Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Darkness surrounded Lunar, but for the first time in his existence, he found no comfort in it.
The dimensional fold had torn him violently from Earth, his shadow essence compressed and stretched across the void before reforming aboard the Galaxy Brides vessel. That had been twenty-three Earth days ago. Twenty-three days of emptiness unlike anything he had experienced before.
He floated near the observation port, his form perfectly still as stars streaked past. Behind him, the ship hummed with activity. Bob and Gary chattered in their native tongue Dani and Solar engaged in what humans called relationship building. Lunar remained apart, as was his nature.
Yet solitude, once his preferred state, now felt hollow.
He did not want to be alone. In fact, it caused every speck of him to ache.
"You're doing that creepy statue thing again," Dani observed, appearing beside him with her characteristic human bluntness. "Solar says you haven't moved in six hours."
Lunar did not bother to correct her. It had been eight hours, seventeen minutes. "I am conserving energy."
"You're brooding," she countered. "And I get it. Really, I do."
He doubted that. How could she understand? She had Solar beside her. It had been her choice to accompany him rather than remain on Earth. She hadn't been forced to abandon the being who had fundamentally altered her existence.
"The Shadow Council will require detailed testimony regarding Milano's capabilities," he stated, deflecting from his emotional state. "I am organizing my observations."
A more accurate statement would be to say he was trying to piece together the mission logs he'd not finished on Earth.
Dani sighed. "For someone so smart, you can be really dense sometimes."
This assessment confused him. "I do not understand. My shadow essence is precisely calibrated for optimal perception."
"Exactly." She leaned against the viewport, forcing him to look at her. "You've barely spoken since we left Earth. Solar's worried about you, though he'd never say it. And I'm pretty sure you haven't processed a single emotion about leaving Poppy behind."
The name sent ripples through his essence, disturbing his carefully maintained composure. Poppy. Her warmth. Her perception. The way she had seen through his shadows from the very beginning. He felt an empty space where she belonged inside him.
"Processing emotions is not a shadow-dweller priority," he replied stiffly.
"And how's that working out for you?" Dani asked, her expression softening. "Because from where I'm standing, you're in pain. And you're not letting yourself feel it."
Pain. Yes, that was the correct designation.
A constant, gnawing absence where Poppy's energy signature had resonated with his own.
He had attempted to analyze this sensation using shadow intelligence protocols, categorizing and compartmentalizing.
But the emptiness persisted, immune to his analytical approach.
"I failed her," he admitted finally, the words emerging before he could suppress them.
Dani's eyebrows rose in surprise at his candor. "What do you mean?"
"I had calculated seventeen different scenarios where both of us could have escaped Milano's pursuit. I had developed tactical approaches that would have allowed me to remain on Earth while still warning Zorveya of the threat. But the extraction field's instability was unforeseen."
"You didn't have a choice," Dani pointed out. "If you hadn't stabilized the field, we all would have been scattered across dimensions."
"There is always a choice," Lunar countered. "I failed to identify the correct variables in time."
The truth was more complex than he could articulate. For a shadow operative trained to analyze every possibility and predict all threats, he had been blindsided by the simple reality of the extraction field's energy requirements.
A novice error. An unforgivable oversight. A failure.
His failure.
"You know what your real problem is?" Dani asked, interrupting his spiral of self-recrimination.
"Please enlighten me," he replied, allowing a thread of sarcasm to enter his tone. It was a habit acquired from Poppy.
"You're mad at yourself because you didn't tell her you loved her."
The accusation struck with precision, sending shock waves through his shadow essence. His form wavered momentarily before he regained control.
"That terminology is imprecise," he managed.
Dani smiled sadly. "No, it's not. And you know it. You love her. You just didn't say it."
She was correct, of course. In those final moments before the extraction field had claimed him, he had spoken of altered states and resonance frequencies. He had used the clinical language of shadow intelligence rather than the simple Earth words that might have comforted her.
I love you.
Three syllables. So small, yet containing multitudes.
"I told her I would return," he said instead.
