Dylan stepped onto one of the treadmills, his boots thudding against the motionless belt as he gripped the handrails. Dust coated the machine, disturbed only by his touch.
"Think we can train 'em here."
He scanned the rehabilitation gym. Rows of treadmills, stationary bikes, weight machines, parallel bars, and therapy equipment stretched across the floor.
"Good place for buildin' endurance. Strength. Balance." He shrugged. "We'll still need an actual trainin' yard outside... but this'll do for startin'. Can't have us relyin' on sirens forever."
Lucas slowly surveyed the room, already imagining it alive instead of abandoned. "Yeah..." he said. "Been thinking the same thing. Still a hell of a lot to do before we can call this place home."
Silence settled between them as they wandered farther into the gym.
Lucas stopped beside a cluster of treatment tables. "Think the Artificers'll like this much space?"
Dylan followed his gaze and gave a short nod. "Yeah. Big open floor. Solid concrete." He knocked the floor with the heel of his boot. "Can handle heavy workbenches." He swept an arm across the room. "We'll have to clear out all this equipment first."
Lucas jotted another note into the notebook tucked beneath his arm. "That settles the workshop." He looked toward the hallway before turning back to the sprawling building around them. "This building's bigger than I expected."
"It is."
Lucas frowned as another thought struck him. "Maybe we should move some people in here."
Dylan glanced out the window toward the quiet neighborhood below. "Nah."
Lucas looked at him. "Why not?"
"'Cause if I had a choice..." Dylan pointed toward the houses lining the street. "...I'd take a house with a front yard over sleepin' in a damn hospital."
Lucas let out a quiet laugh. "Fair enough." He flipped to a clean page. "Still leaves us with two empty floors."
Dylan leaned against the treadmill, thinking. "...Storage."
Lucas looked up.
"Big-ass storage." Dylan nodded once. "Emergency food. Ammo. Medical supplies. Tools. Spare parts." He pointed toward the floor beneath them. "Keep the important stuff down low."
"Why?"
"'Cause when everythin' goes sideways..." Dylan replied. "...you don't waste time climbin' stairs." He jerked a thumb toward the stairwell. "Grab what ya need and get out. Simple as that."
Lucas slowly nodded, writing as he spoke. "Makes emergency deployments faster..."
Dylan nodded.
Lucas smiled faintly. "I hadn't even thought about that." He scribbled another line into the notebook.
Together, they made their way toward the gym doors.
They stepped out of the rehabilitation gym and into the quiet hallway, their footsteps echoing through the empty floor.
Lucas looked down the long corridor lined with treatment rooms and offices before letting out a low whistle. "I'm tellin' you..." He shook his head with a grin. "We hit the jackpot with this place. Couple more watchtowers, reinforce the perimeter walls... this could be one hell of a home."
Dylan's eyes continued scanning the building rather than admiring it. "South fence."
Lucas glanced over. "What about it?"
"Broken section." Dylan kept walking. "Needs fixin'."
Lucas flipped open his notebook and scribbled another line.
Fix broken fence – South perimeter.
"The water tank too." Dylan added.
"Right." Lucas nodded, writing another note. "Water tank."
They reached the stairwell and started making their way down.
Lucas looked over the railing toward the floor below. "What about the second floor?" he asked. "Whole medical wing... and we don't even have a real doctor. Think we even need one?"
"Yeah."
Lucas looked at him.
"People get sick," Dylan said. "People get hurt." He descended another step. "Can't rely on Haelars forever. One day they'll head back t' the ocean."
Lucas slowly nodded. "Better to have it and not need it... than need it and not have it."
"Yeah."
For a while, only the sound of their boots filled the stairwell.
Lucas broke the silence. "Harrison would've loved having a place like this."
Dylan's expression hardened almost imperceptibly. "He would've."
Lucas stared down the flight of stairs. "The Winslows didn't deserve this."
Dylan shook his head. "None of us did." A brief silence followed. "Ava's all we got left from that family." Dylan rested a hand on the railing. "We owe it to Harrison to protect her…keep her alive."
