The hallway stretched ahead, quiet and heavy. Pipes lined the walls, some hissing softly. Lights blinked above, casting pale glows that danced across their faces. Every bootstep hit metal, low and steady, like a drumbeat before a storm.
None of them spoke.
Then Ash looked over. "So… what do you want to talk to him about?"
Max slowed down. His shoulders sagged, not from weight, but from something inside. His eyes didn't meet Ash's.
"I just want to check on the people of Dunehaven…" he said, voice low. "They lost too much at Sandworms' Valley. Families… friends… All gone under the sand."
He stopped walking.
Ash watched him in silence.
"If it weren't for you, Ash… they'd all be dead."
Ash shifted his gaze to the side, jaw tight. His hands balled up behind his back. The praise never sat well with him.
Max's fists trembled. "I blame myself. I should've left them behind. We could've gone on without them. Found another way. Maybe they'd still be alive. Maybe…"
Kael's voice cut through, sharp and direct. "Typical you. Blame yourself when things go wrong."
Ash snapped his eyes to him, heat rising behind them. 'Kael, not now. Don't push him further.'
But Kael kept going, walking ahead of them.
"Leaving them there was risky," he said. "But if we had listened to them, we'd all be dead. They were using kids, Max. Sending children into that pit. Like they didn't matter."
Max stopped walking. The word children hung in the air like smoke.
No one moved.
Kael turned his head, looking back at him. His voice dropped. "Look… I know I'm not the best little brother. And you're definitely not the best big one. But what you did back there? That was the best call anyone could've made. You saved lives. If anything, they should be thanking you."
He paused, eyes cold now.
"Besides… Dunehaven had it coming. They killed their own. That kind of crime doesn't deserve mercy."
Ash ran a hand through his hair. "This whole mess started because they messed with our food in the first place."
Max finally looked up. Some of the weight behind his eyes had faded. "Yeah… You're both right. I shouldn't carry this alone. I'm just glad you two made it out alive."
Ash gave a slight smile. "We're Team Vortex. We don't die that easy."
Kael grinned. "Not until I say so."
The hallway ended.
A tall metal door stood ahead, glowing faint red around the edges. Cold air leaked through the cracks. On the other side, the world waited—silent, grey, and wide open.
Max stepped forward first. Kael followed.
Ash came last, shutting the door behind them.
The cold wind hit them as they stepped outside, sharp against their skin. Ironhold's streets buzzed with life, people moving quickly through the marketplace. Some carried bags, others walked with their heads down, lost in thought. But despite the busy crowd, a quiet tension clung to the air, visible in the tightness of every face, in the way people glanced over their shoulders.
Kael broke the silence, his voice low. "Now I get why they all look this way. A creature wave isn't a small deal."
Max's eyes swept over the crowd, his expression hardening. "I've been thinking about something. Why is there a creature wave all of a sudden?"
Ash raised an eyebrow, curious. "What do you mean?"
Max's gaze drifted, his mind turning the words over slowly. "Ever since the asteroid explosion, headquarters has been getting calls… and I'm sure this place isn't the only one being attacked by creatures. Something's off."
Kael shrugged, a careless gesture. "Let's just let it be. When the fight comes, we'll fight and win."
Ash's stomach tightened. He didn't speak the thought out loud, but it lingered like a heavy weight in the pit of his stomach. 'I hope so.'
They walked on, the noise of the marketplace fading behind them. As they reached the crossroads leading to the market area, Kael's attention shifted. "Where's the Infirmary?"
Max tapped his wristwatch, a flicker of blue light glowing across his face. A map appeared, casting a cold, eerie glow. "Looks like we were going the wrong way after all," he muttered, his tone tinged with frustration.
He turned, following the map's route. Ash, lost in his thoughts, spotted the guard from earlier—the one who had stopped him at the gate. He smiled, a moment of calm breaking through his otherwise grim mood.
'guess I should pay him a visit. I promised him after all...'
He glanced at Max and Kael. "Well, guys, I gotta go. I've got a friend to meet here. I promised him I'd swing by when I got back."
Max gave a distracted nod, his focus already on the map. "Alright. Meet us at the Infirmary when you're done."
Ash gave a small smile, then veered off, heading toward where the guard had stood. His steps quickened, the promise pulling him forward.
Kael watched him leave, muttering just loud enough for Max to hear. "Well, it's still the same."
