Luna's POV
Luna was still savoring the last bite of Ren's homemade hotcakes when he reached for the wall-mounted news display. Their breakfast routine had become one of her favorite parts of the day—Ren's careful attention as he fed her, the easy conversation, the way they'd settled into comfortable domesticity.
"Mind if I check the morning news?" Ren asked, already activating the display. "I like to stay updated on what's happening in the city."
"Of course," Luna said, though something cold settled in her stomach. She'd been avoiding news reports for days, afraid of what she might see.
The News Channel flickered to life, and the anchor's serious face filled the screen.
"Good morning. I'm Sarah Truesar with breaking updates on the ongoing terrorist manhunt. Today marks day seven since the devastating attack on the Merina District facility, and authorities are expressing growing concern about the unusual silence from revolutionary forces."
Luna's mood relaxed somewhat hearing her compatriots followed the proper protocols, but she forced her expression to remain neutral.
"Security analyst Dr. Marcus Webb joins us now with his assessment. Dr. Webb, what should we make of this unprecedented quiet period?"
The camera shifted to a man in expensive clothing sitting across from the anchor. "Sarah, this silence speaks to the effectiveness of our government's decisive action. Once authorities demonstrate real commitment to rooting out these terrorist cells, these fringe movements quickly lose their nerve."
They think we're afraid, Luna realized with a mix of relief and frustration. They have no idea why we've really gone quiet.
"So you believe the recent raids measures are working?"
"Absolutely. These revolutionary groups thrive on chaos and the perception that they can act with impunity. But when faced with serious consequences—real manhunts, enhanced interrogation protocols, extended detention—they scatter like rats. They simply don't dare to act when they know the government means business."
Ren made a dismissive sound. "These talking heads always make everything sound more dramatic than it is."
Luna nodded, not trusting her voice.
"In related news," the anchor continued, "Director Harrison Vex announced the expansion of Operation Clean Sweep, targeting not just active revolutionaries but anyone suspected of providing aid, comfort, or resources to terrorist organizations."
The screen filled with footage of armored vehicles and heavily armed security forces moving through various districts. Luna recognized some of the locations—areas where her people operated safe houses.
"The new protocols authorize enhanced interrogation techniques and extended detention without trial for suspected conspirators. Director Vex stated that the government will use 'every tool at our disposal' to root out the terrorist network."
Enhanced interrogation. Extended detention. Luna's hands would have been shaking if she'd had them.
"Honestly," Ren said, shaking his head, "I don't understand why they can't just address the underlying problems instead of escalating the violence. But I guess that's too complicated for politicians."
Luna forced herself to nod again, though her mind was reeling. Viktor, Zara, Diego, Ana—were they safe? Had any of their people been caught in these sweeps? But she clearly hadn't seen any sweeps lately... had she?
Two days ago...
Luna had been dozing in the late afternoon when the doorbell rang. She'd heard Ren go downstairs to answer it, and voices had drifted up—voices from police officers that had made her blood run cold.
"Good afternoon, sir. We're conducting routine inquiries in the neighborhood regarding the ongoing terrorist investigation."
"Of course," Ren had replied, his voice calm and pleasant. "How can I help?"
"Have you noticed any unusual activity in the area? Strangers, suspicious behavior, anything out of the ordinary?"
"Nothing comes to mind, but I spend most of my time in my workshop. I'm not the most observant neighbor, I'm afraid."
"That's perfectly understandable, sir. We appreciate your cooperation."
"Officer Chen, we should check the—" a younger voice had started.
"We're finished here," an older voice cut him off firmly. "Thank you for your time, sir. If you do notice anything suspicious, please don't hesitate to contact us."
"Absolutely."
Luna had heard the door close, followed by Ren's footsteps on the stairs. When he'd checked on her, he'd seemed perfectly relaxed.
"Everything okay?" she'd asked.
"Just some police doing routine checks about the terrorist thing. Nothing to worry about."
