Ruler of Heat: One Man, A Thousand Thirsts-Chapter 40: The Silent Hunter

The fire had died out hours ago.

Rivan sat awake in the dim half-light before dawn, his back to a stone pillar, Selina curled up beside him beneath the shared cloak. Her breathing was steady, her sleep deeper than he'd seen before. Whatever had been unlocked between them, it had taken its toll.

But it had also forged something new. Stronger.

He could feel it in the way their bond pulsed beneath the surface—like a thread of heat that wrapped around his heart and hers both.

[Shared Flame Link: Active]

[All incoming psychic interference reduced by 60% while partner is within proximity.]

He closed the system window.

And then he heard it.

Not a branch snap. Not footsteps.

Breathing.

Low. Controlled. Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

The kind of breath that only came from someone trained to kill.

Rivan didn't move. He let his eyes scan the edges of the ruins—old stone, broken tiles, grass pushing through cracks. But the shadows were deeper than they should've been.

He didn't wake Selina.

Instead, he rose slowly and stepped into the open.

"I know you're there," he said.

Silence.

Then—

A voice. Smooth. Male. Amused.

"You're sharper than the others."

Rivan turned.

The man stood on top of a crumbling archway, body wrapped in a faded cloak of shifting greys. His face was hidden, but Rivan saw a glint of metal over one eye—an implant, maybe. His build was lean. Toned. Efficient.

"I'm not like the others," Rivan replied.

The man hopped down without a sound, landing just meters away. His movements were precise. Calculated. Every muscle moving only as much as needed.

"I was told to watch," the man said, "but you made it hard to stay hidden. Especially after you lit up half the forest with that memory flare."

"You were watching last night?"

"I've been watching for days."

Rivan's fists tightened.

"And who are you?"

The man didn't answer right away. He pulled something from beneath his cloak—a small metallic cube. He tossed it toward Rivan, who caught it instinctively.

It opened in his palm, displaying a flickering hologram.

A boy. Younger. Dark-haired. Eyes like Rivan's.

[Data Signature Match: 72% — Subject Alias: Dorian Cross]

Rivan's pulse spiked.

"...What is this?"

The man spoke quietly. "Your brother."

Rivan stared at the flickering hologram in his palm.

The boy's face was younger, but the resemblance was undeniable—same eyes, same sharp jaw, same fire in his stare. Memories stirred, scattered and broken, flashes from a life before Vault 17.

He shook his head. "This is a trick."

The man in grey didn't flinch. "It's not."

"My brother died. Before I was taken."

"He was taken before you."

Rivan's hand clenched around the cube, almost crushing it.

"Why should I believe you?"

The man pulled back his hood.

His face was lean, scarred, with faint lines of circuitry etched into his skin. His right eye glowed with faint orange light—artificial, but stable. The left was human.

"I'm called Kael. I'm not your enemy."

Rivan didn't drop his guard. "That's what enemies say right before they stab you."

Kael sighed. "I'm here to warn you. Dorian is alive. And he's hunting the same thing you are."

Selina stirred behind them, waking slowly. Her eyes locked on Kael, and she stood, wrapping the cloak tighter around her.

"You didn't mention we were being followed," she said to Rivan.

"He didn't trigger the bond," Rivan replied. "Which means he's good."

Kael nodded. "I've been trained to suppress aura leakage. It's what kept me alive during the Crimson Reaper Cycle."

Selina's eyes narrowed. "You're from the Deep Corps."

Kael didn't deny it. "Formerly."

Rivan glanced between them. "Enough riddles. Why are you here now?"

Kael tossed another device forward—a memory shard.

It cracked open, revealing a single line of data:

[LustCore Host: Rivan Cross – Target Priority: Apex Level – Active Bounty: 900K Units – Issued by: The Silver Crown]

Selina's breath hitched. "That's... a death order."

"Correction," Kael said. "It's a capture alive order. But you know what happens when systems fall into enemy hands."

Rivan nodded slowly. "They drain it dry."

Kael stepped closer. "Dorian's not just alive. He's a Collector now. And he's coming for you."

The air grew heavier.

Rivan paced slowly around the dying fire, the memory shard still flickering beside him. A bounty—on him. Issued by something called the Silver Crown. He hadn't even heard that name before, but Selina clearly had.

"They don't usually show their faces," she said. "The Silver Crown works in the shadows, like a council. A guild of high-wealth contractors who deal in secrets... and rare powers."

Kael added, "They believe LustCore is the last unclaimed legacy system. Most of the others are corrupted or absorbed. Yours is... pure."

"Pure?" Rivan said, eyes narrowing. "You mean unexploited."

Kael nodded. "Exactly. And that's why Dorian wants it. The Crown gave him freedom, power, resources — in exchange for your capture."

Rivan's hands balled into fists. His own brother.

A memory flickered — vague, indistinct — Dorian grabbing his hand as children, dragging him out of a burning building. Laughing. Bleeding. Protecting.

"Why would he turn?"

Selina's voice was low. "Everyone has a price."

"No," Kael corrected. "Collectors don't trade for gold or glory. They trade for meaning. Purpose. And the Silver Crown gave Dorian one: find the LustCore and bring it to heel."

Rivan knelt beside the memory shard. "How long do we have?"

Kael's expression hardened. "He's already in the region. Moving west. He's got trackers—some human, some not."

Selina looked at Rivan. "Then we move first. We set the trap."

Kael raised an eyebrow. "You're going to try and hunt a Collector?"

Rivan smiled for the first time since Kael appeared. "He's expecting me to run."

Selina grinned back. "Let's surprise him."

The plan was reckless.

Exactly how Rivan liked it.

Selina and Kael worked quickly to build the beacon—a twisted signal transmitter Kael had hidden beneath a collapsed ruin nearby. It looked half-broken, its core pulsing with unstable red energy.

"A Blood Signal," Kael explained. "Once activated, it'll ping anyone connected to the Collector's grid. Including Dorian."

"So we light the fire," Rivan said, "and wait for the dragon to land."

Selina shook her head. "We don't wait. We watch—from high ground."

She pointed to the ridge overlooking the ruins. It was narrow, but offered a direct line of sight to the beacon and the valley below.

[Temporary Objective Activated: Signal the Hunter – Prepare for Ambush]

[System Sync with Selina: Stable. Bond Level 3. Shared Flame Tier Holding.]

Rivan paced near the edge. "If Dorian's anything like I was... he won't come alone."

"He isn't," Kael said. "He has Shades."

Selina's brow furrowed. "Corrupted hosts?"

"Worse," Kael replied. "Failed system vessels. They don't feel. They obey."

Rivan gritted his teeth. "Then we burn them down."

He touched the Blood Signal.

It flared to life, casting red arcs into the sky—brief, sharp, blinding. Then silence.

The beacon hummed low.

Nothing happened.

Then—

[Alert: Incoming Aura Signatures Detected – Six Entities Approaching Fast]

[Class: Unknown – Combat Readiness: Maximum]

Rivan turned to Selina.

"They're here."

She drew her dagger. Kael loaded a slender pulse-blade.

Rivan let the heat rise in his chest, the Shared Flame syncing between him and Selina.

Then, from the sky, six streaks of black dropped through the clouds—landing hard, like bullets from heaven.

The ground shook.

And leading them—tall, broad-shouldered, silver-armored—stood a man whose face mirrored Rivan's.

Dorian Cross.

Smiling.

"Hello, little brother."

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Coming Next: Chapter 41 – Brotherborn, Brotherbroken

The past returns, fists first.

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