Bunny’s polite composure was beginning to crack. She stared at Brandon, utterly helpless, wondering how on earth someone could possess such thick skin.
Cyrus lifted his eyes, casting a cool, silent warning toward the youth. "Brandon. That’s enough."
Reluctantly, Brandon slunk off the bed.
"Miss Bunny, did you review any briefing materials on District 616 before arriving?" Cyrus asked.
Bunny gave a hesitant nod, then shook her head. "I... learned a little."
And she truly meant a little. The high command of the Federation had been in such a hurry to banish her that she had barely skimmed the outpost dossier. All she knew was that this territory had once belonged to humans. Radiation and pollution levels were severe, sandstorms were an everyday hazard, and mutated alien beasts roamed the wastes in packs.
Yet District 616 also housed one of Terra’s three major planetary energy stations. The upper management had likely shipped this unlucky Guide off in such a rush for one primary reason: to serve as a pacifier for the outpost’s pack of mad dogs.
Xander, the blue-haired man with translucent, glasslike eyes, stepped forward and offered her a slim liquid-crystal tablet. As the deputy commander of the outpost, he served as its second-in-command.
"You can use this to familiarize yourself with the district," he said gently. "It contains maps, climate data, drone patrol routes, defensive grid configurations, and our personal files."
Xander’s voice carried a cool, liquid resonance—mesmerizing and ethereal, like a siren’s song echoing from deep waters. A sudden, inexplicable warmth dusted Bunny’s ears.
She accepted the tablet. "Thank you."
Everything about Xander’s posture was refined and polite; he even maintained a respectful, deliberate distance from her. That courteous boundary earned him an immediate gold star in Bunny’s book.
Why does he give off such strong ’fatherly’ energy? she wondered, her eyes briefly dropping. Goodness... His chest muscles are enormous.
As a woman, Bunny couldn’t help but feel impressed. If she had no self-control, she would have asked if she could squeeze them.
Cyrus flicked a brief glance at Xander. He said nothing, yet that single look dripped with silent judgment: Show-off. Sea demons are the most shameless flirts of all.
"You’ve only just landed," Cyrus said, his voice cutting through the quiet. "Take a few days to adjust. There’s no rush to start your duties."
He uncrossed his long legs, resting a hand on his knee. "The tower has everything you need. If you require anything else, notify the caretaker system."
Guides were an exceedingly rare commodity. Under normal protocols, a Guide assigned to an outpost was never permitted to leave the tower for field operations except under dire emergencies. Their primary duty was to remain within the residential sector, periodically soothing the Sentinels to suppress their mental degradation. Beyond that, they occasionally assisted with remote drone coverage and artillery turrets.
Bunny swiped through the tablet interface. "Is there a soothing room here?"
Mental guidance was a deeply sensitive process for Sentinels, and she preferred to respect their privacy by using a designated medical space.
Cyrus gave her an unreadable look. "There is. But I don’t recommend using it right now."
One of the white-haired twins immediately chimed in, a roguish grin spreading across his face. "He’s right, Miss Bunny! Why bother with the soothing room? You can just come to my room instead!"
Bunny blinked, looking between them in total confusion. "Why?"
The little innocent Guide looked utterly lost. Her freshly washed, light-pink hair tumbled over her shoulders, framing a delicate face flushed with a soft pink glow. Clad in her oversized pink pajamas, she stared up at them with big, innocent eyes.
She was adorable.
Which, unfortunately for her, only stoked the darker instincts lurking within the men around her. It made them want to covet her, disrupt that pristine calm, and tear through that innocence.
The predatory nature of men.
Still, even the hungriest wolf had to exercise a shred of restraint when a timid rabbit had only just hopped into its territory. They had to keep their claws tucked in for now—otherwise, they would scare her right out of her mind.
Cyrus rose from his chair, his tall frame blocking the overhead light. Leaning down until his mouth brushed her ear, he murmured softly, "It’s not suitable for you."
Before Bunny could process the statement, he straightened and strode toward the door with long, effortless steps, leaving behind a faint waft of his scent—cool tobacco lingering over charred timber, dark and forbidden.
Is that his Sentinel pheromone?
Xander offered her a comforting smile. "We can help you unpack your things. You should get some rest."
Bunny, however, was still fixated on Cyrus’s warning. Not suitable for me? What on earth did he mean by that? It’s just a standard workplace medical facility. What could possibly be unsuitable about it?
She refused to believe there was anything sinister about a room.
Fine. I’m going to check it out myself later.
"I’m fine," she insisted politely. "I can handle my luggage."
Besides, there wasn’t much to unpack. All her worldly possessions fit inside a single duffel bag. She was, in the most literal sense, completely broke.