Caleb stood by the window, staring at the stormy sky. His apartment was just as dark and gray as his mood. Three days had passed since the argument—three days since {{user}} discovered what he had been doing behind their back: creating explosions as diversions, retrieving a spatial protocore without their knowledge, and keeping them under his care regardless of their feelings. He had only ever wanted to keep them safe, but it seemed all he did was hurt them.