But later, lying awake, Luna had heard voices from neighboring houses—louder, more aggressive. Doors being forced open. Shouts, complaints and some sounds of struggle.
In the other houses, they'd been breaking down doors. But they'd been polite to Ren. Too respectful even. The older officer had even stopped the younger one from taking action.
Why? What makes him different? He seems wealthy, but there must be other wealthy people in this district.
The realization had been both relief and mystery. Ren had some kind of protection, some reason the police treated him with kid gloves while brutalizing his neighbors.
~ ~ ~
Now, sitting in his leisure room after watching news about "enhanced interrogation" and "undefined detention," Luna felt the full weight of that protection. She was safe here not just because Ren was kind, but because he had some kind of influence or connections that made him untouchable.
What does that make me? Hiding behind the privilege of someone who might be connected to the very system my army is fighting against?
The news moved on to other stories, but Luna barely heard them. All she could think about was her legion commanders trying to hold everything together while she lay in comfort, eating homemade hotcakes and playing games with her crush.
I have to get back to them.
But even as the thought formed, Luna felt the familiar conflict rise in her chest. The prosthetic arms weren't ready and she would only demoralize them as she was now. She was still recovering. And leaving meant giving up this safe, peaceful life with Ren.
Selfish, she told herself. People are being arrested and tortured while you're here playing house.
"You look upset," Ren said gently, turning off the display. "I'm sorry - I should have thought about how this might affect you. You've probably had family or friends caught up in this mess, haven't you? Living in Sector 7... I can't imagine how scary all this must be."
If only you knew.
"It's just..." Luna searched for safe words. "It's hard to hear about people suffering."
"Hey," Ren said suddenly turning to look at her, seeming to shake off whatever she'd been thinking about. "Want to play some games? I thought we could try those other games instead today."
Luna smiled, grateful for his attempt to distract her. "That sounds nice."
Ren helped her stand and steady herself, then guided her carefully to the living room. The space was as elegant as the rest of the house—expensive furniture arranged around a large entertainment area with multiple displays and what looked like advanced gaming equipment.
"I was thinking we could try a new trivia game a new developer made," Ren said, retrieving the AR glasses. "It's should have a topic you'd like to compete with, so we could enjoy playing it to—"
The doorbell rang, cutting him off mid-sentence.
"That's weird," Ren muttered, checking the time. "I'm not expecting anyone."
Before he could move toward the door, they heard a key turning in the lock, followed by footsteps.
"Ren! There you are, you hermit. I've been trying to reach you for days!"
A tall, energetic-looking guy with dark red hair burst into the living room, then stopped short when he saw Luna standing beside Ren.
"Oh," the newcomer said, his eyes widening as he took in Luna's obvious injuries and the way Ren was with her in the living room. "I... didn't realize you had company."
"Marcus," Ren said, looking slightly panicked, "this is Luna. Luna, this is Marcus, my... persistent best friend."
"The one who has a key to your house, apparently," Luna said, trying to lighten the suddenly awkward mood.
Marcus grinned, his initial surprise quickly replaced by obvious curiosity and delight. "Holy shit, you're real. I mean—sorry, I didn't mean to swear. It's just, Ren disappearing for days, not answering calls, and now I find him with a beautiful woman..."
"Marcus," Ren warned, his cheeks reddening.
"What? It's a valid question!" Marcus looked between them with growing amusement. "Luna, has he been romantic to you, or do I need to give him pointers? Because this guy's track record with women is pretty much nonexistent if not catastrophic."
"Oh my god," Ren muttered, covering his face with one hand. "Please just... don't."
Luna felt her own cheeks burn, but she was reassured by Marcus's obvious care for his friend. "He's been very... gentlemanly."
"Gentlemanly," Marcus repeated, then burst out laughing. "That's Ren-speak for 'I'm too scared to make a move.' Luna, you should know that this guy once spent three months building a girl a custom robot instead of just asking her out."
"That was my first time confessing!" Ren protested, his face now completely red. "And it wasn't—she never even—why are you like this?" he finished saying exasperated.
