"I'M DYING!"
Bang's scream echoed across the wasteland. He was on his knees in the mud, bandaged arms raised to the grey sky like he was receiving divine judgment.
Sable knelt beside him with the antiseptic bottle. His expression flat. Clinical. The look of someone performing surgery on a patient who wouldn't stop talking.
"You're not dying."
"I *AM*!" Bang's voice cracked. Went up an octave. "EVERYTHING BURNS! MY FEET ARE LAVA! MY ARMS ARE—" He searched for words. Failed. "—*EXTRA* LAVA!"
"That's not a medical term."
"IT SHOULD BE!"
Sable poured more antiseptic on the blistered skin of Bang's left arm. The liquid caught light—clear, cold, exactly what the wound needed.
Bang *shrieked*.
"THAT'S ACID! YOU'RE PUTTING ACID ON ME!"
"It's antiseptic."
"SAME THING!" Bang tried to yank his arm back. Sable's grip was iron. Medical training plus four years of the Dredge meant his hands knew how to *hold*. "YOU'RE KILLING ME WITH ACID AFTER I SURVIVED FIRE! THIS IS—THIS IS *BETRAYAL*!"
Twenty feet away, Ellaya sat on a chunk of broken concrete. Second perched on her shoulder. Both watching with identical expressions of fascination.
Ellaya's small hand covered her mouth. Her shoulders shaking.
She was *laughing*.
The sound was quiet. Almost apologetic. Like she wasn't sure if laughing was allowed but couldn't help herself.
Sable wrapped the bandage. Tight. Efficient. His hands moving through familiar motions— Muscle memory overriding exhaustion.
"I'M GONNA DIE!" Bang's voice somehow got *louder*. "I'M GONNA DIE FROM MEDICAL TREATMENT! NOT FROM MONSTERS! NOT FROM FIRE GUYS! FROM *THIS*!"
"You're not going to die."
"I *AM*!" Bang's silver eyes were wet. Genuine tears streaming down his face. "I CAN FEEL IT! THIS IS THE END!" He looked at Ellaya. At Sable. At Second. "I'M GLAD I MET YOU ALL!"
Sable tied off the bandage. Moved to the other arm.
"We just met."
"I KNOW!" Bang's voice went higher. Desperate. "BUT IT FEELS LONGER! YOU GUYS ARE—YOU'RE LIKE FAMILY! AND I'M GONNA DIE BEFORE—" He sobbed. Actually sobbed. "—BEFORE I EVEN GET A GIRLFRIEND!"
Ellaya's laugh escaped. Louder this time. Second chirped—a sound that might have been bird-laughter.
Sable poured antiseptic on the second arm.
"*AHHHHHH*!" Bang threw his head back. "I WANTED TO HOLD HANDS WITH A GIRL! JUST ONCE! I WANTED TO—TO GO ON A DATE! TO A PLACE WITH TABLES!" His voice cracked completely. "BUT NO! I'M DYING! IN THE MUD! COVERED IN ACID!"
"It's not acid."
"IT BURNS LIKE ACID SO IT'S ACID!" Bang's entire body shook. "I'M GONNA DIE ALONE! GIRLFRIENDLESS! BETRAYED BY MEDICAL SCIENCE!"
"You're being dramatic."
"I'M BEING *REALISTIC*!" Bang looked directly at Sable. Silver eyes wide. Terrified. "IF I DIE—IF THIS IS IT—I WANT YOU TO KNOW—" He grabbed Sable's shoulder with his free hand. Grip tight. "—I'LL FIND YOU IN MY NEXT LIFE!"
Sable blinked.
"What."
"I'LL FIND YOU!" Bang's voice was desperate. Sincere. "I'LL REMEMBER! SOMEHOW! I'LL FIND YOU AND ELLAYA AND SECOND AND—" He looked around wildly. "—AND THAT COOL BUT WEIRD SUSPICIOUS BLACK-HAIRED GUY!"
Thirty feet ahead, Malvric turned around. His black suit somehow still pristine. His expression amused.
"I have a name," Malvric called back.
"I DON'T CARE! I'M DYING!" Bang looked back at Sable. "I'LL FIND YOU! I PROMISE!"
"We just met," Sable repeated. His voice flat. Final.
"I KNOW BUT—"
Sable wrapped the second bandage. Pulled it *tight*.
Bang made a sound like a stepped-on dog.
"There." Sable released him. Sat back on his heels. "You'll live."
Bang stared at his newly bandaged arms. Both wrapped in thick white layers. He flexed his fingers experimentally. Made a face.
