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The emotions had run high all night, leaving me now with a sense of utter exhaustion, as if something inside me had been completely drained. Like an overfilled water bag that eventually bursts, its contents spilling out until all that's left is a deflated shell.

When the sliding door of the room opened, Ian and José visibly sighed in relief at the sight of me. They were fully equipped with tactical gear for close-quarters combat, their weapons loaded and placed on the table.

This gave me a small sense of guilt.

But I was too exhausted to say much. I simply explained that I hadn’t blown a hole in the palace or caused any situation that would have made the Praetorian Guards bristle their fur. Instead, I had supported Luther's decision, trying to buy as much time as possible while waiting for a turning point.

Though they probably didn’t realize that by 'turning point,' I meant that the Admiral might be rescued and personally revoke all charges against Luther.

However, the big dog was clearly relieved by this development. He didn’t seem to care about any of the trivial details in between, only advising me to rest early and save my strength for the trial tomorrow. He said nothing more. The coyote occasionally cast me a complex look, but whatever was on his mind, he kept it to himself.

I tried to apologize for what I had said earlier, but they didn’t seem to take it to heart. They just reassured me again, urging me to rest.

Ian quickly took off his gear, locked his weapons back in the cabinet, and then grabbed a change of clothes before heading to the shower room. José, on the other hand, sat quietly on the bed after putting away his gear, his pale yellow eyes fixed on me.

"What did you say in court today?" I hadn’t expected that when the normally loud and flamboyant coyote quieted down, he would become even harder to bear.

"I declared it an unfair trial, violating all logic," José shrugged. "That’s usually a good strategy to get Nyx’s attention."

This answer only raised more questions, but I was too tired to pursue them. I decided to leave the topic, along with other things I should say, for later.

"You said, 'We are his pack,'" I said as I put my things away and found my own change of clothes. "Why did you say that?"

The coyote hesitated for a brief moment, but then sighed softly, his expression relaxing as he decided to explain. "'He stands firm in the hopeless darkness, guiding our way.'"

"I thought that was just a fairy tale for cubs," I said slowly.

"All stories contain a kernel of truth," the coyote said, once again sounding uncharacteristically wise. He then lay down on the bed, resting his head on his crossed arms, legs propped up, staring at the upper bunk without saying another word.

I wanted to remind him that was Ian's spot, but I figured the crossbreed dog could defend his own bed, so I grabbed my clothes and headed to the shower room, leaving the pensive coyote undisturbed.

As the sliding door to the shower room opened and I was enveloped in the mist, I was once again acutely aware of just how close I was to passing out while standing.

For reasons no one understands, the feeling of hot water running through fur seems to wash away fatigue as well. I was sure I really needed this right now.

And Ian probably did too. The crossbreed dog stood under the stream of water, his fur completely soaked, his figure slightly shrunken.

I didn’t want to seem like I was still angry or awkward, so I picked the shower head to Ian’s right and began adjusting the temperature and flow on the panel.

For a while, neither of us spoke, just listening to the sound of water falling on the floor as we silently showered.

"You called me a coward," Ian said, lowering his head, his drooping ears covering his eyes.

"Ian..." I murmured softly, preparing to apologize for the impulsive words I had blurted out in anger.

"No, you weren’t wrong," the big yellow dog turned off the water and lifted his head, wiping his face. "I am a coward, and I know it."

"That’s not what I meant, and you know it," I said as I gently touched my bare skin, checking the wounds I had scratched on my neck.

"I’ve never asked you," Ian continued, seemingly uninterested in dwelling on the topic. "Who did you lose?"

I knew this question would come sooner or later, but did it have to be now? And he didn’t ask "Did you lose someone?" but "Who did you lose?"

"A friend," I said softly, raising my head to let the warm water run down my face. "A very important friend."

"Mm..." Ian responded, but didn’t say anything more, and so we continued listening to the sound of water droplets hitting the floor.

After a while, the big yellow dog seemed done with his shower. He turned off the water, gave himself a light shake, being careful not to spray me.

"I envy you, all of you so brave," he muttered to himself and then left before I had the chance to respond.

I sighed, covering my eyes with my hand, feeling my ears pressed flat against my head.

The hot shower had done wonders in easing the odd discomfort I had been feeling, making me want to continue indulging in it. But I reminded myself that I shouldn’t keep José waiting too long; he was surely no less tired than we were.

When I stepped out of the shower, towel-drying my fur in front of the locker, I noticed that Ian had already left. So I sped up, only spending a moment in the drying vent before leaving. I quickly combed through my unruly fur in front of the full-length mirror in the changing room.

Almost unconsciously, I found myself touching the bare circle on my neck, lightly running my fingers over its curve, and then staring at my reflection, as if looking at another red fox.

Another red fox.

I shook my head forcefully, pulling myself from the distant memories, and made a decision as I looked into the eyes of the fox gazing back at me from the mirror.

Whether or not Luther could somehow rescue the Admiral in a way I didn’t understand, I didn’t want to lose any more friends—none of them.

When I returned to the room after getting dressed, Ian had already kicked José off the bed and was lying on his side, back facing me, his body slowly rising and falling with his breathing. The coyote, meanwhile, was doing some sort of relaxing movements, possibly winding down from exercise.

José noticed me come in, grabbed his clothes, and nodded at me lightly before heading to the shower room.

There were too many things occupying my mind, so I simply nodded back and didn’t say anything else.

When I finally lay face-down on the soft bed, I could clearly feel all the strength I had been forcing myself to hold onto vanish in an instant. My body refused to follow any commands from my brain, not even to adjust my posture.

I had no choice but to accept it and tried to clear my thoughts, hoping I could fall asleep quickly and get some rest.

But before I fully drifted into darkness, an earlier memory crept back into my mind.

“How's Richter... doing?” the burly Snow asked as he escorted me back to my room, possibly trying to ease the awkward atmosphere between us. Every guard we passed didn’t seem too happy, ready to question why I was wandering the halls. But the moment they saw my escort, they immediately stopped in their tracks, standing against the wall without even a mutter of complaint. “I mean, as... a commanding officer?”

“Pretty good, I think,” I replied, shifting my attention away from the guards with their pricked-up ears and tails, and recalling the various evaluations of the Empire’s Heart Fleet. “Though I haven’t served in any other fleet, I’ve heard the Admiral is a rare and exceptional leader.”

The white wolf didn’t respond immediately, just nodding slowly, his deep blue eyes seemingly full of countless thoughts.

“In the courtroom…” he spoke again, his words revealing his large white teeth, which made me a bit nervous. “The coyote declared that you are Richter's pack.” The burly Snow glanced at me. With his towering figure and aura, being looked down upon by him was incredibly intimidating—I suspected that was why the guards reacted the way they did. “Why?”

“Because the Admiral is a wolf?” I tilted my head, boldly guessing. Only Rationalism knew José's reason, but I thought that was one possible explanation. However, the white wolf gave me a look that I suspected was one of offense, raising one eyebrow.

“But you aren’t,” he pointed out the obvious.

Snow’s statement left me speechless for a moment, unsure how to respond. After all, that coyote’s mind must have suffered some kind of irreparable physical damage, leaving lasting aftereffects, so who could fully understand what José meant? But… what about me? What did I think? Why hadn’t I felt any dissonance when José made that claim in court, and instead, understood what he meant?

I suppose I had always known the answer. So I spoke up.

“He leads the way through the impassable snow, walking ahead of us.”