For a long moment, no one moved.
The thing that had once terrorized them, an intelligent zombie with the eyes of a beast and the cunning of a man—lay still, its twisted body sprawled across the shattered concrete. Its neck was at an impossible angle, its remaining limbs twitching faintly before going limp. The air was heavy with the stench of decay and blood.
No one understood what had just happened.
One moment Garret had been roaring—his voice not quite human, thick with something primal, and then he'd whispered something none of them caught. A word.
And the creature had died.
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Kael's hands trembled slightly around his bow, the sheer heat of adrenaline still coursing through him. "What… what the hell was that?" he muttered, voice barely above a whisper.
Eira didn't answer. She stood with one arm clutching her shoulder, blood still dripping from the shallow cut. Her breathing was ragged, her eyes unfocused. Whatever Garret had done; it hadn't been natural. The moment that power had manifested, she had felt it like a scream in her bones. 'RUN', her instincts had said.
Kael stumbled toward her. "Eira, you're hurt. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," she said quickly, her tone sharp. But she wasn't. None of them were.
Kael frowned, not convinced. "Leah!" he called out, turning to where the healer stood amidst the rubble. "Get over here! Eira's bleeding!"
But Leah didn't move. Her lips slightly parted, her gaze fixed somewhere past the others. Her eyes weren't on the corpse. Not even on the ice wall or the debris. They were on Garret. He was sprinting toward the stairwell, toward the second floor. His movements were fast, unsteady, desperate.
Kael blinked, confused. "Leah, did you hear me?!"
Still no answer.
Her eyes shimmered faintly, reflecting the faint light filtering through the shattered windows. Garret was also hurt. She couldn't heal another person until she confirmed that he was okay.
Before Kael could take another step, Eira's voice cut through the air like the crack of a whip.
"Kael. Stop your childish barking."
He froze, looking back at her.
Eira straightened, pain flickering across her face as she lowered her hand from her shoulder. Her expression was cold, composed, but her eyes betrayed a storm underneath. Her gaze followed the fading echo of Garret's footsteps.
Kael swallowed, then looked again at Leah— how she still stood motionless, watching the stairwell as if afraid to blink. That simple, unspoken choice, the way she ignored his order, told them all they needed to know. Her loyalty wasn't with the group. It wasn't with Eira or Kael.
It was with him.
Eira didn't comment. She just sighed quietly, the tension in her shoulders softening as the cold air seeped through the cracks in the walls.
"Gather the loot," She said as she stepped towards the dorm eager to be reunited with her friend. Kael quickly following behind.
Eira's boots crunched on fragments of broken tile as she ascended to the third floor. Every few steps she passed the evidence of violence—deep knife marks scored into the walls, gouges where steel had bitten through stone, and blood that painted the once-white plaster a dark maroon.
She exhaled slowly, steadying herself. When she finally turned the last corner, she froze.
There—huddled in the far end of the corner in the room, five girls. Their faces were pale, their clothes torn and dirtied, but their eyes… their eyes were alive. The youngest, a tiny thing with tangled black hair, Mira looked up first. The instant she saw Eira, her expression cracked. Hope, disbelief, and relief all crashed together.
"Eira!" she cried, stumbling forward before Eira could react.
Then she was in Eira's arms, sobbing uncontrollably, small fists clutching at Eira's torn sleeve. The sound of it, raw and unrestrained, cut through the numb quiet of the floor. Eira blinked, and winced from the pain in her shoulder momentarily frozen, then wrapped her arms around her.
"It's okay," she whispered, voice softer than she intended. "It's okay now. You're safe."
The girl only cried harder, face buried against her.
Behind them, one of the older girls, Clara, eyes still sharp despite the exhaustion—stood slowly. Her lips trembled between a smile and a frown.
"You came for us," she said, voice hoarse.
Eira met her eyes, and for the first time that day, she smiled—a tired, weary smile. The two women shared a look—one of relief, of memory, of all the things that hadn't been said in the horrible days they hadn't seen each other.
Clara was the first to notice Kael lingering by the doorway, his bow still slung over his shoulder, his eyes fixed on Eira as if the chaos of the world had narrowed down to just her. Despite the exhaustion that hung over them all, Clara smiled.
"Kael?" she called softly, standing and brushing the dust from her skirt.
He blinked, clearly startled. "Clara? It's been… a while."
Clara stepped closer, lowering her voice with a mischievous glint. "Still following Eira around, I see. Guess some things really don't change."
Kael froze, then flushed scarlet. "I…It's not like that," he stammered, eyes darting anywhere but at her.
Clara folded her arms, clearly enjoying herself. "Uh-huh. Sure. You just happen to always be two steps behind her."
Before Kael could respond, Eira's voice cut through the air — calm, clipped, and cold as ice.
"Clara."
Clara straightened, the teasing look fading instantly. Eira's gaze slid past her, settling on Kael. Her expression didn't waver — that same mask of composed indifference she always wore, unreadable and untouchable.
When Clara's voice returned, it carried a fragile tremor. "The man who fought that… thing. Who was he?"
Eira's hand tightened slightly on Mira's shoulder. "He's with us," she said finally. "We came here together.
Clara exhaled shakily, her expression softening with admiration—or maybe gratitude. "He fought like a monster himself."
Eira didn't respond to that. She just nodded once. "Yeah… he did."
The group sat together for a while, the tension gradually easing, the faint cries of the younger girls fading into tired sniffles. For the first time in days, they could breathe. But the stillness didn't last.
Eira's gaze drifted toward the broken window. Something was gnawing at her chest Finally, she stood.
"We need to move soon. It's not safe here."
Clara nodded, rallying the others, but Eira lingered by the door. She looked back at the small, frightened group—at the hint of hope that had just returned to their faces, and then turned toward the silent stairway.
"…I'll be right back," she murmured.
She descended quickly, each step heavier than the last. And when she reached the second floor, in the room Garret was in, she stopped dead in her tracks.
Garret was there.