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“This is why you fell six meters.”

“Four.”

Inside the drone, the empire had built elegance around cruelty. Memory wafers nested beneath self-destruct charges. The targeting system contained profiles for every member of the returning patrol, but only Kesta’s file carried an active retrieval command. She copied fragments before the encryption collapsed.

H-PRIME MEDICAL CLASS.

TRANSFER COHORT VEIL-7.

COMPATIBILITY ASSET: KHAROVIAN COMMAND GENOTYPE.

OBSERVE. DO NOT TERMINATE WITHOUT OVERRIDE.

The final line was incomplete. Tavi read over her shoulder. “Command genotype means Dreven?”

“Probably.”

“So the machine was looking for both of you.”

“It found me first.”

“And displayed a pair-response.”

Kesta’s stomach tightened. “That may refer to the claim band interacting with his biology. It does not prove we were deliberately matched.” Tavi nodded with exaggerated seriousness. “You prefer your terrifying conclusions slowly.”

“I prefer evidence.”

“Evidence is terrifying slowly.”

She saved the data to an isolated crystal. Dreven waited outside the workshop. He had washed the blood from his face but not changed his torn armor.

“What did you find?” he asked.

Kesta told him everything, including the compatibility line. His expression revealed nothing until she reached the instruction not to terminate her.

“You were protected,” he said.

“Preserved.”

“Yes.”

The difference chilled them both.

“We need to move the camp,” Dreven said.

“Can Ash Camp move?”

“Not all at once. The condenser, the gardens, the infirmary—no. But the children and vulnerable can be dispersed.”

“You’re thinking like they already have our location.”

“I am thinking like they may.”

Kesta folded her arms. “And what happens to me?”

“You go with the first protected group.”

The protective response came out of Dreven immediate and absolute. Then he saw Kesta’s face and stopped himself. The pause mattered more than the instinct because it showed her where choice still entered the sequence.