Lucas nodded. "We've still got Emily and Harry to find."
Dylan didn't answer immediately.
They reached the first floor before he finally spoke.
"Keep lookin'."
Lucas glanced toward him.
"But don't promise yourself they're alive."
Lucas frowned. "You can't think like that."
"I don't." Dylan stopped near the bottom of the stairs and turned toward him. "This ain't the first time I've been through somethin' like this." He held Lucas's gaze. His voice remained calm, almost matter-of-fact. "My advice?" He shrugged. "Hope for the best."
A beat passed.
"Prepare for the worst."
Lucas looked down at the notebook in his hands. "That's a hard way to live."
"It is." Dylan turned toward the hospital entrance. "But it makes buryin' people a little easier."
The words lingered in the stairwell long after he'd walked away.
Lucas remained where he was, notebook hanging loosely at his side.
~~~
The hallway had grown livelier since Lucas and Dylan had begun their inspection.
Residents carried desks out of old offices, rolled filing cabinets across the floor, and swept years of dust into growing piles. The steady rhythm of hammers echoed through the medical building as furniture was dismantled and rooms slowly transformed into something useful again.
At the far end of the corridor, Darnell drove another nail into a wooden support before wiping the sweat from his forehead.
Lucas walked over. "Hey."
Darnell glanced up. "Hey." He rested the hammer on his shoulder. "You finish the rounds I told you about?"
Lucas nodded and held out the notebook. "Yeah. Here's the list."
Darnell took it, flipping through several pages before letting out a low whistle. "...That's quite the list." His eyes continued scanning the notes. "This all of it?"
"For now."
Darnell stopped at one of the entries.
Convert Physical Therapy Gym → Artificers' Station
He looked up. "Where's this?"
"Third floor," Lucas answered. "Old physical therapy gym. Huge open space. Figured you guys would appreciate having room to work."
Darnell rubbed his chin, already picturing the room in his head. "Hmm..." He nodded slowly. "Yeah... we'd like that." His eyes drifted upward toward the ceiling as though he were measuring it. "...Ceiling's too low."
Lucas looked up instinctively. "Too low?"
"For now." Darnell took the notebook and tapped the page. "Once my Energy Pulser gets here..." He pointed toward the roof. "...that won't be."
Lucas frowned. "You're serious?"
"Dead serious." Darnell chuckled. "Might have to cut a hole straight through the roof."
"Why?"
Darnell simply smiled. "You'll see."
Before Lucas could ask another question, the squeak of straining wheels echoed in the room. Three residents carefully pushed a heavy stainless-steel surgical table toward Darnell, its locked casters resisting every few feet as they wrestled it over the worn floor.
"Boss," one of them called.
Darnell turned. "What have you got?"
The resident stopped, wiping sweat from his brow. "This table."
Darnell looked it over. "Hmm..." He ran a hand along the steel surface. "Surgical table... if I'm remembering right?"
The resident nodded. "Yeah." He pointed toward the demolition crew farther down the hall. "We taking it outside? Make more room?"
Lucas stepped forward. "Hold on."
Both men looked at him.
"Don't."
Darnell raised an eyebrow. "You think it's worth keeping?"
Lucas nodded. "Back at the manor, we chained a shrieker to a steel table so Jenkins could examine it." His eyes lingered on the table. "I've got a feeling he'd appreciate having one of these."
Darnell looked between Lucas and the table before nodding. "...Fair enough." He gave the steel surface a firm shove.
It barely moved.
He nodded to himself. "Solid frame."
Another tap against the steel.
"Medical-grade stainless." He looked at Lucas. "That's not scrap…that's a workbench."
Lucas blinked. "It's a surgical table."
"It is." Darnell grinned. "So is a wrench until somebody uses it as a hammer." He turned toward the residents. "Leave it." He pointed toward one of the empty rooms. "Push it in there for now. Once we knock down that wall, we'll have plenty of space."