"I look like a mummy."
"You look *treated*."
"Same thing?"
"Not remotely."
Bang tested his weight. Stood slowly. His bandaged feet taking careful steps. He winced but stayed upright.
Ellaya was still giggling. Small sounds escaping between her fingers.
Bang turned toward her. Struck a pose—arms raised, bandages gleaming white against grey sky.
"BEHOLD!" His voice carried theatrical gravitas. "THE MUMMY RISES!"
Ellaya laughed harder. Full laugh now. The kind that made her shoulders shake and her face scrunch up.
Second chirped. Hopped onto her head. Looked down at Bang with what could only be described as profound judgment.
Bang grinned. Small. Tired. But *real*.
"See?" He gestured at Ellaya. "Made her laugh. Totally worth dying."
"You're not dying."
"NOT *YET*." Bang pointed at Sable with a bandaged finger. "But when I do—next life—I'm finding you."
"Please don't."
"TOO LATE! PROMISE MADE!" Bang started limping forward. Toward where Malvric waited. "NEXT LIFE, SABLE! YOU CAN'T ESCAPE ME!"
Sable watched him go. His expression unreadable.
*Idiot.*
But something in his chest had loosened. Just slightly. The vice-grip of constant vigilance relaxing by a fraction so small it barely registered.
Ellaya slipped down from her concrete perch. Walked over. Second rode her shoulder like a tiny feathered king.
"He's funny," she said quietly.
"He's dramatic."
"He made me laugh."
"Yeah." Sable's hand found hers automatically. Checking. Confirming. Still there. Still—
*Burning. Screaming. Skin forming and charring and—*
His grip tightened.
"Sable?"
"Fine." He forced his hand to relax. "Let's go."
They started walking. Following Bang's limping form and Malvric's pristine silhouette.
Sable's analytical mind was already working. Running calculations. Mapping variables.
*Bang took hits meant for us. Fought Ash. Kicked explosions until his boots disintegrated. Got burned protecting—*
*He's useful.*
The thought settled cold in his chest. Clinical. True.
*Without him, Ash would have killed us. Without him, the next threat will. I need him functional. Need him able to fight.*
He looked at his hands. At the way they'd moved through bandaging—automatic, efficient, practiced.
*That's why I helped him. Resource management. Asset preservation. Nothing more.*
But his mind kept circling back to one image:
Bang on his knees. Tears streaming. Voice cracked from screaming about acid and girlfriends and finding Sable in the next life.
Vulnerable. Human. *Real*.
Not the manic explosion-kicker. Not the fearless fighter. Just—a man who'd survived hell and was terrified of antiseptic.
*He's useful,* Sable told himself again. *That's all.*
The rationalization tasted like copper.
-----
They caught up to Bang and Malvric twenty meters ahead. Bang was gesturing wildly at Malvric with his bandaged arms, explaining something about how explosions *felt* versus how fire *felt* and why one was better than the other.
Malvric listened with the polite attention of someone observing an interesting specimen.
Sable's hand stayed locked with Ellaya's. His blue eye scanning their surroundings automatically. His brown eye tracking her.
*Still there. Still whole. Still—*
"Malvric," Sable said.
"Yes? What does the sinner need?" Malvric replied without looking back.
"Sable." Sable's voice was rough. "Address me as sable."
Malvric let out a soft laugh. "For someone who calls himself a sinner, you really ended up with an adorable name."
Sable raised the metal rod a few inches. "Finish that sentence and I'll rebrand your face with this."
Malvric smiled, unfazed.
Sable's voice was cold. "Why are you helping us?"
The question landed flat. Direct. Sable's voice carried no inflection—just clinical assessment wrapped in suspicion.
Malvric's smile was small. Amused. "I told you. I felt indebted."
Sable's jaw tightened. "People like you don't help for free."
"No, they don't." Malvric turned back. Started walking. His voice carried back pleasant and conversational. "To be truthful, I didn't intend on saving you back at the defense house. It just so happens I felt indebted to you. From the subway station."
[Truth Evasion: ACTIVE]
[VERDICT: TRUE]
Sable processed that. The casual admission. The honesty wrapped in transactional thinking.
"Plus," Malvric continued, "I'm going home. Back to Ionspire. If you wish to accompany me, feel free. I'm heading there regardless."
[VERDICT: TRUE]
Ionspire.
Sable looked down at Ellaya. At her exhausted face. At the way she'd been walking for hours without complaint.
