They took Ryu back to the safehouse.
He was in a medically-induced coma, a network of tubes and wires connecting him to Joric's diagnostic machines.
The monitors painted a grim picture, displaying a dozen different metrics all trending downwards. He was a flickering candle in a hurricane.
Kiera stood by his bedside for hours, her face a mask of turmoil.
The choice before her was a poisoned blade with two edges. On one side was Ryu, the boy who had, against all odds, saved her.
He was a symbol of hope, a walking, breathing miracle who represented a power beyond the comprehension of her clan.
He was also her responsibility, a debt she felt in her bones.
On the other side was her brother. His face, his smile, the memory of his laughter, it all fueled the fire of her vengeance.
Her power, her skill as a warrior of the Azure Dragons, was the only tool she had to bring his killers to justice.
To give up a significant portion of that power would be to give up on him, to let his murder go unpunished.
It felt like a betrayal of the highest order.
She paced the length of the safehouse, her mind a battlefield.
Joric's words echoed in her thoughts.
"Kill them both, instantly and painfully." "Permanently weakened." "Never again be the warrior they once were."
She went to the training room and picked up her sword.
It felt heavy in her hand, heavier than it ever had before. She moved through her forms, the familiar dance of steel and air.
But her movements were clumsy, her focus shattered. Every parry, every thrust, was a question.
Could she still do this if she was weaker? Could she still face down a monster like Silas?
Could she still find the ones who gave the order?
Joric found her there, her blade resting on her shoulder, her head bowed in exhaustion.
"The choice is not as simple as you think," he said quietly.
"If the boy dies, the Vanguard will not stop looking for the source of the energy they detected. They will tear this sector apart. They will find this place. They will find *you*. And in your current state, with your grief and your anger, you are exactly the kind of warrior they love to break and corrupt."
He let the words sink in.
"Saving him is not just about him. It's about you. It's about honor. What would your brother want you to do? Would he want you to become a vengeful ghost, consumed by a hunt that could lead to your own damnation? Or would he want you to save an innocent life, to uphold the very ideals he died for?"
Suddenly, an alarm blared from the medical bay.
A shrill, insistent beep. Kiera and Joric rushed back to find Ryu convulsing, the monitors beside his bed flashing critical warnings.
His body was rejecting the stabilizers.
A massive, uncontrolled surge of ChainForce was building within him, threatening to tear him apart from the inside.
"He's crashing!" Joric yelled, scrambling to prepare another injector.
"I can't hold him! We're out of time!"
Kiera looked at Ryu's contorted face, his body wracked with a pain she couldn't imagine.
She looked at the flashing red lights, a countdown to his death. And in that moment, the choice was no longer a choice.
It was a certainty. Her brother was gone.
But Ryu was here.
And she would not let another person die on her watch.
"Do it," she said to Joric, her voice ringing with a conviction that chased away all doubt.
"Do the transfusion. Now."