Dawn came. The humans left.
Not defeated—they had won the battle, destroyed the village, killed countless Metkayina. But they hadn't won the war. The survivors were still alive. Still fighting. Still here.
They gathered in the largest cave, what was left of them. Metkayina and Omaticaya, warriors and elders and children. Rial was there, her arm in a sling, her face drawn with exhaustion. Seri was there, her eyes red but dry. Kaelen was there, hollow and broken but there.
"We can't stay," Rial said. "They'll be back. With more ships, more soldiers. Next time, they'll find the reef."
"Where can we go?" someone asked.
No one had an answer.
Kaelen spoke. His voice was rough, unused. "There's a place. In the mountains. Where the first battle happened. The humans think it's empty—they never found the caves, the hidden valleys. We could hide there. Rebuild. Wait."
"Wait for what?" Rial's voice was bitter. "Rescue? There is no rescue. No one's coming to save us."
"No." Kaelen met her eyes. "We save ourselves. We rebuild. We train. We learn. And when we're ready, we fight again. And again. And again. Until they leave or we die. There's no other way."
Silence.
Then, slowly, Seri stood. "He's right. We can't win tomorrow. Or next week. Or next year. But we can survive. We can endure. And every day we survive is a day they fail."
One by one, the others stood. Rial. The warriors. The elders. The children.
"We go to the mountains," Rial said. "We survive. We endure. And one day—one day—we fight back."