"You two—back off!"
A small but fierce voice rang out. Jax, still just a boy, stepped forward with fire in his eyes. He shoved the two kids looming over Mika. One stumbled back over a table, crashing onto the floor, while the other managed to hold his ground.
That one shoved Jax hard. Jax wiped the blood trickling from his lip and, without hesitation, unleashed a flurry of wild punches. His fists swung with reckless fury until the boy dropped cold to the ground.
The other kid scrambled up from the floor, rage in his eyes. He tackled Jax, dragging him through the doorway and into the kitchen. Pots clattered, plates shattered—chaos followed them.
"Enough!" a sharp voice cut through.
The caretaker stormed in, her stern face tightening as she saw the two boys wrestling on the tiles. Mika pressed herself into a corner, hands over her ears, whispering for Jax to stop.
But the fight only grew worse. Jax was shoved against the stove. A pot of boiling water tipped—scalding liquid poured down his neck. He screamed, writhing in pain as the caretaker rushed to him, desperately trying to wipe the burning water from his skin.
From the doorway, Leo and Rhea hurried to Mika's side, shielding her as she trembled.
---
Mika's eyes snapped open.
She lay in her futon, breath shaky, the weight of the memory still clinging to her chest. Sliding out of the bedding, she made her way across the quiet room—its paper walls and dark wood carrying the serene order of old traditions.
In the common room, Shan and Alice sat with steaming cups of coffee, their calm presence a strange comfort. Alice caught Mika's eye and smiled warmly.
"What's got you so quiet?" Mika asked.
Alice set her cup down, the corners of her mouth lifting. "Because today's the day."
Mika blinked, then turned to Shan. His gentle nod and faint, knowing smirk were all the confirmation she needed.
Excitement lit her face.
At that moment, Jax, Leo, Rhea, and Hana walked in. Jax arched a brow at her expression. "What's got Mika so worked up?"
Mika clenched her fists with anticipation, her voice carrying more determination than usual.
"We're going to bring Michael home."
Jax pumped his fist in the air, grinning ear to ear. Mika, unable to contain herself, bounded forward and leapt onto his back, clinging to him like an overjoyed child riding a horse.
"Oh, by we…" Alice's voice cut through the laughter, "…I mean Haruka, Rhea, Hana, Jax, and me."
The room fell silent.
Alice stepped closer, her words gentle but firm. "Leo and Mika—you'll stay."
Mika slid off Jax's back, the joy draining from her face. Disappointment weighed heavy in the air.
"But don't worry," Alice added quickly, her tone softening. "You two have the hardest task of all. You'll be assisting Mr. Shan."
That reassurance lit only the faintest spark in Mika's eyes.
"Wait—where's Haruka?" Hana asked, scanning the room as if he'd simply been hiding in plain sight.
"He's… preparing," Shan said, rising from his seat. His expression gave away nothing, only calm certainty.
At that moment, Eda and Rosemary entered quietly, bowing as Shan passed between them and left the room.
Alice clapped her hands together, trying to lift the mood. "You heard the man. Come on, let's get moving." She nudged Jax toward his room, her tone playful despite the tension lingering behind it.
"Damn… one man did this?" Kierah muttered from her perch on Lark's shoulder, surveying the wreckage. The ground was littered with twisted steel and blackened stone, what little remained of a Therma outpost.
"Yeah," Phillip answered flatly, pushing forward with the scavenging crew. "No survivors. Not one."
They dug through the rubble—broken shelves, cracked concrete, piles of scorched debris. The air smelled of ash and rot.
"Find anything yet?" Kierah's voice rang down the dark hall.
Phillip emerged from a shattered doorway, sweat on his brow. "Since we're scavenging for your sake too, it'd be nice if you actually helped."
Kierah groaned, rolling her eyes. She tapped Lark's shoulder, and the hulking brute gently lowered her to the ground.
"Go help the others," she ordered. Lark lumbered off, leaving her and Phillip in the hallway.
"What exactly do you want me to do?" she asked, strolling toward him.
Phillip shot her a side glance. "Are you always this lazy? Just help me with this shelf. There's a door behind it."
The two braced themselves against the metal frame. With a grunt, they shoved—until the shelf toppled with a crash that echoed through the base.
The hidden door burst open.
And the dead poured out.
Phillip was thrown back as a swarm of rotting hands clawed toward him. He drew his knife, plunging it into skulls, but there were too many. Kierah fell against a wall, pistol snapping up.
Pop! Pop! Two corpses dropped.
A third lunged, pinning her down. Her pistol jammed. She screamed, thrashing against the weight.
"LARK!"
The wall behind her exploded inward.
Lark barreled through like a wrecking ball, his massive hand clamping onto the zombie's face. With one violent wrench, he tore it apart, gore spraying across the room. He charged forward, crashing into the swarm and smashing bodies like pins scattered by a strike.
Kierah, covered in blood, rolled to her knees and reloaded. Two clean shots rang out, taking down the dead pinning Phillip.
Then silence.
The others arrived to find the room drenched in red. Lark stood hulking in the center, gore dripping from his mouth as he bit down on a zombie's arm. Kierah sat against the wall, chest heaving, blood streaking her face. Phillip staggered upright, streaks of crimson across his cheek.
---
Later, outside the ruins.
Phillip dropped onto a broken slab of concrete, groaning. "A bust."
Kierah sat beside Lark, scrubbing chunks of flesh off his skin with a rag. "Where's my cut?" she asked flatly.
"It's either at the second base…" Phillip took a swig from his canteen. "…or in H.O.T."
Kierah's eyes narrowed.
"Look, Kierah. I wanted to say tha—"
"Yo, Phillip!" a soldier called, rushing over.
"What?" Phillip snapped.
"It's General Ben. Says it's urgent." The man handed him a walkie.
Phillip disappeared for a moment. When he returned, he was already packing his gear.
"What's going on?" Kierah asked, irritation sharpening her voice.
"Plans changed. We're heading to H.O.T."
"Why?"
"Too many dead at the second base. They're calling it off. Too risky—even for you."
Kierah huffed but said nothing. Lark lifted her with ease, placing her on his shoulder again.
"Lead the way," she said coolly.
Phillip smirked despite himself, nodding. "With pleasure."
The squad moved out, their silhouettes shrinking into the wasteland as the sun bled over the horizon.