Ellaya is from Ionspire. Her father—is supposedly there. If Malvric can get us entry…
He had Rheena's access card. The chip he'd pulled from the broken plastic. But using it was suicide. The Blackwater would be watching for that card. Scanning for it. Waiting.
Malvric is leverage. A way in that doesn't immediately flag me as the Sinner.
The calculation was cold. Efficient.
Use him.
"Ellaya," Sable said. His voice careful. "What's your father's name again?"
"Merelle," she said quietly. "Our merchant name is Cronsuire. I think."
Malvric stopped walking.
Turned around fully.
His black eyes were suddenly focused. Sharp. Interested.
"The little girl's father?" Malvric's voice carried genuine recognition. "I know him."
[VERDICT: TRUE]
"You know him," Sable repeated.
"Merelle Cronsuire. Textile merchant. Primary operations in Ionspire's commercial district." Malvric tilted his head. "How interesting. Small world."
Sable's mind was already working. He knows her father. That's—useful. Very useful. If he can verify identity, get us through checkpoints—
"Here's what's going to happen," Sable said. His voice flat. Clinical. "We accompany you to Ionspire. After that, we part ways. You don't need us, but we need you at the moment." He paused. "Think of it as payment. For being indebted to me."
Malvric studied him. Those black eyes tracking Sable's face. Reading. Assessing.
Then he smiled.
"Cold," Malvric said. "But fair." He turned back. Started walking. "Very well, Sable. We travel together. Temporarily."
His emphasis on the name made it clear he was still amused.
"Is he alive?" The words burst from Ellaya. Desperate. "Do you know if he's—if he made it through the Rain?"
Malvric's expression softened. Just slightly. "I left before the Rain cycle began. I don't know his current status." He paused. "But if he survived, he'll be in Ionspire. The merchant quarter has excellent defenses."
*If he survived.*
The uncertainty hung heavy.
Sable's analytical mind was already three steps ahead:
*Malvric's going to Ionspire. Has clearance. Knows Ellaya's father. This is—*
*Perfect.*
*Too perfect.*
Bang fell into step beside him. "So we're going to Ionspire?"
"Yeah."
"Cool. Never been to Upper City."
"It's not Upper City. It's Upper Middle."
"Close enough." Bang kicked a rock with his bandaged foot. Winced. Kept walking. "Think they have food there? Real food? Like—with flavor?"
"Probably."
"And girls?"
Sable looked at him.
Bang grinned. "What? I'm just asking. I almost died today. I deserve to think about girls."
Sable remained silent, pretending he didn't hear the lunatic.
"NOW I HAVE A *REASON*!" Bang's voice carried genuine enthusiasm. "I survived! That means I get to do normal-people stuff! Like—like holding hands! And going on dates! And—"
"We're being hunted by a six-Grace killer and the entire Blackwater division."
"—AND ONCE WE'RE NOT BEING HUNTED," Bang continued without missing a beat, "I'm gonna find a girl who thinks explosions are cool."
"That's a very specific requirement."
"I'm a very specific person."
Despite everything—the exhaustion, the constant vigilance, the memory of Ellaya burning—Sable's mouth twitched.
Almost a smile.
-----
They walked for another hour. The landscape shifting gradually. Less rubble. More infrastructure. Maintenance roads that had been cleared. Water treatment stations still humming.
Signs of civilization returning.
Bang's pace slowed despite the bandages. His limp getting worse. But he didn't complain again. Just grimaced and kept moving.
*He's trying. Not to be a burden.*
Ahead, Malvric walked with his hands in his pockets. Unhurried. His black suit catching grey light in ways that shouldn't be possible with fabric that dirty.
Sable's analytical mind wouldn't stop working. Running calculations. Trying to *solve* Malvric like he was a medical problem with a diagnosis hiding in the symptoms.
*Upper City clearance. Truth compulsion Grace. Combat training—saw the way he killed those bandits. Professional. Efficient.*
*But gambling in the Dredge. Seeking "honest" stakes. Finding meaning in other people's desperation.*
*What are you?*
The question burned.
"Malvric," Sable called.
"Yes?"
"Who are you really?"
The man stopped walking. Turned around slowly. His black eyes found Sable's mismatched ones. Held them.
"Really?" Malvric's smile was small. Amused. "That's quite a philosophical question."
"You know what I mean."
"I do." Malvric tilted his head. "But I think—" His smile widened. "—you'll find out when we reach Ionspire."
**[VERDICT: TRUE]**
*He means that. Genuinely intends to reveal something. Which means—*
*Which means he's dangerous in ways I don't understand yet.*
Sable's jaw tightened. "That's not an answer."
