Kayden made his way to the 9th floor and found his old room. Everything looked refreshed from how he left it. He fondly looked at his coffee roaster and a bag of beans he’d acquired from Earth and put it down to look at his pictures. Pictures of him and his officer in command shaking hands and wearing nearly thirty medals on his armor. He went to his bedroom and realized he forgot his sleeping pills and ran back to his ship. There was a crew cleaning and prepping his ship already, and he snuck in and grabbed his bottle of pills.

“Leave the coffeemaker and the beans. And don’t touch my closet or the markings on the wall near it!” Kayden exclaimed at the crew, and they nodded. He sighed and walked out of his ship. Back in his bedroom, he took off his leather jacket and lay down on the bed, it was softer than he was used to, and he had a hard time falling asleep. A comms came in and alerted him. He rolled on his side and sat up facing the wall as he leaned forward and pressed a button on the wall near the bed. A projection lit up, and a Guardian appeared on it.

“Kayden, sir, it is an honor,” the Cyril said.

“What do you want, Guardian?” Kayden asked.

“The Squires and crewmen in training you sent us, I’m sending you their identification information now,” the Guardian said, and suddenly, seven cards came shooting down a tube in his living room. Kayden got to his feet and went to it, looking at each one of them. He saw Kavlia and Rio’s card. Rio was in a Squire’s uniform and Kavlia was in a crewmate’s uniform. He smiled.

“Thank you, Guardian, will that be all?” Kayden asked.

“Sir, combat ops have requested your presence tomorrow at 07:00 in the training grounds. Will you be there?” he asked. Kayden sighed while rubbing his chin.

“Yeah…I’ll be there,” he said. He put the identification cards on his table spread out and tapped it before walking back to his bed as the comms disappeared from the wall and the screen closed. Kayden lay down and took a sleeping pill after setting the alarm on his wristband for 05:00. As he drifted off, he started to dream. He awoke in a field of snow with more of it falling all around him. He walked in deeper and deeper mounds until he approached a man wearing a white fur coat with short blue hair and ice-blue eyes. The man turned to face him.

“I’ve finally found you, Varr Sither,” the man said in a chilly voice. Kayden just blinked.

“Varr Sither?” Kayden asked.

“Yes. That is who you truly are. It is who you’ve always been,” the man said.

“Who are you?” Kayden asked.

“Lockren,” Lockren said. Kayden shuddered as even he was cold, which was strange because even space was not considered cold to a Cyril.

“It is time for you to stop dream walking and return to your real body. Come find us in Kastend, Varr Sither,” Lockren said before he tapped Kayden’s left wrist that was organic in his dream. A small spot began to ice over his flesh where Lockren touched. Kayden grimaced as it froze so coldly it burned. He woke to loud beeping, and he woke up in a panic as he looked all around for his alarm clock before it dawned on him; it was his wristband.

“Damnit, I hate these alarms,” he remarked as he input a code to stop the alarm. He sat upright as he felt in a daze from his dream. He looked at his sleeping pills and fretted, doubting that he actually took one the night prior. He thought on his dream and wondered why it was so strange. He combed back his bangs and sighed before scooting to the edge of the bed to get up. He had slept in his clothes; he was so disoriented from coming back on duty. He took his clothes off and headed into the shower, which was big enough for him with room to spare. He reminisced about his showers with Felicia and the intimate moments they had, and he paused and leaned against the wall. A green glowing swirl on his right shoulder blade stood out on his body, a birthmark all Cyril people shared in common but in different places on their bodies sometimes. However, they were never on their faces or hands since it itself was actually the source of their mana reserve—if it were on their face or hand, it would kill them. He continued washing with soap on his scar-riddled torso.

“I’ve had over a hundred chances to die, and not a single one worked…are Cyril really that hardy?” he asked aloud as he wrapped a towel around his waist and looked in the mirror. He looked at his reflection after wiping the mirror clean with his organic hand and looked down.

He traced his finger down his forehead and across his eye to his nose and had two eyes and opened them, looking back into his reflection.

“It wasn’t a bad life…” He reminisced about Felicia and picnicking in the park with her until the rain came and they packed up. They ran for cover and came to the side of a convenience store, and he told her to wait there while he took the supplies to get the car to pick her up. Then he returned to find her bleeding in the rain. He opened his eyes and glared at his reflection and traced his finger back up his eye, making it one again, and sighed.

“Damn you, Kayden, all those centuries of protecting everyone else, and you couldn’t protect the one that mattered the most!” he cursed as he slammed his right fist against the sink and held onto it as he hunched forward and teared up.

“Damnit…” he cursed. He sniffled and rubbed his eye one last time, took off his towel, and approached his clothes. He got dressed, including the leg armor and his leather jacket with his weapons. He got a cup of coffee, left the room, and headed for the academy’s training grounds.