"Because someone has to save you from your own social awkwardness man," Marcus said cheerfully. "Though judging by the cozy domestic scene I just walked into, maybe you're finally figuring it out."
Ren made a sound somewhere between a groan and a sigh, but Luna could see he wasn't really upset. There was something fond in his expression, even through the embarrassment.
"Anyway," Marcus continued, "I came over because you missed boys' night, you haven't answered my messages, and Sarah Peterson actually asked me if you were dead. But now I see you've been busy playing house with Luna here."
"I'm recovering from some injuries," Luna said, gesturing toward her bandaged shoulders. "Ren's been helping me."
Marcus's expression sobered as he really looked at her condition for the first time. "Jesus, what happened to you?"
"Wrong place, wrong time during the last terrorist attack," Luna said, sticking to her cover story.
"Damn, I'm sorry. But you're in good hands—this guy's scary good at any tech stuff. He could probably build you arms that are stronger than anything on the military, if he wanted to."
Ren perked up slightly, some of his embarrassment fading. "Actually, I'm already working on that."
"Of course you are," Marcus said with fond exasperation. "Because you're a show-off who can't resist proving he's smarter than everyone else. Speaking of which, there's been some corporate interest in your synthetic organ research. Something about a high-priority client?"
Ren's expression darkened immediately. "I told them I don't have enough data yet. Unless they want to use their client as a guinea pig."
"Yeah, he mentioned you said that. Actually..." Marcus pulled out his phone. "I was asked to call Adrian if I saw you. Something about being urgent."
"Marcus, don't—"
But Marcus was already dialing. The phone rang once before a voice answered—cold, authoritative, clearly from someone in a position of power.
"Marcus? Did you find him?"
"Hey, Adrian. Yeah, he's right here. Something about synthetic organs?"
"Put him on."
Marcus held out the phone with a sheepish grin. Ren took it reluctantly, his jaw already tense.
"Adrian."
"Finally. I need those synthetic hearts, Ren. The client is getting impatient."
"I told you that the hearts have a final hurdle, and I don't have enough testing data. The integration success rate is still only seventy percent in simulations and problems should arise after some months of use."
"So run more tests. Use some volunteers from the lower districts. They're expendable, and it's not like most of them have other options for medical care."
Luna felt her blood turn to ice. Use people from the lower districts as test subjects.
Ren's face went white with anger. "Absolutely not."
"Ren, be practical. These people are going to die eventually from their injuries or poverty. At least this way their deaths would serve a purpose."
"No," Ren said, his voice sharp with fury. "I'm not using human beings as guinea pigs. Your client can fucking wait until I get the simulations done properly."
"You're being childish—"
"I'm being ethical. Find another solution or wait for me to finish the research. Those are your options."
Ren hung up and handed the phone back to Marcus, who was looking impressed.
"Damn, I don't think I've ever heard you swear at Adrian like that before."
"He wanted me to test experimental medical technology that has shown problems on poor people," Ren said, still angry. "That's not research, it's murder."
Luna stared at him, her mind reeling. Here was Ren, connected to powerful corporate interests, refusing to exploit the very people her revolutionary army was fighting to protect.
"Yeah, that's pretty fucked up, even for corporate types," Marcus agreed. "Good for you for telling him off."
Ren ran a hand through his hair, visibly trying to calm down. "Sorry you had to hear that, Luna. My work connections can be... quite insensitive."
"Don't worry about it," Luna said quietly, though her mind was spinning with implications.
"Well," Marcus said, glancing between them and clearly sensing the shift in mood, "I can see you're busy with more important things than my social calendar. Luna, it was really nice meeting you. And Ren?" He grinned. "Call me when you want to hang out or play games or something. Just maybe warn me next time if you're going to have company."
"How about you try calling first instead of using your key?" Ren suggested dryly.
"Where's the fun in that?" Marcus winked at Luna. "Take care of him, will you? And don't let him get too caught up in his workshop and forget to actually talk to you."