"That's something, at least." Dani pushed off from the viewport. "And we will go back. All of us. Just, you know, don't shut down until then, okay? Poppy wouldn't want that."
After she left, Lunar remained at the viewport, stars streaking past as the ship approached Zorveya. He allowed himself, just for a moment, to imagine what he should have said.
"I love you, Poppy Jensen. Not as a tactical advantage or a statistical anomaly, but simply, completely, as one being to another.
I love your perception, your courage, your warmth.
I love how you move through darkness without fear, how you reached for my shadows when others would have recoiled.
I will return to you, not because duty demands it, but because existence without you is incomplete. "
The words formed perfectly in his consciousness, where they could no longer reach her.
He should have said it. All of it.
Four more days passed before Zorveya appeared on the ship's sensors.
The tidal-locked planet hung in space like a visual representation of conflict.
One hemisphere blazed with eternal day, the other was shrouded in perpetual night, and between them was the narrow twilight band where Eclipse had lived.
"Home sweet home," Solar remarked as they prepared for planetary approach. His tone suggested the designation was as inaccurate for him as it now felt for Lunar.
"The council has acknowledged our arrival," Gary announced, checking the communication panel. "They have instructed us to proceed directly to the Shadow Chambers for debriefing."
"That is unexpected," Lunar observed. Protocol dictated initial processing through neutral Twilight Belt facilities.
"They are eager for your intelligence regarding Earth," Solar said. "The darkness will be unpleasant, but I did not protest the landing coordinates. I know you must be eager to finish your mission so we can return."
The gesture was not lost on Lunar.
"Perhaps," Lunar agreed.
As they descended through Zorveya's atmosphere toward the dark side of the planet, Lunar felt the familiar pull of his homeworld's energy patterns.
The shadowed territory of Lunaris welcomed him.
The perfect darkness a balm after the excessive light of Earth and the artificial illumination of the Galaxy Brides vessel.
Yet something had changed. Where once he had found the absolute darkness comforting, now it felt meaningless. Lacking the subtle variations of Earth's night, the interplay of moonlight and shadow that had created such complex patterns. Lacking Poppy's warmth to define its edges.
The landing platform extended from the Council Citadel, a massive structure built into the side of a mountain range that further shielded it from any stray light from the Twilight Belt.
As they disembarked, Lunar noted the formal reception.
Six council representatives waited with their shadow essences condensed into ceremonial configurations.
"Intelligence Specialist Lunar," the head councilor acknowledged. "Your return is noted with appropriate recognition."
The formal greeting followed shadow protocol perfectly, yet Lunar found himself craving the informal warmth of Earth greetings. A simple "welcome home" or even Poppy's casual "hey you" would have carried more genuine connection than this ritualized acknowledgment.
"Light-Dweller Solar and Earth-Entity Dani," the councilor continued, with noticeably less enthusiasm. "Your presence is accommodated."
Solar's light flared slightly at the dismissive tone. "We come bearing critical intelligence regarding threats to Zorveya's security."
Dani wore a tight space suit provided by Galaxy Brides.
It outlined her curves in a way that drew the attention of some of the council.
They had visits from contained entities on the planet, but they were always a curiosity.
Since the atmosphere was compatible with Earth, she didn't need a helmet to breathe.
"Yes," the councilor replied. "The council will hear this intelligence immediately."
They were escorted through the Citadel's winding corridors, deeper into the mountain where the darkness was absolute.
Lunar moved with practiced ease, his shadow essence attuned to the subtle variations in pressure and temperature that guided navigation.
Solar's light created an unwelcome glow around him, while Dani relied on that light to find her way through the darkness.
When they reached the council chamber, two guards stopped Dani from entering.
"It will be dark, but you will be safe," Solar told her. "I can feel you."
She frowned, but nodded.
The council chamber was designed to emphasize power disparities.
The twelve council members occupied elevated positions around a circular depression where petitioners stood exposed from all sides.
Lunar had been in this chamber three times before, each occasion related to intelligence mission assignments. Never had it felt so oppressive.