We thought we had sealed the Pulsator yesterday. But no such luck—the stabilizing pin failed, and today we had to go back to finish what we started. Fortunately, the Pulsator was already weakened, but even so, securing the seal came at a massive cost.
We walked in silence. The forest around us was slowly releasing its tension, exhaling along with us now that the Pulsator was finally sealed. The mist had thinned, leaving behind nothing but damp, cool air and a sharp tang of ozone that lingered in the nose.
I brought up the rear. Step by step. Slowly. Because for some reason, my body refused to hurry.
"Will to Live" fell quiet. It hadn't shut down, nor was it suppressed. It was just... silent. It unnerved me more than the physical exhaustion.
"Don't stare at the ground like it owes you something," Zeno said without turning around.
I let out a short breath, trying not to break my breathing rhythm. "Just thinking."
"I can tell. Too much noise coming from your thoughts."
We walked a bit further. Branches crunched underfoot; somewhere in the distance, a bird shrieked sharply.
"Expecting me to say 'great job'?" Zeno suddenly asked, stopping and turning to face me.
"No," I replied quickly. Then, after a pause, I added, "Maybe. A little."
Zeno smirked. "You did everything right, Iron. And if you think that makes things any easier—forget it."
"Why? We sealed the point. Everyone's alive."
"Control isn't a reward," he said, narrowing his eyes as he examined my battered armor. "It's a responsibility. It doesn't automatically make you stronger or happier."
I nodded.
"What if I make the wrong choice one day?" The question slipped past my lips before I could filter it.
Zeno remained silent for a long time, staring up at the tree canopies tangled in the remnants of the mist.
"Then you'll learn the price," he finally said. "Just like everyone else. And believe me—you'll have to pay it alone."
He turned away and continued down the trail. We didn't exchange another word all the way back to the camp.
We reached the campsite closer to noon. The other hunters and mages dispersed almost immediately. Kyle, looking completely drained, headed straight into his tent without so much as a glance in my direction. Bram collapsed onto a pile of branches, closing his eyes.
"Why is that Pulsator so stubborn..." Rina exhaled tiredly. "It pisses me off."
I sat down, leaning my back against the wall of our cabin, not even bothering to take off my armor. I just sank to the ground, feeling the chill of the soil seep through my clothes. It felt... good.
About five minutes later, my hands started to shake.
"Damn it..." I muttered, trying to clench my fists.
I tried to stand up. My legs obeyed, but the sensation was ridiculous—it felt like I was operating a puppet. My body lagged behind my brain by a fraction of a second. That tiny delay was driving me crazy. I sat back down, slumping against the logs.
My breathing hitched. A delayed reaction from my system to all the crap I had channeled through myself when I acted as a shunt for Bram.
"Will to Live" stirred. It was as if it were saying, I'll fix everything, just use me. I'll restore nerve conduction. Cut corners. It whispered, Just let me in, and you'll go back to normal. You don't have to feel any of this.
"No," I said aloud. "Not now. Handle it yourself."
The trembling worsened. I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees, and just breathed.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Slowly.
Images of the battle flashed through my head. What if the anomaly's strike had been a bit stronger? What if Bram hadn't held the flow? What if I had miscalculated the armor's conductivity? I caught myself tallying potential catastrophes instead of successes. There were far more of them than I had realized in the heat of combat.
By the time my hands finally stabilized, exhaustion hit me like a wall.
I started stripping off the armor. The bone plates clinked softly as I leaned them against the wall. They looked intact. It was almost strange—not a single crack after that kind of overload. The damper system had worked. The mechanics didn't fail me.
I crawled into the tent and lay down on the old bedding.
I closed my eyes, but sleep wouldn't come. My thoughts spun in circles, catching on one another. And then one hit me.
What if I don't want to survive?
It only made the weight heavier.
"Thinking about something again, Iron?"
I flinched violently, blindly groping for leverage, and turned my head. To the right, sitting in the semi-darkness by the wall, was...
"Zeno? What are you doing here?"
"Sleeping," he grumbled. "But you and your thoughts are getting on my nerves."
"Oh... sorry."
"If something's eating at you, spit it out. It won't kill you."
I kept quiet for a moment. The words refused to form, sticking somewhere in my throat. But then I finally exhaled, "Why did you take me in?"
Zeno turned his head slightly. "What do you mean?"
"Why did you..." I hesitated, searching for the right words. "...take me under your wing? Start teaching me. Give me food, a place to stay... all of this."
A long silence hung between us. I thought he wouldn't answer.
But he spoke up anyway: "You remind me of someone."
I frowned. "Who?"
"Let's just say... my first student."
I propped myself up on an elbow. "A student?.."
But no answer followed. Zeno was already breathing evenly, his face turned toward the wall. A few seconds later, his breathing grew heavier—he had simply drifted off.
I lay there for a while longer, staring into the dark, then let out a quiet sigh and sank back down onto the bedding.
A student, huh?
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