Tatehan stared at her for five whole seconds, then he said with a smile:

"Guess I'm built different."

The commander's expression suddenly swayed somewhere between confusion and disbelief.

"Built different?" she repeated flatly.

Tatehan shrugged, his smile widening slightly.

"How did you do what you did?" she pressed, her tone growing more insistent.

"Magic," Tatehan said simply.

The word hung in the air between them.

Magic?

The commander blinked.

"Magic," she said slowly, like she was testing the word to see if it made more sense the second time.

"Yep," Tatehan said, maintaining his casual tone. "Just... magic."

He knew how absurd he sounded. That was the point. If he kept deflecting with ridiculous non-answers, eventually she'd give up and stop asking. Because answering truthfully: telling her he had multiple abilities granted by a system, that his partial regeneration was healing him at an accelerated rate, that he was leveling up like some kind of video game character, would make him look like something else. Like something more and he didn't want that.

They already thought he was special. The footage of him killing Cherak in the air had ensured that. But that was only something to cement his reputation. He was already seen highly when he defeated Mub. It looked like something that would only happen in a myth.

How someone as little compared to Mub would use just one punch to kill the man.

It…it was mind-blowing!

It seemed like the David and Goliath stuff.

But that was only the beginning of how he could be revered. The fall had made him look like he wasn't from this planet even though that was the case.

Now, if they heard he had a system that granted him multiple abilities?

There was a difference between being seen as a skilled fighter and being seen as something fundamentally different. The former earned respect. The latter earned suspicion, fear and eventually, enemies.

Tatehan remembered something he used to hear back on Earth, back before all this:

"Let them think less of you. Let them underestimate what you're capable of. That way, when the battle comes, you've already won before they realize they're fighting."

Or something like that. Tatehan couldn't remember the exact wording, but the sentiment stuck.

Better to be underestimated than to paint a target on his back.

The commander stared at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable.

Then she sighed and waved a hand dismissively.

"Fine," she said. "Keep your secrets."

Tatehan smiled at that and she noticed.

She turned and walked back to her desk, pulling up a holographic interface.

"I sent some money to your account," she said, her tone shifting back to business. "You performed excellently during the mission. I doubled the initial amount I was planning to pay you."

Tatehan blinked, surprised.

"Wait, you—"

He remembered now. She'd told him to open a bank account after the mission briefing. He'd done it with Riven's help, provided the account details, and then promptly forgot about it in the chaos of everything that followed.

"T-thank you," he stammered, genuinely caught off guard by the gesture.

The commander frowned, turning to look at him.

"Telling me 'thank you' is insulting," she said firmly. "I should be the one on the floor groveling and begging. You saved this city. The money is the least I can do."

Tatehan opened his mouth to respond, then closed it.

What do you even say to that?

The commander waved him off before he could come up with anything.

"Go," she said. "Rest and recover without magic."

Tatehan nodded slowly, smiling, then turned and left the office.

As Tatehan walked through the corridors of the Red Crest Clan base, his mind wandered.

He thought about the money sitting in his account, money he couldn't even check without going to a terminal or visiting the bank in person.

If only this place was more like Earth.

If he had a real phone, something he could carry with him, check transfers on, send messages with, life would be so much easier. Back on Earth, even in his time, everyone had smartphones with banking apps. You could manage your entire financial life from a device in your pocket.

But here? On Mars? In this supposedly advanced, futuristic society?

Nothing.

Tsk. Tsk.

It was ridiculous. How could a place this technologically advanced be missing something so basic?

Or... maybe it wasn't missing.

Tatehan paused, his brow furrowing.

Actually, now that he thought about it, a place as futuristic as this ought to have personal communication devices. Hell, when he'd fallen and landed in that crater, the crowd had been recording him with something. Handheld devices. Small, sleek things that looked like they could do a hell of a lot more than just record video.

So phones, or whatever they called them here, definitely existed.

Maybe they were just expensive? Maybe most people couldn't afford them, so they weren't as ubiquitous as they'd been on Earth?

Or maybe he just hadn't been paying attention.

Tatehan made a mental note to look into it.

And he knew exactly who to ask.

———

The dining hall was nearly empty when Tatehan arrived.

It was early, too early for most of the soldiers to be awake, especially after the chaos of the past few days. The fortress assault had taken its toll on everyone, and most of the strike team was either still recovering in the medical wing or sleeping off their exhaustion in their quarters.

But Lyra was there.

She sat alone at one of the long tables near the windows, a tray of food in front of her. Her posture was relaxed, but her eyes were alert, scanning a datapad propped against her cup.

Tatehan grabbed his own tray from one of the members of the clan who served meals, some kind of protein bar, a bowl of what looked of oatmeal and a cup of coffee, and walked over.

"Mind if I sit?" he asked.

Lyra looked up, then smiled faintly and gestured to the seat across from her.

"Go ahead," she said.

Tatehan sat, setting his tray down and taking a sip of the coffee. It was bitter, kinda sweet, not terrible actually. He could work with it.

For a moment, they ate in silence, the only sounds were the clinking of utensils.

Then Tatehan asked:

Do you guys have phones here?" Tatehan asked. "Like, personal communication devices? Something you can carry around, check messages on and make calls with?"

Lyra blinked, clearly not expecting that question.

"You mean comm devices?" she said.

"Yes," Tatehan said. "Comm devices... I have one though but it's only for sending and receiving messages and making calls."

Lyra nodded.

"Yeah. Everyone has one. Well, almost everyone. They're standard issue for Red Crest Clan members, but civilians have to buy them."

"I know the common ones, like I said I have one too, what of the mobile phones ones," Tatehan asked. He didn't know if it was called mobile phones on Mars but he would take the risk.

"Yes, there are ones like that," Lyra replied. "For having your banking app, gaining access to the internet and stuffs like that."

Tatehan's eyes widened.

The internet?

Hell yeah!

"How much do they cost?" Tatehan asked.

Lyra shrugged.

"Depends on the model. Basic ones are cheap but expensive if you get what I mean," she smiled.

"But the nicer ones, the ones with extended range, really cool holographic features and all that fancy stuff are more expensive."

Tatehan nodded slowly, processing.

They fell into silence again, eating for a few more minutes.

Then Tatehan asked the question that had been nagging at him since yesterday.

"How's Riven?" he said.

Lyra glanced up, her expression softening slightly.

"She left early this morning," she said. "Before dawn. Said she had things to take care of."

Tatehan frowned.

"She was still injured," he said.

"Not severely," Lyra said. "The medics cleared her. Said she'd be sore for a few days, but nothing that would stop her from moving around. The injury wasn't so severe."

Tatehan nodded slowly, though he couldn't help but feel some bit of concern.

Riven had fought hard during the assault. She'd taken a nasty hit to her side, and while she'd tried to play it off as nothing serious, Tatehan had seen the blood seeping through her armor.

But if the medics had cleared her, then she was probably fine.

Probably…

Tatehan went on to explain how one of his chakrams got destroyed.

"There are replacements in the weapons room," she said. "Lots of different styles. We can head over after breakfast if you want."

"Thanks," Tatehan said. "Y'know, I got those chakrams from your father," he added quietly.

Lyra froze, her fork halfway to her mouth.

For a moment, she didn't move. She also did not speak either. Then, slowly, she set the fork down and looked away, her jaw tightening.

"He gave them to you?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Not exactly," he said. "I picked it from the floor after he died."

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