"Got it, boss." The residents gripped the table again and wheeled it away.
Darnell looked back at Lucas. "We'll tackle this one job at a time."
Lucas nodded quietly before checking the cracked watch strapped around his wrist. The glass was fractured, but the hands still moved. His expression shifted.
"Ah..." He sighed. "My turn at the gate."
Darnell nodded. "Okay."
"I'll check back later." Lucas gave one last look down the busy hallway before heading for the exit.
Behind him, the sounds of hammers, scraping furniture, and determined voices filled the medical building—slowly replacing years of silence with the unmistakable noise of people building a home.
~~~
Meanwhile, miles away from Havenwall, Lysander crouched beside a patch of disturbed earth. His fingers brushed over the soil. "...Footprints."
Saige knelt beside him, studying the marks carved into the damp ground. "They're... dragged."
"Yeah." Lysander traced one of the grooves with a fingertip. "Not human." He rose to his feet in one smooth motion, tightening his grip on his Pegacampus' reins. "Stay sharp."
The other sirens immediately spread out, instinctively widening the formation as they began following the trail.
The forest swallowed them.
Branches swayed gently overhead while dead leaves muffled their footsteps. Even the Pegacampi seemed to sense the tension, snorting quietly as they picked their way between the trees.
After several minutes, Saige glanced toward Lysander. "You sure this trail is right?"
"Not really." Lysander didn't look away from the ground. "Haven't tracked much on land." A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Interesting challenge."
They continued in silence.
Every few dozen meters, Lysander paused to study another print, another broken branch, another patch of flattened grass.
Then...
The trees ended. An open field stretched before them.
Lysander immediately raised a clenched fist.
The entire group stopped.
Raine stepped beside him. "Humans?"
Lysander didn't answer. Instead, he closed his eyes.
The mark on the back of his neck pulsed with a faint silver glow. The Velaric's Gift awakened.
He drew a slow breath. Then he sharpened his focus.
Not on the world around him...
But on his hearing.
The forest seemed to fall away.
The distant murmurs that had drifted across the clearing moments ago unfolded into something far clearer.
Groans. Low, guttural growls. The wet scrape of dragging feet. Teeth grinding against teeth. Bones clicking with every uneven step.
Lysander slowly opened his eyes.
Then shifted the Gift.
The glow along the Velaric's mark pulsed once more as he redirected his focus from his ears to his sight.
The blurry silhouettes standing beyond the field suddenly sharpened.
Decaying flesh. Rotting faces. Clouded eyes fixed on nothing. Jaws hanging unnaturally wide. Strings of dried blood clinging to broken teeth.
He could even distinguish the way individual Shriekers staggered—their uneven gait, the missing limbs, the twitching spasms running through their bodies.
"...Shriekers."
Saige frowned. "Shriekers?"
Lysander gave a slight nod. "The same creatures we fought escorting the Chief of Harborville to the manor."
"...Right." Recognition spread across Saige's face. "I almost mistook them for humans."
Lysander looked beyond the wandering horde. "There." He pointed toward a large building standing alone in the distance beyond the field. "That's our destination."
Raine followed his finger. "So we fly over."
"No."
"Why?"
"They'll see us."
Raine folded her arms. "We can't exactly walk through that." She gestured toward the field.
Hundreds of Shriekers drifted aimlessly stretching from one side of the clearing to the other.
"If we go around," Raine continued, "we lose hours."
The group fell silent, their eyes drifting toward the field.
The horde wandered aimlessly, some colliding with one another before shambling off in different directions. Others simply stood motionless beneath the overcast sky.
Saige frowned. "Wonder why so many are gathered here."
Lysander studied the field without answering. "...Don't know." His gaze shifted beyond the horde to the distant building. "But the people we are looking for..." He narrowed his eyes. "...might be on the other side of them."
Raine exhaled. "So either we cut through..."
"...or we waste daylight going around," Saige finished.
