The chamber felt colder in the wake of Vesper's departure, as if his presence had been the only thing keeping the darkness at bay. The blood stench lingered, thick and cloying, wrapping around us like a shroud we couldn't shake off. The pile of bodies in the center loomed like a grotesque monument, silent witnesses to our failure. Flies buzzed lazily now, drawn to the fresh carnage, their drone a low, mocking hum that vibrated in my ears. Blood pooled beneath the mound, still spreading in slow, viscous tendrils that reached toward our feet like accusing fingers.
I stood frozen, my cheek throbbing from where Vesper had struck me, a bruise already blooming hot and tender under my skin. My heart hammered in my chest, a frantic rhythm that made my hands tremble. We'd lost the scroll—again. And that man... Vesper... with his shattered blue eyes and that deep, seductive voice, had toyed with us like we were nothing. He'd walked away unscathed, laughing, leaving us broken and bleeding.
Lira holstered her gun with a sharp click, her face a mask of controlled fury. Blood trickled from a cut on her forehead, but she wiped it away without flinching, her sharp eyes scanning the chamber for threats that weren't there anymore. Kael slumped against a rusted console, cradling his broken hand, his face pale and drawn. Pain etched deep lines around his eyes, and he breathed through his teeth, each exhale a hiss.
But Xeno...
Xeno was the worst.
He had been swaying on his feet ever since Vesper vanished into the shadows, his body trembling like a leaf in a storm. Sweat poured off him in sheets, soaking his jacket, plastering his hair to his forehead. His blindfold was dark with it, clinging to his skin. The shovel lay forgotten at his side, his hands clenched into fists so tight his knuckles were white.
Then he collapsed.
It happened suddenly—one moment he was standing, rigid and silent, the next his knees buckled, and he crumpled to the blood-slicked floor like a puppet with its strings cut. His body hit the ground with a dull thud, sending a small spray of blood droplets into the air. He lay there, chest heaving, skin burning hot to the touch even from where I knelt beside him.
"Xeno!" I cried, scrambling to his side. My hands hovered over him, afraid to touch, afraid I'd hurt him more. His face was flushed, feverish, sweat beading and rolling down his temples in rivulets. His breathing was shallow, ragged, each inhale a labored gasp. The terror from Vesper's gaze still lingered in the way his body twitched, muscles spasming involuntarily as if reliving the nightmare.
Kael limped over, dropping to one knee with a grimace. "He's burning up. Fever. That... whatever that man did to him with just a look... it broke something inside."
Lira crouched opposite us, her expression unreadable but her eyes sharp, assessing. She pressed two fingers to Xeno's neck, checking his pulse. "Rapid. Elevated temperature. Shock combined with whatever psychological trigger those eyes caused. He's out cold."
I swallowed hard, tears pricking my eyes. Xeno looked so small like this—vulnerable, human in a way I'd never seen. The boy who had carried me without breaking a sweat, who had dismantled monsters with terrifying precision, now lay unconscious and feverish on a floor stained with blood.
"We need to move him," Kael said, voice strained. "Can't stay here. More Xenophores will smell the blood."
Lira nodded, but her gaze lingered on Xeno's face—specifically, on the blindfold. It was soaked through, clinging to his skin, the edges frayed from constant wear. She'd noticed it before, the way he guarded it like a secret, but now, with him unconscious...
I wonder what's under those blindfolds," she said quietly, her voice flat but laced with curiosity. "Maybe now's our chance to check."
Kael hesitated, glancing at me. His eyes held the same question we'd all wondered since meeting Xeno: Why the blindfold? What was he hiding? In a world where sight was survival, why blind himself?
I bit my lip, staring at Xeno's flushed face. Part of me wanted to know—needed to know. He'd saved me so many times, but there were walls around him thicker than any canyon. The way Vesper's eyes had shattered him... maybe the answer was there, under the cloth.
Slowly, I nodded. "Yeah... maybe we should."
Kael exhaled, a mix of reluctance and agreement. "He's out. If there's something wrong... we need to know. For his sake."
Lira reached out first, her fingers careful but determined, hovering over the edge of the blindfold. The chamber was silent save for Xeno's labored breathing and the distant drip of blood from the pile. The air felt charged, heavy with anticipation.
My heart pounded as I leaned in, my small hand joining Lira's. The blindfold was damp with sweat, warm from his fever. I hooked a finger under the edge, gentle, ready to pull it away—
His hand shot up like a viper striking.
Fingers clamped around my wrist with crushing strength, stopping me cold. Pain flared in my bones, but it was the shock that froze me—the sudden, iron grip from someone who had been unconscious seconds ago.
