Before dawn, Steve takes Rod by the hand. He does not tell Rod where they are going, but Rod need to follow him faithfully. Once in a while, Steve looks back at Rod behind him. He knows Rod is nervous; he has always hated change and feels uncomfortable with mystery. But one gentle smile from Steve is enough to calms the nervousness. Steve's grip on his hand isn't tight, and yet, Rod doesn't let go.
"Where are we going?" Rod finally asks.
However, Steve answers, "Just trust me."
And so, he trusts.
Across the bushes, through the woods, surrounded by the silence of the forest—and sometimes the rotting corpses of mutants killed days before—they step cautiously yet swiftly. They must travel under the cover of darkness because when the sun rises, they need to return to report for the night watch.
As daylight slowly breaks through the darkness, the shadows fade away, and they reach the edge of the forest.
It is a beach—a hidden one.
Something important lies there: a stranded, abandoned yacht, stuck in the sand and corals. There is a word written on it's body, "SKY!"
"What is that?" Rod whispers, his eyes widening in awe. He hadn't expected to find something like this here. But more than that, it proves to him—humanity does exist beyond this tiny, isolated island.
Steve walks forward, gesturing as if introducing the yacht to Rod. "I found this months ago. Everything still works—I can even turn it on, and the engine runs fine. Do you know what this is?"
"It's a ship," Rod answers.
"More than that, babe." Steve turns to Rod and whispers, "This is my way out of here."
"Your way out?" Rod doesn't like the sound of that.
Steve turns his back on him. "Because I'm leaving—out to the sea! To the whole new world! Are you coming with me?"
"Steve," Rod calls. He would follow Steve anywhere, but the thought of leaving the island, the bunker, and their daily routine terrifies him. He doesn't know what's out there. Life is already good down there, why we need to shake it off? "Reconsider this. I know you hate Cezar—I won't blame you. But I can protect you."
"You can't always be there for me, Rod. Remember last night? You had to leave to check on something that wasn't even there," Steve says, tilting his head.
"Yes, but..." Rod is in great turmoil. He knows that if he wants to be with Steve, he has to choose the scariest option—the unknown.
"Come here." Steve takes Rod's hand and pulls him toward the yacht. It's not too small, not too big—just enough to fit a small, happy family with a dad, mom, and three kids. Steve steps onto the yacht, but Rod hesitates. This would be a life completely different from everything he's ever known. A life without routine, without schedules, without responsibility toward anyone but himself. A vessel to a life where he is on his own—a free man.
"What's wrong, big guy? Scared?" Steve smiles gently.
Rod taps the yacht's floor, feeling its stability. It's stuck on the corals—that must be why it has remained here for months.
He follows Steve, who walks to the driver's wheel and pretends as if they're already on a cruise.
"Rod, can you feel it? The wind... the waves... the freedom!" Steve stretches his arms wide open, the image of them sailing across the vast ocean vivid in his mind.
"The storm is coming, Rod, watch the hull!" Steve runs toward the edge of the ship, his movements flowing like a dance.
"Careful, you'll fall," Rod warns.
But Steve doesn't care. He stands tall at the edge, arms wide open. "Rod... isn't it exciting? A place we've never seen before, a whole new world with sunshine, rainbows, and storms. This world got so much to offer, it's an opportunity for us to witness it's greatness and mysteries. Why wasted our precious life being a mole man, hiding underground?"
"It sure is exciting, but..." Rod tries to step into Steve's idea of freedom. But the thought of leaving everything behind, knowing there will be no way back—it makes him hesitate. Do I really want this?
Maybe. I don't know for sure.
However, one thing I am sure of… is that I want to be with Steve.
It doesn't matter where.
Anywhere is meaningless without Steve. If he wants to leave, Rod is more than willing to follow. He doesn't mind breaking through his fear if it means being with Steve. Even if he has to go through hell, with trembling and shaking legs, he would do it.
