Julian was placed on patrol duty alongside Charlie, which he found lucky, considering they were both knew each other and were new recruits. Their task was to watch the interior of the enclave, walking a circular path that allowed them to cover a wide area without straying too far.
They weren't allowed to stand idle for too long.
Every few minutes, they had to keep moving, eyes sharp, ears alert for anything that might indicate danager.
Each of them carried a torch, a metal canister filled with oil, and three towels infused with a special slow-burning solution. The fabric would smolder steadily once lit, providing just enough flame to last through a portion of the night.
The boy found it very simple, low-tech—but very clever.
Julian understood the value of such an invention. Flashlights were long gone. Batteries were rare and carefully rationed. And even these oily rags had become a precious resource. Running out mid-shift wasn't an option so they had to be careful to protect the flame from a draft or putting it in a way that it burnt fast.
Still, that didn't make the job any more exciting.
After twenty minutes of walking, Julian would stop and listen and stand around for a few minutes or sit… and then do it all again.
Around the fourth time, he started to feel like a background character in a game—just another NPC patrolling a pointless route, repeating the same routine endlessly.
He yawn loudly feeling his eyes tremble as they tried to keep themselves open.
His arm ached from holding the torch for so long. He rolled his shoulders, rotating them in slow circles to loosen the stiffness.
The night air was a little cold. The scent of burning oil lingered in the air, mixing with the earthy musk of the enclave's stored wood for cooking made him twitch his nose as it wasn't the most pleasant of odors.
Two hours in.
And he was already desperate for sleep.
He guessed it was probably around ten or eleven at night.
The enclave was silent, with only the occasional creak of wood or distant rustle in the wind moving a loose sheet of metal breaking the stillness. It was a kind of quiet Julian wasn't used to—not back on Earth.
Back home, he'd probably be glued to a screen, playing games until he passed out. Or cramming to study days before an exam. His sleep schedule had been a mess… but it was still his best moments of being at home.
Now, things were different. Too different.
His thoughts drifted back to college—how he'd likely flunked out by now. He was already behind on a few subjects, and the mess with his ex-girlfriend hadn't helped. The whole trip had just been a temporary escape. One week back home, that was all he wanted.
And then the crash happened.
"Damn…" he muttered under his breath. "I wonder how my family's taking all this."
Were they still searching for him?
Was he on some missing person list? Or had everyone just assumed the plane crashed into the ocean and that was it?
Julian sighed.
These thoughts used to keep him up every night. The early days in the enclave were rough—no sleep, no peace, just guilt and confusion eating away at him. It wasn't until he started training and throwing himself into work that things quieted down. That he could breathe again.
Now, his mind stayed busier with survival, goals, and the strange new world around him.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the glowing stone Emma had given him. The taming stone.
It shimmered faintly, like it was alive—soft pulses of energy moving beneath its surface. It was strange, almost magical. And it held some unknown power.
The ability to form a bond with a creature. To tame it.
Julian had even considered asking about the Dire Wolf pups… but Serah's price was no joke.
5,000 coins!
That was more money than he could imagine having anytime soon.
Still… the dream was one of the things that kept him moving.
One day, he promised himself. One day soon he'd tame something great.
But for now, he had to let the idea go. Even if he begged for a pup on credit, he had no idea how long it would take to earn that much coin.
Julian was about to let his thoughts drift again when something stopped him.
A strange call.
Faint—but unnatural.
It echoed from somewhere near one of the taller sections of the wall.
He froze.
Then slowly, carefully, he stepped forward and pressed his ear against the cold metal, closing his eyes to focus.
And that's when he heard it.
Clicking.
Soft, constant, and a little quiet.
A sound he had been warned about from day one.
"Damn it…" Julian breathed.
Raptors.
He opened his eyes, heart pounding—and immediately spotted someone turning the corner.
Charlie.
The redhead strolled into view, completely carefree, humming to himself like it was just another quiet night.
Julian's stomach twisted.
The clicking sounds stopped as if he heard the boy's loud melody.
Seconds later, a loud, piercing shriek split through the air.
Julian raised his torch and waved it furiously.
Charlie blinked, only noticing the signal when Julian nearly flung the burning rag in his face.
"What is it, man?!" Charlie called out, startled.
Julian rushed him.
Without a word, he clamped a hand over Charlie's mouth.
"Did you not hear the damn raptors?" he hissed. "Go get the others—then find a safe place and stay there. Now!"
He didn't wait for a reply.
Julian sprinted toward the corner of the patrol path where he had stashed his gun and the emergency flare—an old signal system meant to alert the entire enclave.
His hands moved fast.
He didn't know if the flare would scare the creatures off.
But if it didn't…
They were going to need everyone awake.
Before he could react there was a sharp crack of a warning shot that came from another part of the enclave.
Lights around the enclave flickered on as people stirred from their beds.
Then the alarm rang out from the top of the tower—a deep, metallic clang that sent a jolt through the spine of everyone who heard it.
A voice followed, magnified by the old speakers wired across the walls.
"Everyone, protect yourselves!" Harris called out, steady and commanding despite the chaos.
"Raptors have once again come!"