Xeno's eyes snapped open—or rather, the blindfold stared at me, dark and unreadable. But his voice... his voice was low, deadly calm, laced with a tone I'd never heard from him before. Cold. Threatening.
"Try to take a peek," he said, each word deliberate, edged with steel, "and I won't hesitate to kill you."
I gasped, yanking back, but his grip held firm for a terrifying second longer. Fear flooded me—not the monster kind, but something deeper. Xeno, my protector, the boy who'd carried me when I couldn't walk, who'd shared his food without question—he'd just threatened to kill me. The tone was flat, emotionless, but the promise in it was real. His fever-hot skin burned against my wrist, and his breathing was still ragged, but his hold was unbreakable.
Tears sprang to my eyes, hot and unbidden. "Xeno... I—I'm sorry—"
He released me abruptly, sitting up with a wince. The movement sent a fresh wave of sweat rolling down his face, and he pressed a hand to his temple, grimacing as the headache lingered. He sighed, long and weary, the deadly edge fading from his voice like smoke.
"I didn't really mean it," he muttered, not looking at any of us. His tone was softer now, almost apologetic, but strained with exhaustion and pain. "Just... don't. Ever."
The chamber fell silent again, heavier this time. Lira withdrew her hand slowly, her expression neutral but her eyes calculating. Kael shifted uncomfortably, rubbing his neck. I cradled my wrist, the imprint of Xeno's fingers throbbing, fear and hurt twisting in my chest. He'd scared me—truly scared me—for the first time.
Xeno leaned back against the wall, breathing steadying, but the fever still flushed his skin. He didn't explain, didn't apologize further. Just sat there, blindfold in place, guarding his secret with the same ferocity he'd use against a Xenophore.
We didn't push. The curiosity was still there, burning, but so was the fear of what might happen if we did.
Kael broke the silence first, clearing his throat. "We... we should scavenge what we can. Those bodies... travelers, by the look of them. Packs, supplies. Vesper killed them for the thrill, got bored with us and left. We can't waste it."
Lira nodded, standing smoothly. "Agreed. Food, clothes, medical. Move fast."
I hesitated, glancing at Xeno. He waved a hand weakly. "Go. I'll... watch."
His voice was hoarse, the fever still gripping him, but he forced himself upright, shovel in hand again. The threat hung unspoken: don't touch the blindfold.
We spread out, careful not to disturb the bodies more than necessary. The travelers—there were at least twenty, men and women, some young, some old—had been a large group, well-equipped. Their packs lay scattered around the pile, torn open in places, but much intact. Vesper hadn't cared for supplies; he'd killed for the violence, the rush of it, carving through them like they were toys until boredom set in. With us, he'd toyed longer, testing our limits, then walked away when it stopped amusing him.
It was a mystery—how had so many travelers banded together with such gear? Clean clothes, canned food sealed pre-fall style, water purifiers, even ammunition. A first aid box, sturdy and full: bandages, antiseptics, painkillers, sutures. More than we'd seen in months.
Kael rifled through one pack, pulling out vacuum-sealed rations. "This... this is military grade. Pre-collapse surplus. How did they have so much?"
Lira examined a jacket—clean, reinforced, with hidden pockets. "Organized group. Maybe from an Enclave remnant. Or scavengers who hit a big cache."
I found clothes my size—small pants, a shirt, even socks. Clean. The fabric felt like luxury after weeks of filth. Tears stung my eyes again as I clutched them. Simple things, but in this world, miracles.
We worked quickly, stuffing packs with food, water tablets, medical supplies. Kael bandaged his hand, swallowing painkillers with a grimace. Lira cleaned her cuts, efficient as always. I changed behind a console, the new clothes fitting almost perfectly, warm and dry for the first time in forever.
Xeno watched from his spot, feverish but alert, shovel across his lap. He didn't join the scavenging, just sat there, guarding his secret.
When we were done, packs heavy with loot, Kael looked at the pile one last time. "We should... say something. For them."
Lira shook her head. "No time. And words won't bring them back."
I whispered a quiet prayer anyway, for the dead, for us.
Xeno stood shakily, leaning on his shovel. The fever still burned, but he waved off help. "We move. Find another way out."
Lira nodded, leading once more.
As we left the chamber, the blood stench fading behind us, I glanced back at Xeno. He walked slower, fever slowing him, but his blindfold was secure.
The threat lingered in my mind: *I won't hesitate to kill you.*
He'd said he didn't mean it.
But in that moment, he had.
And that scared me more than any Xenophore.