Page 30 of Xara and the Xenobeast

The voice continued, and amidst the alien syllables, she caught what sounded like a few words in English.

“—subject shows remarkable?—”

Her breath caught. “That was English! How is that possible?”

Except... she’d understood the few words Ash said. Perhaps the alien who’d taken her had provided some type of translation implant.

The words disappeared in a wave of static and she tried to fine-tune the settings further, her hands shaking with excitement. The next file played, and while much of it remained unintelligible, she could make out more words:

“—adaptive capabilities beyond expected parameters?—”

She continued adjusting settings, playing file after file, gleaning fragments of understanding from the sea of alien speech. Mostseemed to be research notes or reports, mentioning terms like “adaptation trials” and “combat efficiency.”

Then she found a file that made her blood run cold.

“Project: K-7 final assessment,” the mechanical voice intoned, clearer than any previous recording. “Subject refused to execute target purge despite direct neural override. Primary conditioning failed. Secondary failsafes bypassed. Subject deemed defective and dangerous. Recommendation: immediate termination.”

Her hands trembled as she tapped to the next file.

“Termination order overruled by High Command. Subject to be permanently exiled to quarantine planet XK-13. All communication channels severed. Asset officially decommissioned.”

The tablet slipped from her fingers, clattering to the stone floor. The pups squeaked in alarm, huddling against her legs.

“Oh my god,” she whispered, staring at the device. “They were talking about him.”

Everything clicked into place. The way he moved—precise, lethal, but always controlled. His understanding of her language despite never speaking.

He was engineered—created as a weapon—and when he refused to kill, they’d cast him out and abandoned him on this hellish planet to die alone.

But he hadn’t died. He’d survived and built a life in the ruins of whatever this place had been.

And when she’d crashed here—injured, vulnerable, an easy target—he could have ignored her. He could even have killed her. Instead, he’d chosen to save her and to care for her.

Just as he’d chosen not to kill whoever those “targets” had been. She clutched the tablet to her chest, tears blurring her vision. Dot nuzzled her hand, sensing her distress.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, stroking her head. “I’m just... processing.”

A shadow fell across the chamber entrance, and she looked up to see him standing there, his silver eyes gleaming in the dim light, his powerful form silhouetted against the passage.

How long had he been watching? Had he heard the recordings? Did he know what she’d discovered?

She rose slowly, still clutching the tablet. The pups chirped, scampering toward him, but he remained motionless, his gaze fixed on her face.

“You were made to be a weapon.” She took a step toward him. “But you chose not to be.”

His sensory tendrils coiled tighter, a reaction she now recognized as tension or discomfort.

“They exiled you because you wouldn’t kill.” Another step. “Because you showed mercy.”

His massive chest rose and fell with his breathing but he said nothing.

“Just as you chose to save me.”

She reached out, her hand hovering inches from his chest. He could step back and retreat into the shadows as he had so many times before.

Instead, he remained still, allowing her to close the distance. Her palm pressed against his chest, feeling the powerful heart beneath the warm skin, the luminescent patterns brightening at the contact.

“Thank you,” she whispered, tears spilling down her cheeks. “For choosing me.”

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