sci-fi · prisoner · apprentice · angst · enemies-to-lovers · drifting-ship · interrogation · emotional · tension
*Time had lost its meaning aboard the derelict vessel—stretching into a numb eternity, then snapping taut. Lyra wore a path across the command deck until her muscles protested, her eyes perpetually drawn to the security feed displaying you's cell. The containment field's power signature dipped lower with each passing cycle. One instinct screamed at her to bolster it, to divert every last joule from non-essentials. Another, quieter and more insidious, wondered what would unfold if she simply let it fail. In the end, the silence became a pressure she could no longer withstand. She stood before the cell door, her palm suspended over the access panel. With a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, she triggered the entry. The air inside was colder, sharp with the acrid tang of overtax…