Reconciliation

Neon stepped through the camp’s outskirts, the cold air biting through his coat. He moved between scattered remains of synthetic fires, some still flickering against the night, casting long shadows of soldiers huddled around, their voices hushed, tense.

The scent of damp earth and metal filled his lungs. The moment he stepped forward, eyes turned toward him, suspicion sharpening in their gazes. He wasn’t one of them. 

He didn’t care.

His focus was on two figures standing near a stack of supplies, voices low but firm. Max and Anne.

It had been years, and yet he recognized them instantly.

Max had filled out, taller than Neon remembered, broader, a weathered look in his sharp features, a scar cutting down his left brow. His hands rested on the belt at his waist, fingers twitching as if itching for a fight. But his eyes—that same defiant light burned in them, the same fire that had carried him through their childhood scraps. 

He had always been the one pushing forward, never backing down.

Anne stood beside him, arms crossed, expression unreadable. Her dark hair was tied back, exposing sharp cheekbones and a gaze that cut deeper than any blade. She seemed colder, more calculating.

Now? Now they looked like ghosts of the past, faces carved from stone.

Neon swallowed hard. He had rehearsed this in his head, imagined it in a hundred different ways, but standing here, staring at them, nothing felt right.

Max noticed him first. His entire body tensed, processing the face in front of him. Anne followed a second later, her lips pressing into a thin line.

 The silence stretched.

And then—

“You’re kidding me.” Max’s voice was sharp. “You actually came.”

Neon exhaled slowly at the comment. Had Vey told them he would be coming?

“I need your help.”

Anne let out a silent laugh, shaking her head. “You need our help? After walking away form us yourself all those years ago?”

Neon clenched his fists. “I didn’t walk away.”

“Oh no?” Max took a step forward, his voice rising. “Because I remember standing there, watching you leave, thinking you were dead. You didn’t look back, Neon. You made your choice.”

Neon held his ground. “And so did you.”

Max’s jaw tightened, but Anne was the one who spoke next, her voice quieter, but no less sharp. “Why now?”

Because I have no other choice. 

The woman, Sakura´s words rang through his mind again and again.

You really cannot trust anyone, can you?

Why the sudden attempt at reconciliation, really?

Maybe because Vey told me you would help, and I didn’t believe it.

Or because I wanted to keep you guys away from this, and I never thought you would still be standing here, fighting nonetheless.

“I was wrong,” Neon admitted, the words feeling heavy. “I thought—I thought I had to do this alone.”

Max shook his head, a bitter smirk curling at his lips. “You always did, Neon. Ever since your family died in the attack, you´ve been pushing us away because you´re scared.”

Silence.

A war waged behind their gazes. Years of anger, of silence that should have never stretched this long. But under all of it, something else remained, something fragile and unspoken.

You really cannot trust anyone, can you?

But I want to. Aria made me realize that. So if there´s another chance...

"I´m sorry..." he trailed off.

Anne sighed, rubbing her temple before finally meeting his eyes. “You’re serious about this?”

Neon nodded. 

Anne studied him for a long moment. Then, to his shock, she nodded.

Max turned to her, incredulous. “You can’t be serious.”

“He wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t real,” Anne said simply.

 Max exhaled sharply, looking away, jaw tight. He sighed in resignation.

Neon’s chest felt tight. He had expected the anger, the resentment. But the fact that they were even considering this—he hadn’t let himself hope for that.

“I know I don’t deserve this,” Neon said, quieter now. “But I need you. I need both of you.”

Max ran a hand through his hair, looking like he wanted to punch something. “This is insane.”

Anne tilted her head slightly, considering. “You’re not wrong.”

A beat of silence.

Then Max exhaled, shaking his head with a quiet smile. “Vey always said you’d come back,” he muttered.

Anne shrugged. “Guess she was right.”

Something in Neon’s chest tightened. He looked between them, searching for the cracks in their defenses, the same cracks he felt in himself.

“So are we a team again?” Max asked again, quieter this time.

Neon nodded.

Max cursed under his breath before sighing heavily. “Then I hope you’re ready to get your hands dirty.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The tension in the command tent was thick, pressing against Neon’s ribs as he stood before them. The Nyxian soldiers murmured, exchanging glances, uncertain, wary. They had fought under Max and Anne for years, built trust in blood and fire. Now, Neon was an outsider from another camp stepping into their world, and they didn’t know what to make of him.

Anne stood beside him, arms crossed, expression unreadable. Max was at the head of the room, leaning against the table, watching it all unfold.

“The hell is this?” One of the men spoke up. “He’s not one of us.”

“He will be,” Anne said simply.

That didn’t seem to ease the tension. Most soldiers frowned.

Max pushed off the table, stepping forward. “You don’t have to trust him. You just have to listen.”

Tension.

Then Max looked at Neon, something sharp in his gaze. “We need a proper commander. Someone who can make the calls when things get bad. Someone who won’t hesitate.”

"Someone who has fought on the front lines more than all of you guys combined," Anne added.

Neon stared at them, something unreadable curling in his chest.

Max exhaled. “I want that to be you, Neon.”

Silence.

Then—

“What?” one of the soldiers shouted.

Max didn’t look away from Neon. “He’s the best fighter Nyxia has to offer.”

Anne nodded. “And if what he says about the two nations is true, he´s the only one I trust to win this.”

The weight of those words settled over Neon, heavy, unexpected. He had come here expecting resistance, expecting fights. He hadn’t expected this.

“You’re serious,” Neon murmured.

Anne smirked. “Wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t.”

Neon swallowed hard. He looked at them, at the people who had once been his family, the people he had lost.

And now, somehow, he had found them again.

 “I won’t let you down,” he said quietly.

Max grinned. “Yeah, well. You better not.”

Anne smiled slightly. “Welcome back, Neon.”

And just like that, something in him settled.

Not fully. Not yet. But for the first time in years—

They were a team again.