Lysander considered the options for another moment before turning back toward the forest. "We're not fighting tired." He gave a gentle tug on his Pegacampus' reins. "We find somewhere hidden."
Raine glanced at him. "...Then what?"
"We leave the Pegacampi." He started walking. "Get some rest." Another step. "We move after dark."
Saige cast one last look toward the wandering Shriekers. "And the horde?"
Without slowing, Lysander replied, "One problem at a time."
The sirens silently followed him beneath the shelter of the trees, leaving the distant groans to drift across the empty clearing.
~~~
Duncan crouched beside the ARC's exposed maintenance panel, tightening one final connection before stepping back. He brushed the dust from his hands and gave the craft an approving pat. "Seems like we're all good."
Yve looked at the sleek black hull. "You sure?"
"Yeah." Duncan grinned. "Decades of sitting idle and not a single major malfunction." He gave the ARC another pat. "This baby will glide just like she used to."
Yve and Ysa exchanged a glance.
Duncan folded the maintenance panel shut. "She will need a little time to wake up once we activate her." He turned toward them. "While she's doing that, we'll gather what we need."
Yve nodded. "Alright."
"I'll swing by my place first, grab a few personal things." Duncan looked between the sisters. "After that, you two can help me move mine and Darnell's Energy Pulser."
Ysa tapped the ARC's smooth hull with her fingertips. "Got it."
Duncan motioned toward the rear of the craft. "Let's wake her up."
The three walked around to the back, where a circular panel sat seamlessly embedded within the ARC's obsidian shell.
No buttons. No handles. Just a perfectly smooth surface.
Duncan stepped aside. "Go ahead, Yve."
Yve approached slowly. She raised her hand toward the panel...
...then hesitated.
Her fingers hovered only centimeters away. Before she could make up her mind—
Ysa stepped in front of her. She placed a palm firmly against the panel.
Yve blinked. "Hey." She gently grabbed Ysa's arm. "What are you doing?"
Ysa didn't answer.
The panel responded instantly. Soft blue rings rippled beneath its surface. With a mechanical click, segments of the panel twisted apart. The mechanism folded around Ysa's hands, locking them gently—but firmly—in place.
Yve's eyes widened. "...Ysa."
Tiny needle-like spines emerged from within the mechanism.
Ysa flinched. A sharp sting. Nothing more.
Small beads of crimson welled from dozens of tiny punctures across her palms.
The blood disappeared into the mechanism. Deep inside the ARC, channels filled with a luminous blue fluid.
The two liquids met.
Crimson. Azure.
They merged into a brilliant violet glow before flowing deeper into the craft's intricate inner network. A low hum answered.
The mechanism released her hands.
Ysa pulled them back and examined her palms. Dozens of tiny circular punctures dotted her skin.
Almost immediately, the Haelar's Mark on the back of her neck shimmered. Warm light spread through her arms.
Before Yve's eyes, the wounds knit themselves closed.
Within seconds...
They were gone. As though they had never existed.
Yve stared at her. "...Why?"
Ysa flexed her hand once before looking up. "Because you're stubborn." A small grin tugged at the corner of her mouth. "As stubborn as a dolphin."
Yve couldn't help rolling her eyes.
Ysa's grin widened. "If you're getting punished..." She shrugged. "...then I'm getting punished too."
Yve stared at Ysa's palms before looking up at her in disbelief. "...Are you insane?"
Ysa raised an eyebrow.
Yve continued. "You trying to be my cellmate or something?"
Ysa tilted her head. "Well..." She shrugged. "You wouldn't tell me what you did." She held up her freshly healed hands. "So if I have to go to jail with you just to get you to talk..." Another shrug. "...then yeah."
Yve let out an exasperated grunt. "Unbelievable."
Silence settled between them.
Finally, Yve shook her head. "...That was incredibly stupid."
Ysa frowned. "How is it stupid?"
"Because you're risking yourself for nothing." Yve stepped closer, her voice losing its edge. "One way or another..." She gestured toward the ARC. "...I'm getting punished." Her eyes settled on the still-glowing activation panel.
