1st Person View | Scout's PoV
When I open my eyes, everything's dark. My head feels heavy, and there's this low buzzing behind my ears. It takes me a second to realize it's the sound of a cheap desk lamp.
Christian's sitting there, reading.
He's got one of those old hardcovers balanced in his hands, and I can smell the dust from here. It seems like no one's picked up that book for a while. He looks… calm.
I shift slightly, feeling my head, and the cot creaks. His eyes flick up immediately.
"Hey," he says quietly, closing the book. "Welcome back."
It takes me a second to find my voice. "What… time is it?"
"Late," he says. "You've been out since the afternoon."
I push myself up, the blanket and a large jacket slipping down my arms. My body feels like it's been filled with sand. My head throbs, presumably from mana exhaustion. Guess two spell slots really do mean two.
The room's empty except for us. The windows are boarded from the outside, but a faint gold shimmer leaks through the cracks.
He follows my gaze. "Yeah," he says. "That's new. The system let me turn the whole school into a fortress. Said I'm the 'manager.' Whatever that means."
"That's good, right?" I ask.
"Better than nothing, I suppose."
Silence stretches between us for a bit.
I look around at the desks and overturned chairs. The cracked whiteboard is still half-covered in marker. Someone had written "Pop Quiz Friday" in red.
"Where's Solution?" I ask.
"He went into the city."
"By himself?"
He nods. "Said he needed answers."
Of course he did. We discussed doing that together. A part of me isn't surprised. Another part hates that it doesn't surprise me.
I pull my knees up, resting my chin on them. "I should've gone with him."
"No," Christian says immediately. "You shouldn't have."
I look up at him. "He's strong, but he's not invincible. I could've—"
"—burned yourself out even more than you already did." He cuts me off. "You were about five minutes away from a serious mana collapse. You're lucky he carried you out when he did."
I stare at the floor and exhale, leaning back against the wall. "This all feels like a bad dream."
Christian snorts. "If it is, it's a long one. Hopefully we'll wake up soon."
I think back to everything that happened. The gym, the monster…
…the students in the wall.
I swallow hard. "We could've died."
"Yeah," he says. "A few people did."
That hits harder than I expect. The way he says it…it sounds like he cares, but he's tired of caring. Like he's already said it too many times today.
I glance at him. "How are you so calm about this?"
He leans back in his chair, the lamplight catching the faint circles under his eyes. "I'm not calm," he says. "I'm just busy. Gives me less time to think about it."
That makes sense, in a sad kind of way. I haven't really thought of the pressure he must be feeling.
"Everyone's looking to you now," I say.
He shrugs. "Someone had to stand up. Solution's gone, the teachers are gone… I guess that left me."
"And you're okay with that?"
He thinks about it for a second. "Doesn't matter if I'm okay with it. My dad used to say being a man means showing up even when you don't want to. I'm just showing up."
I smile. "He sounds smart."
Christian scoffs. "He was."
I…don't know what to say to that. I can tell Chrisitan has certain feelings about his relationship with his father, but any comforting words fail to come to mind.
I glance at the window again, hoping to change the subject. "So this Safe Zone… guessing based off the name, it'll keep us safe, right?"
Christian shrugs. "Mostly."
"Mostly?"
He hesitates, then says, "The system said the stronger a Safe Zone gets, the more monsters it attracts."
"…Oh."
"Yeah."
I lie back down slowly, staring at the ceiling. "That's comforting."
"I never said it was. It's better than nothing, though."
Despite everything, I laugh quietly. It hurts my throat a little, but it feels good.
"Get some rest," he says. "Tomorrow's going to be worse."
He sure knows how to make a girl feel comfortable.
"Great," I mumble. "Can't wait."
The lamp clicks once, then goes out. The room plunges into darkness.
I hear Christian shifting in his chair, then a thud as he closes the book. Outside, I can hear what I think is whispering.
He straightens, standing up so fast the chair legs scrape.
"Chris—" I start, but he's already moving.
He's at the window before I can think about what's going on outside. He narrows his eyes to peer through the boarded window.
With the way Christian is acting, my senses are on edge.
Something's wrong.