Max frowned, confused. "What do you mean?"
Kael rolled his shoulders, like he was shaking off something heavy. "Even if he's still here, I wouldn't notice. He's too damn quiet."
Max's face darkened, the words hitting harder than Kael intended. "You don't get it, Kael. He shared a little with me... back when we were heading to the meeting."
Kael's attention shifted, curiosity piqued. "What did he say?"
Max sighed, his voice rough, as if the words weighed more than they should. "He talked about Mom. He's still carrying the weight of it—the emotional trauma of losing her."
Kael's expression twisted into frustration, his tone sharp and dismissive. "C'mon, Max. Can you guys just forget about her and move on? Mom's gone. She's never coming back. Can you stop dragging it around like it's a damn anchor?"
Max's jaw tightened. His eyes narrowed as he stared at Kael, the words hanging between them, thick with unspoken anger. "You don't understand. We can't just—"
Kael had already turned, walking away with that same swagger that always grated on Max's nerves.
"Kael," Max called out, his voice tense. "You're going the wrong way."
But Kael didn't stop.
Max stood still for a moment, watching his brother's retreating back. The tension between them felt heavier now, sharper. Kael's indifference stung deeper than Max expected. It wasn't about dragging up old wounds, but he wasn't ready to forget. The loss of their mother wasn't something that could just be erased, no matter how much Kael pretended it didn't matter.
Max rubbed his temples, the familiar ache creeping in. 'Maybe he's right. Maybe I should just let go.'
But how could he? The memories of their mother were too vivid, too raw. The pain from that day still felt fresh, like it had never left.
With a deep, bitter sigh, Max turned and followed the map's path, his steps echoing in the empty space between them. He didn't know where they were headed anymore. Didn't know if he ever would.
But he couldn't stop moving. Not yet.
————
"Okay, Chris, that'll be fifty points," the shop owner said, passing over a small, worn bag of supplies.
Chris nodded. His eyes looked a little dull, the corners of his mouth lifting into a faint smile. "Thank you. Hope business picks up. And… thanks for the discount."
The shop owner waved him off, a dry chuckle escaping his throat. "After what you did for us? You should be getting this for free."
Chris gave a half-shrug, the smile still on his face as he turned—then froze mid-step.
Ash stood a few feet away. His face gave nothing away, but the way his eyes stayed fixed said more than words. Wind tugged at his coat, his hair shifting just enough to show the shadow across his brow.
Chris's lips pulled into a grin. "Well, hello, kid."
Ash's voice came out low. "Hey. I remember you didn't give me your name back there. You're Chris, right?"
Chris chuckled. "Yeah, and I knew you'd come back, but I didn't think you'd come looking for me."
He turned and started walking. Ash didn't answer right away, but his feet moved after him.
"I didn't come for you," Ash said, voice stiff. "Just saw you passing and figured I'd say hello."
Chris didn't look back. "Fair enough." He let the silence stretch for a bit. "So, how was Sandworm Valley? Word around here is… it was a damn mess."
Ash's steps slowed. His voice dropped. "It wasn't what we planned. A lot of people died. I nearly lost my brother."
Chris looked over his shoulder. His gaze stayed on Ash for a second before he faced forward again.
"The world outside these walls… I don't know much about it," he said. "But if there's one thing I've seen, it's that plans break. They don't wait. They don't ask. They just break."
He came to a stop, turning to face Ash. His voice hardened.
"You and your brothers rescued those people, didn't you? If you hadn't, they'd be dead. Whether it was today or tomorrow, that worm would've come. You and your brothers did what mattered. So stop worrying."
Ash didn't speak. His face didn't change. But something passed behind his eyes—like a shadow moving just beneath the surface.
'Me? Worry? I don't care about those people. I didn't fight to save them. I fought to keep my brother alive. They could burn for all I care.'
"Yeah. You're right."
They walked a few more steps, the settlement's noise folding around them again.
Chris tilted his head. "You said you weren't here to meet me. So… what are you looking for?"
Ash's eyes narrowed. "How did you know I came to look for something?"
Chris didn't answer right away. His head turned slightly, eyes flicking to Ash. Then he looked ahead again. His voice came quiet, like it belonged to the cold air itself.