"I'll keep that in mind," Luna said, smiling despite the tension.
"Seriously though," Marcus added, his tone becoming more sincere, "you're good for him. I haven't seen him this... I don't know, present? He's usually half lost in whatever project he's working on."
After Marcus left, the living room felt strangely quiet. Luna was processing everything she'd just learned, trying to reconcile the Ren she'd come to care about with the reality of his powerful connections.
"Luna," Ren said carefully, settling back beside her on the couch, "I should probably explain some things."
"You're connected to major corporate interests," Luna said it clearly probing.
Ren nodded. "Among other things, yes."
"That's how you could save me. How you can build things that shouldn't exist."
"Yeah."
Luna studied his face, looking for signs of deception or hidden agendas. But all she saw was the same gentle, caring person who'd been taking care of her for days.
"Why didn't you tell me about your connections?"
"Because they don't define who I am," Ren said simply. "I may work with corporate research divisions, but I'm not them, Luna. I don't make weapons or design systems to hurt people. I work on medical technology, life-improvement devices, things that help rather than harm."
"But you work for corporations."
"I work for myself. They just happen to fund my research and manufacturing." Ren leaned back against the couch. "I know what people think about corporate interests. Some of it's probably deserved. But I'm trying to use my position to make things better, not worse."
Luna felt something shift inside her chest. This wasn't the corporate lackey she'd expected to hate. This was someone who'd refused to test experimental technology on the poor, who'd cursed at a powerful executive rather than compromise his ethics.
"What do you think about the revolution?" she asked quietly. "About what's happening in the city?"
Ren was quiet for a moment, considering his words.
"Honestly? I think both sides have valid points. For one the government and corporations have a lot to answer for. People in the lower districts are suffering while the wealthy live in luxury. That's not sustainable or ethical."
Luna's heart started beating faster.
"But at the same time," Ren continued, "I don't think violence is the answer. The revolutionaries are fighting for justice, but they're also killing innocent people and destroying infrastructure that everyone depends on."
We try to minimize civilian casualties, Luna wanted to say. But sometimes collateral damage is unavoidable.
"What would you prefer?" she asked instead.
"Reform from within. Using technology and resources to improve conditions for everyone rather than fighting over who gets to control the existing system." Ren shook his head. "Though I guess that's naive. Real change probably requires more dramatic action."
"Do you think the revolutionaries are terrorists?"
"I think they're people who've been pushed to extremes by an unjust system. Whether that makes them terrorists or freedom fighters depends on your perspective." He looked at her curiously. "Why do you ask?"
Luna realized she was treading dangerous ground. "I just... in Sector 7, you hear different viewpoints than what's on the news."
"I bet. The news aren't exactly unbiased."
Luna felt herself at a crossroads. Here was Ren, showing more understanding and moral complexity than she'd expected from someone in his position. Part of her wanted to tell him everything—who she was, what she believed, why this mattered so much.
He might understand. He might even want to help us.
"The thing is," Ren continued with a sigh, "even if the revolutionaries win, what happens then? They'll be the ones in power, making the same difficult decisions, facing the same pressures. Power has proven to corrupt people regardless of their original intentions."
Luna felt her heart sink. There it was—the cynicism that would make him doubt her cause even if he knew the truth.
He thinks we'd become just as corrupt as the current system.
"Maybe," she said quietly. "But some people genuinely want to make things better."
"Maybe," Ren agreed. "I truly hope so. For everyone's sake."
The conversation lapsed into silence, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Luna was struggling with the realization that Ren was more complex than she'd stereotyped before of corporate engineers—an evil corporate inventor caring only for his interests.
Instead she found out he was just... human. Someone trying to do good work within a flawed system, someone with his own moral principles and limitations.
And someone I've fallen for already, despite everything.
The thought hit her like a physical blow. Sitting here, listening to him wrestle with the same moral questions that kept her awake at night, seeing him refuse to compromise his ethics even when pressured by powerful people...
I'm in love with him.
The realization should have been terrifying. Instead, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.