You think injecting yourself with untested nanotech is a fix? You're gambling with your life."
"And what would you have me do?" I shot back, turning to her. "Let everyone else fight while I sit in a chamber and hope my bones knit themselves back together?"
"No," she said, stepping closer. "I want you to stop thinking you're alone in this. You're not the only one bleeding for this planet."
She reached out, but I stepped away, pulse spiking.
"This war needs someone who's willing to break."
She paused. "No. It needs someone who's willing to survive."
The silence thickened.
"You don't get it, do you?" Her voice cracked slightly. "I watch you rush into death like it's the only thing that matters. Like your life is a tool, not a person."
"I'm doing what I was made to do."
She shook her head, eyes shimmering now. "No. You're doing what you think love means. Sacrifice. Pain. Martyrdom. But real love… means staying. Fighting with us. Beside us. With me."
I blinked. The words lodged themselves deeper than I expected.
"I care about you," she whispered, stepping closer. "I've always cared. But I'm done watching you die in pieces."
My voice was hoarse. "And if I said I care too?"
She smiled faintly, then punched me—not hard, but enough to remind me I was alive.
"Then stop being an idiot and let me fight with you."
I looked at her then—really looked. Past the uniform, past the frustration. At the fire in her eyes. At the way her hands trembled even as she stood tall.
"You're insane," I said.
"Perfect match for you, then."
We didn't kiss. Not yet. But something shifted—something unspoken but understood.
We were no longer pretending.
Hours later, I stood with my command team, reviewing updated scans of Earth's orbital defenses.
Then the alert sounded.
Rikapud ships—small, fast, and heavily cloaked—were breaching the Kuiper perimeter.
Another wave.
And this time, they weren't testing us.
They were hunting.
I turned to my team. Nkhensani stood beside me, already in her suit.
"Line up," I said quietly.
She smirked. "Ready when you are, Commander."
As we moved toward the launch bay, I could feel it. The tide shifting. Not in our favor yet—but toward something new. Stronger. Smarter. More united.
Love didn't make us weak.
It made us unstoppable.