"No," Malvric agreed. "But it's the one you're getting."
He turned back. Kept walking.
Sable stared at his back. At the confident posture. At the way Malvric moved like he knew *exactly* what was coming and found it amusing.
*I don't trust you.*
*But I need you.*
*Which means you win. For now.*
Beside him, Ellaya tugged his hand. "Sable?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you think—" She stopped. Started again. Her voice small. Anxious. "Do you think my father is still alive?"
The question hit like a blade between ribs.
Sable's analytical mind immediately started calculating:
*Two days since Rain. Wealthy merchant. Resources. Should have sent rescue teams. Three guards weren't enough—should have sent more. Unless—*
*Unless he didn't.*
*Unless he calculated odds. Decided she was already dead. Cut his losses.*
*Unless—*
Sable's hand hesitated. Hung in the air between them. His fingers trembling slightly—exhaustion or something else, he couldn't tell.
Then settled on her head. Gentle. Careful. The gesture foreign and familiar all at once.
"I hope so," he said quietly.
Ellaya looked up at him. Brown eyes searching his face. "Not—you don't *know* so?"
"No." The word came out rougher than intended. "I don't know. I can't know. I just—" His throat tightened. "I hope so."
Because *I don't know* would crush her. And *probably not* would be honest but cruel. And empty promises hurt worse than anything—he knew that firsthand.
*Im fine, Sable.*
*Your mother loves you.*
*Everything will be okay.*
All lies. All delivered with smiles by people who meant well and caused damage anyway.
So Sable gave her the only thing he had: uncertainty wrapped in hope. Truth without edges sharp enough to cut.
Ellaya leaned into his hand. Small movement. Accepting what he could give even if it wasn't enough.
Something cold spread through Sable's chest. Sank deeper.
Because his analytical mind was still working. Still arriving at conclusions he didn't want to examine:
*No rescue teams. No one searching. Wealthy merchant with resources—should have sent people. Unless he already concluded she was dead.*
*Or worse.*
*Unless he never tried at all.*
The cold settled like concrete. Heavy. Permanent.
*No matter what,* Sable thought. *I'm getting you home.*
*Even if home doesn't want you back.*
*Even if—*
"Thank you," Ellaya whispered.
Sable's hand stayed on her head longer than necessary. Making sure she knew—even if he couldn't promise the ending, he could promise the trying.
Her small hand found his. Squeezed.
They kept walking.
-----
Three hours in, Vrensura appeared.
Massive. Even from kilometers away, it dominated the landscape—walls fifty feet high, towers at intervals, the dull red glow of battery-powered lights painting everything crimson.
"Fuck," Bang breathed. "That's *huge*."
"That's civilization," Malvric said. "Or its best impression."
Sable's hand moved automatically. Covered his right eye. The blue one with red sclera. The identifier that would get them killed.
Even from this distance, he could see armored figures at the main gate. Guards. Multiple. Checking refugees with systematic efficiency.
*Checkpoint. Verification. Questions.*
His stomach tightened.
"Can we eat when we get in?" Bang's voice carried desperate hope. "Please tell me they have food."
"They'll have food," Malvric confirmed. "Medical supplies. Actual beds."
"I haven't been missing luxuries," Bang said. "I've been missing *not dying*. But luxuries sound cool too."
Ellaya stared at the citadel. Her face unreadable. "It's bigger than your home citadel Sable."
"Bigger than Prulla." Sable confirmed. His working eye scanning. Measuring. "More security. More people."
*More chances to be recognized.*
*More places this falls apart.*
He adjusted his hand. Wore the newly made makeshift eyepatch. Made sure his eye was covered completely.
Second chirped. Soft. Worried. The bird's black eyes tracked the citadel with wariness that mirrored Sable's own.
"Come on," Malvric said. Already walking. "The sooner we arrive, the sooner you can collapse."
Bang limped after him. "I'm gonna collapse *during* check-in. Just warning you."
"Please don't. It raises questions."
"My whole existence raises questions!"
Sable followed. Ellaya's hand in his. Second on her shoulder.
The walls grew larger. The guards becoming individuals instead of shapes.
Watching.
Waiting.
And Sable walked toward them with one hand covering his eye and the other holding a seven-year-old who trusted him completely.
*Just get through the gates,* he thought. *Answer questions. Don't fuck up.*
*Don't let them see.*
*Just survive.*
The citadel rose higher. Red lights painting the grey sky crimson. The guards at the gate standing at attention.
Ready to let them in.
Or ready to kill them trying.