The station was quiet that night, the massive railgun above humming in low tones as if it were whispering to the stars. Most of the crew were either resting or busy maintaining the systems, but deep within the command level, in the heart of the station, Kiana moved with ghostlike grace—barefoot, silent, purposeful.

  Vermond sat alone in the observation lounge, the stars sprawling endlessly before him, his thoughts clouded with everything: the railgun, the war, the Federation, Jard’s theories… the cleanser, the way Stitch disappeared… and Kiana.

  He didn’t hear her come in. He didn’t need to. He felt her before he saw her—like the soft tug of gravity when something beautiful and dangerous pulls too close.

  Then arms wrapped around his shoulders from behind. Gentle. Possessive.

  "Big brother," her voice was soft, airy, a whisper that lingered longer than it should’ve. "You're always here… thinking again. Planning again. But what about me?"

  Vermond didn’t move. “Kiana, it's late. You should be—”

  “I’m not tired,” she whispered, her fingers trailing along the side of his neck, tracing him like a map she had memorized a thousand times. “I just want to be near you.”

  He turned slightly, meeting her eyes. Her emerald gaze glowed faintly in the dim light—glowing with something more than soul energy. A hunger. A possessiveness that shimmered just beneath her soft smile.

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  She moved in front of him and sat on his lap, without asking, straddling him with slow, deliberate confidence. Her white hair spilled over his shoulders like silk.

  “You keep forgetting,” she said, placing her hands on his chest. “I’m not your little sister, Vermond.”

  He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. “Kiana…”

  She leaned closer, her lips inches from his. “I love you, Big Brother. More than anyone. More than anything. More than this station, this galaxy, this… power. I don’t care if you raise an army of a billion undead. You’re still mine.”

  “Kiana, you—”

  “I killed Stitch for you,” she whispered, her smile never fading. “You think I’ll stop there? Anyone who wants you, touches you, even thinks about loving you—I’ll erase them. You’re not allowed to leave me. Not anymore.”

  The words were terrifying. Beautiful. Unhinged. Obsessive. And yet... Vermond couldn’t look away.

  “I dreamed about you long before the powers,” she continued, voice sweet but chilling. “You were always gentle. Always kind. Always distant. I hated that.”

  Her fingers gently cupped his face. “So I’ve decided. If I can’t have a part of you—then I’ll take all of you.”

  Then she kissed him.

  It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t innocent. It was deep, raw, consuming. It was a kiss that claimed him.

  When she pulled back, her lips were flushed. “See? You didn’t stop me. You want this too. Don’t you?”

  Vermond stared at her, stunned into silence, heart pounding like never before. The railgun, the station, the galaxy—all of it felt far away.

  “I’ll protect you,” she whispered. “I’ll love you. I’ll kill for you. But you’re never allowed to leave me. Not even in death.”

  She leaned close again, her breath warm on his skin. “Say it.”

  “…Say what?” Vermond’s voice was weak, breathless.

  “That I belong to you. And you belong to me.”

  For a moment, there was only silence… until Vermond closed his eyes and said, very softly:

  “…You belong to me. And I belong to you.”

  Her smile turned divine. Her eyes closed, satisfied.

  Then she hugged him tight, her heartbeat thudding against his. “Good boy,” she whispered.

  Outside, the stars blinked cold and distant. But inside that room, the real danger wasn’t the weapon above their heads…

  It was the girl in his arms.