"I knew that before I ever laid a hand on the book I read to turn Jenkins into a siren." She met Ysa's gaze. "I knew exactly what I was getting into."
A heavy silence followed.
Ysa's expression slowly changed. The humor disappeared from her face. "...You what?"
Behind them, Duncan froze. His head snapped toward Yve. "...You what?"
The question hung in the air.
The faint hum of the awakening ARC was suddenly the only sound inside the hangar.
Ysa took a slow step forward, her expression hardening. "...You did what?"
Yve met her eyes for only a moment before looking away.
Duncan stared at her in stunned silence. "Oh, Grace..." he breathed, running a hand over his face. "Yve... what have you done?"
Ysa closed the remaining distance between them. "No." Her voice was calm, but firm. "Say it again."
Yve's hands slowly curled into trembling fists. "I..."
The word caught in her throat.
She lowered her head, forcing herself to breathe.
When she looked up again, her eyes glistened. Tears threatened to spill, but she stubbornly held them back. "...I had no choice."
Ysa said nothing. She simply waited.
Yve swallowed hard. "I couldn't let him die." Her voice trembled. "I had to wake him from the Lily Somnara's hold." She shook her head. "But even then...I didn't know how much time he had before he turns."
Her breathing grew uneven. "Even the powers of the Arcan Haelar couldn't save him." Another pause. "I didn't have another choice."
Ysa stepped forward and seized both of Yve's shoulders. Her grip wasn't cruel. It was steady. As though anchoring both of them. "Do you even understand..." Her voice cracked. "...the gravity of what you've done?"
Yve's face crumpled. She nodded once. "I do."
"No." Ysa's eyes shimmered. "I don't think you do."
Yve closed her eyes. "The Book is gone."
Silence.
Her next words barely escaped her lips. "...A Slytharian was there."
Duncan's face drained of color.
Ysa stared at her. For several long seconds...
She couldn't speak.
Finally—
"...Why?" Her voice was barely above a whisper. "Why didn't you just let him die?"
Yve's lips quivered. "I..." Her voice broke. "I couldn't."
Ysa's grip tightened. "He's a human, Yve." Her voice rose despite herself. "His life is fleeting."
Silence.
"He would've lived, what?" Ysa continued. "A few decades? A hundred years, if he was lucky. Then he would've become dust like every other human before him." Her breathing shook. "So why? Why would you risk everything for him?"
Yve's tears finally escaped. One. Then another. She looked straight into her sister's eyes. "...Because not saving him felt more wrong."
The words hung heavily between them.
Ysa looked away. Her jaw tightened. She wanted to argue. She wanted to tell Yve she had made the biggest mistake of her life.
Instead...
She saw the fear on her sister's face.
Yve's voice was almost inaudible. "...I'm scared..." A shaky breath. "...Sis."
That was all it took.
Ysa's resolve broke. Without another word, she pulled Yve into a tight embrace.
Yve stood frozen for only a heartbeat before her knees weakened. She clutched the back of Ysa's shirt with trembling hands.
The tears she'd fought so hard to contain soaked silently into her sister's shoulder.
No sobs. No cries. Only quiet tears.
Ysa held her tighter. Her own eyes burned. "It's okay..." Her voice faltered. "We'll figure this out." She closed her eyes. "It's okay..."
Duncan slowly walked over. He rested a gentle hand on Yve's shoulder. He searched for something—anything—to say.
Nothing came.
There were no words that could untangle what had already been set in motion.
Yve buried her face against Ysa's shoulder. "I'm sorry..." Her voice cracked. "I'm so sorry..." Another breath. "I'm sorry for everything." Her mind raced through every consequence she could imagine, each one worse than the last.
None of which could be undone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author's Note;
Poor Yve...
Unfortunately for her... I already know exactly what's waiting for her. I made sure every step was carefully outlined for our dear protagonist.
😈😈😈
Wanna take a guess?