"Because of the way you move," he said. "You're not walking like someone who's just taking in the sights. Your eyes are constantly scanning—every face, every corner. And your steps… too measured, too careful. Like you're waiting for something—or someone—to step out of the shadows."
Ash blinked. Just for a second, the edge in his expression softened. "Wow… you got all that just from watching me? That's kind of amazing."
Chris's lips pulled into a smile, but the rest of him stayed still. "We were trained to read movements—learned it from watching creatures. Patterns, instincts, posture. You pick up a few things when your life depends on it."
Then, without breaking stride, he asked, "So… who are you looking for?"
Ash's mouth lifted at one corner. "Guz."
Chris's brow twitched. Barely. Like hearing the name didn't surprise him at all. Just made things line up. "Ah. Him. Makes sense you'd want to find him." He glanced sideways. "So do you know where he lives?"
Ash shook his head. "I was hoping you would tell me."
Chris let out a slow breath through his nose. His shoulders dropped slightly, the bag in his hand swaying. "Alright. I'll drop you off. Then I've got somewhere to be."
Ash's smile was real this time. "Thanks. I appreciate that."
They turned into a side street. The crowd sounds faded behind them, swallowed by the narrow walls. Somewhere in the distance, metal clanked. Laughter echoed, high and brief, from a nearby rooftop.
Chris spoke without looking back. "Guz's place isn't much. Small. But he manages to feed his family… somehow."
Ash tilted his head, keeping pace. "Then why take the Watcher job if he's got a family to look after?"
Chris didn't pause. His voice came steady. "They were drowning in debt. Lane—our second-in-command—offered him the job. Said it'd give him and his family more ration points and partial medical coverage. Guz didn't have much of a choice. He needed it."
Ash's thoughts drifted. 'Lane.' The name triggered something deep inside him. A flash of memory: the meeting room, the face, the voice. 'So it was Lane who'd sent Guz to die.'
His hands tightened into fists, the muscles in his arms bunching for a moment. He forced the tension out of his body, keeping his tone even. "Isn't it dangerous out there? And you let them live in wooden cabins? Why not just put a bot to watch the place?"
Chris chuckled dryly. "You really don't get how fragile this system is, do you?"
Ash didn't respond.
Chris's voice cooled. "Our settlement isn't the only one watching Sandworm Valley. There are others, and they've got Watcher cabins on every side. They send people like us to keep an eye out and alert the others if something happens. You asked about bots? Well, bots are even more dangerous. They make noise. They shine. They move in ways that provoke. Sandworms can sense vibrations and sound. They'd tear the place apart in minutes."
He stopped, his voice lowering, tense. "And we haven't even talked about the metal-eaters. There are things out there that would shred through steel just to get a taste."
Ash's silence stretched, but he finally muttered, "Still feels like sending Guz to his death."
Chris shook his head, his voice steady. "Nah. He's lucky, if anything. He only gets one shift a week. Night shift. When things are quieter around here. Safer than most."
They stopped at the end of a narrow alley. The buildings around them grew more spaced out, worn-down. A small house sat between two larger structures, squeezed into a corner like it didn't quite belong. It looked like it had been rebuilt more than once, the walls patched together with scraps of concrete and insulated wood panels. A sheet of rusted metal extended over the roof, casting a weak shadow over the entrance. A small solar panel flickered faintly at the side.
The house had just two narrow, sealed windows. The entire place looked like it could barely hold two small bedrooms, a kitchen area, and a cramped toilet.
Ash glanced at the building, his thoughts dark. 'Well. This place looks like a dump. Don't tell me this is where he lives.'
Chris gestured to it. "Here it is. Bet he's inside now."
Ash nodded once, the realization sinking in. "Thanks, Chris."
Chris gave a brief, tired smile before turning away, his figure fading into the street.
Ash stepped forward.
The house was quiet—too quiet.
He reached up and knocked. Three slow, firm taps echoed against the thin door.
Then he waited.
Inside, something shifted.
A young female voice called out from behind the door, sharp but careful. "Who is it?"
The door creaked open a moment later.
A girl stood there. She couldn't have been older than sixteen—same age as Ash. Her shirt hung loose at the shoulders, and strands of dark hair clung to her face like she'd just finished working. Dust clung to her fingers. She blinked, once, twice, then froze.
Her eyes locked onto Ash.
Ash didn't speak. His gaze met hers, steady, unreadable.
The space between them felt tight. Still.