Neville’s consciousness drifted in and out. One moment, he was acutely aware of the steady beeping of the life pod. The next thing he knew, he was floating somewhere between waking and dreaming, his body pressed against Grayson’s sleeping body.

[Host, oxygen levels have dropped to 23%. I recommend conserving energy,] Shelly said mechanically. [Would you like me to refill it again?]

Neville nodded and spent another set of points keeping them alive. The 45 minutes turned into hours until he couldn’t tell the time anymore.

He wanted to tell her that he was already conserving energy. But he couldn’t help but focus on the warmth radiating from Grayson’s body. He was confirming if he was still alive and breathing.

The life pod swayed suddenly, and Neville’s fingers instinctively curled into the fabric of Grayson’s shirt. Outside the small reinforced glass window, the stars continued their endless, indifferent dance.

How long had they been drifting around?

[Host, I’m detecting an incoming mecha!] Shelly reported excitedly. [Looks like it came from the company!]

Neville tried to sit up, but his body felt so heavy. "Fi...finally?"

[It seemed that they had difficulty in finding the position of the life pod because you’re 120% away from the last signal.]

"So we’ve been playing hide and seek in the galaxy all this time?" Neville retorted weakly.

[╮(╯▽╰)╭]

A metallic clang reverberated through the life pod. Neville’s breath caught in his throat as the pressure seals hissed.

Then, the hatch burst open, flooding the cramped space with artificial light that made Neville’s eyes water. Through his blurred vision, he made out a familiar silhouette.

"Sir Seaton," Neville croaked out, relief washing over him.

Julius immediately ransacked the life pod. His hands moved to check Bryan’s pulse first, then Grayson’s, and finally landed on Neville’s shoulder. His grip was probably meant to be reassuring, but mostly it just hurts.

"We’ve been searching for three days," Julius said, his voice tight.

"...fried." Neville managed to explain weakly.

Three days? Has it been three days? What about his quest?

Shelly secretly opened the holographic screen of the system and showed him, [D-0]

Since it was in D-0 and not completed, it was still unconfirmed whether Grayson would survive this.

Julius’s eyes swept over Grayson’s unconscious body. Something dangerous flickered in the depths of his eyes.

"What happened to him?" he asked.

Neville tried to recall the scene where he rescued Grayson. "I saw him awake and fighting. Then he fell, then he hasn’t woken up until then."

Julius’s jaw clenched.

"We need to move. Now. Stewart needs medical attention, and the boss—" He cut himself off, but Neville understood.

It seemed that Grayson needed more than just any ordinary hospital.

Two other men appeared behind Julius, whose names Neville didn’t know and couldn’t be bothered to remember.

"Take him first," Neville said, his voice steadier than before. "Bryan needs immediate care."

They moved toward Bryan, lifting him away.

Julius nodded, barking orders at his team. But when he turned back to reach for Grayson, he found an unexpected obstacle.

Neville hadn’t let go. His fingers were still curled into Grayson’s shirt, knuckles white, grip iron despite the trembling of his exhausted muscles.

"Mr. Hope," Julius said carefully, "I need to move Mr. Maxwell."

"I’m coming with you."

"You need medical attention, too. There’s a medical station on the nearest planet—"

"I said," Neville interrupted, meeting Julius’s eye with an intense gaze that surprised them both, "I’m coming with you."

For a long moment, the two men stared at each other. The power dynamic should have been obvious, but Julius looked away first.

"Fine," he said gruffly. "But we’re running out of time. Mr. Maxwell needs to get back to Xylos—there’s a private facility there, doctors who know his... condition."

Condition. It seemed that there was something really wrong with Grayson.

"Then let’s go," Neville said.

The transfer was a blur of motion.

Bryan was loaded onto the rescue vessel first, then transferred to a smaller ship that would take him to the nearest planet with adequate medical facilities.

Neville barely heard him. His entire focus had narrowed towards Grayson and Grayson alone.

The emergency flight back to Xylos was the longest four hours of Neville’s life. He sat beside Grayson’s stretcher, refusing the medical attention the starship’s doctor tried to offer to him.

He refused the water and nutrient solutions that were practically shoved in his face. His hand found its way back to Grayson’s. His fingers intertwined with the alpha’s larger ones in a gesture that felt simultaneously natural and terrifying.

[Host,] Shelly gently said, [I need to tell you something important.]

’What is it?’

[I’ve been analyzing Mr. Maxwell’s condition. The physical readings are normal—heartbeat, respiration, neural activity. By all measurable standards, he should be awake by now.]

’But he’s not.’

[Exactly. Because the problem isn’t physical. Host... Mr. Maxwell is experiencing a mental riot recoil. It’s a coma-inducing phenomenon.]

’How long will he be going to sleep?’ Neville asked, his grip on Grayson’s hand tightening.

[Without intervention, it will only worsen. His spiritual realm is in turmoil—I can sense the black impurities spreading.]

Black impurities? Another term that Neville didn’t know about, but had no time to listen to a lecture about it.

’What can I do?’ he asked silently.

[Two options. You can sing him a mermaid’s song, which would soothe his spiritual realm and ease the riot. Or...] Shelly paused dramatically, and Neville could practically see her seashell body bouncing with barely contained excitement. [Or you can have intimate contact with him.]

Neville’s eye twitched. ’And by intimate contact, you mean...?’

[Kissing would be the most efficient method right now! ♪(´ε｀)]

Neville closed his eyes, fighting the urge to bang his head against the nearest wall. He was not—absolutely not—going to kiss his unconscious boss in front of Julius and a ship full of witnesses.

The sexual harassment lawsuit alone would bankrupt him, never mind the awkwardness of explaining to Grayson why he would act like a prince charming to a Sleeping Beauty with him.

’Can’t I just sing?’ he asked desperately.