Barnaby and Youri drove toward the space station in silence, through a city that refused to sleep. Neon pulsed along the highways. The casinos glowed brighter the closer they came to the upper transit lanes, until Vegas looked almost unreal at that hour, a constellation of color and excess burning against the desert night.
After several minutes, Barnaby broke the silence. "Aren't you going to say goodbye to anyone?" he asked, with one hand resting easily on the controls as the car glided on.
Youri didn't answer right away. He kept his eyes on the window, watching the lights smear into streaks of gold and pink, while faces flickered through his mind — Leo, Mia, Gloria, even Toney. He pushed them down as quickly as they came.
"It's better this way," he said at last, quietly. "I didn't stay long enough to make goodbyes mean anything."
It wasn't true, and they both knew it. But Barnaby only glanced at him and nodded once. "You usually know what's best for yourself," he said. "Even when it costs you."
The car slowed as the station came into view, rising above the city like a metal crown with its docking bays jutting from its core and ships of every size drifting in and out under tight control, military insignia stamped on everything; this was no civilian port. They parked beneath one of the restricted hangars. Barnaby got out first, and Youri followed him, aching all over but with his resolve firm, until he saw the ship docked ahead of them, and something twisted in his chest.
The Khasano.
It's always goodbyes with this ship, he thought. Never welcome backs.
Barnaby didn't say anything. He simply walked up the ramp, and after a brief hesitation, Youri followed. Inside, the ship felt familiar in an unsettling way — the same sterile corridors and muted lights, the same quiet hum of systems that never stopped running. Barnaby paused just inside the entrance and turned back. "Go to the control room. I'll be there in a moment."
Youri nodded and went forward. He stood waiting in the middle of the wide room among its holographic displays and navigation panels with his hands at his sides, until Barnaby came in with a tablet in his hand and, without a word, tossed it to him. Youri caught it out of the air on reflex, and when he looked down at the screen, his brow furrowed.
Terrian Military Enrollment Form.
He looked up sharply. "What is this?"
Barnaby settled into the captain's chair with practiced ease. "You said you wanted to go to Volar."
"That doesn't answer my question."
"It answers all of them," Barnaby said. "This is the only way you're getting there now. Military clearance. Military transport. That was my offer last time, on the docks of Vegas. Did you forget?"
Youri looked back down at the tablet and began to scroll through it slowly, section after section passing beneath his fingers — personal details, physical evaluation, psychological screening, combat experience. He filled it out in silence with a face that gave nothing away. When he reached the last page, he stopped. Terrian Citizenship Status. He hesitated, then looked up. "I don't have Terrian citizenship."
Barnaby chuckled softly. "You can leave that part to me."
Youri studied him for a moment, then nodded and handed the tablet back. Barnaby skimmed through it and tapped a few confirmations. After a moment the screen flashed green.
"Well," Barnaby said, setting it aside. "That's about it. Welcome to the military, Youri Kronos."
Youri blinked. "Kronos?"
Barnaby smiled faintly. "You don't have a last name, and the whole of Vegas has been chanting that one for six months. I like how it sounds. Kronos. It fits — strong, memorable." He paused. "And it will remind you where you came from. Your underground days."
Youri thought of the cage and the lights, of Zeus asking him whether he knew who Zeus was, of the old myth of the Titan who had ruled before the gods. Then he gave a small nod. "Then Kronos it is."
The ship began to vibrate softly as its systems came online. Through the corridor windows the docking clamps released one by one, and the Khasano lifted slowly, its thrusters pushing it higher and higher until the city below began to shrink. Youri went and stood at one of the large observation windows and watched Laspeas fall away beneath him, its lights blurring together and its noise and chaos fading into a quiet glow against the dark.
For the first time since he had arrived there, he felt he truly understood what that city had been to him. It had taught him to fight, to gamble and to drink. It had given him a name, and friends he was leaving without a word, and enemies who would be asking after their money in the morning. And for all of that, it had only ever been a stop, and never a destination.
As the Khasano broke orbit and set its course, Vegas vanished entirely, swallowed by the curve of the planet. Ahead lay Terria — and somewhere beyond it, Volar.
Later that night, when the ship had settled into the long, steady hum of hyperspace, Barnaby showed him to a cabin, and Youri stopped in the doorway with a strange feeling in his chest. It was the same cabin. The same narrow bunk, the same small viewport, the same scuff on the wall beside the door, exactly where it had been on the long voyage from Altex to Laspeas, half a year before. His memory gave it all back to him in perfect detail, as it always did, whether he wanted it or not.
Barnaby noticed him hesitate. "Something wrong?"
"No," Youri said. "It's just the same room."
Barnaby leaned against the frame and looked around it as if he were seeing it for the first time. "I don't change things that work," he said. Then, after a moment, more quietly: "Get some sleep, Kronos. By the time we reach Terria, I want you able to stand up straight."
When he had gone, Youri lay down on the bunk with his ribs aching and his hands folded on his chest. He listened to the engines until the sound became the only thing in the world. For the first time in many nights, he slept without dreaming