However, there is something he cannot violate. And Steve must know about it.
"Actually, Cezar talked to me," Rod finally says, breaking the moment.
Steve turns. "What is it?"
"He made me his successor. Right after his death, I'm supposed to lead these people, so... I don't know if I can come with you. But I don't want to hold you back, Steve." Rod steps closer, rubbing his thumb against Steve's shocked face.
"He made you what?" His green eyes widens in shock.
"His successor," Rod repeats. "I already signed the will. Everything will be mine, under my command. Finally no one will underestimate me again."
"But... when?"
"Before night watch. When I bought noodles, he called me and made me sign the will," Rod confesses.
"Oh..." Steve's expression shifts, the light in his eyes dimming.
It breaks Rod's heart. He cups Steve's face gently, his hands resting under his ears. "Don't be sad. You don't have to be down there. You're free to go."
Tears roll down Steve's cheeks. The weight of it crashes over him—he has to sacrifice his dream or sacrifice Rod. He loves both, and he can't choose.
"I won't hold you back, Steve. I see it in your eyes—you've never been happier than when you talk about your freedom. Don't let me be the thing that stops you from living your dream," Rod says.
Steve shakes his head and force himself to smile when he pulls Rod into a tight embrace. "No. I'll stay, too. The world indeed has so much to offers, there's no point of that if you're not in it."
"Don't. Don't think that way. Just go. I'll protect your dream," Rod whispers, wrapping his arms around him.
"You don't need to protect me from anything! It's okay, Rod. Besides, Cezar has the key to this thing anyway, so I can't leave," Steve wipes his tears and shrugs.
Rod stiffens. "Cezar has the key?"
"Yeah, he stole it from me so I couldn't leave." Steve smiled bitterly. "I guess it's a sign for me, then."
"Steve, I'm sorry, but I promise it will be worth it. Once I become the leader, we can do anything we want," Rod said, holding Steve's hand tightly.
But Steve placed his finger on Rod's lips, no anger, just full acceptance. "Back then when I acted crazy, you just held me without needing any explanation or judgement. Now, you don't need to explain anything to me. As long as we're together, I'm happy. I'll support you along the way, so I hope you do your best in your new position, babe."
Rod felt overwhelming gratitude for Steve. Holding him tightly, he made a silent vow—this would all be worth it. Once he became the leader, he would give Steve everything he wanted and needed.
***
Alone in the toilet, Rod has time to contemplate. The only thing he feels is regret.
Yesterday, while buying instant noodles, Cezar summoned him to the office and made him an offer. He claimed he needed a successor—and he chose Rod.
Rod signed the agreement, thinking it was the best way to prove his worth. If he became the General who ran the bunker, Steve would be proud of him. He could finally show all those who underestimated him that he was not someone to be messed with.
Besides of that, being the leader of the bunker sounded nice. For the first time, people would depend on him. He would have the authority to give orders and take responsibility for everyone's future and safety. What else was there? All he knew was the bunker. He was born here. He had known nothing beyond his life underground—contributing to society, being useful, and searching for a way to restore humanity.
"But why me? I'm only 18," Rod had asked.
"Because I see potential in you," Cezar answered simply. "Don't worry. I will train you and make sure you know how to run things here—how to make people obey you."
And now, because of that decision, everything had changed. He had to move out of his unit because Steve would be assigned to another junior to guide him. Rod, on the other hand, was stuck with Cezar. It was the biggest regret of his life.
His new unit was larger, furnished with better furniture, yet it felt foreign. His mind kept drifting back to Steve, wondering how he was doing while Rod carried out his daily duties as Cezar's successor. Following orders. Learning.
What tormented him most was experiencing life without Steve. Yes, they were still in the same bunker. Yes, they could still see each other. But Rod was now too busy. He had no free time—no time to play, no time to hang out. He had to review reports, learn how the leaders operated, and constantly train.
He missed Steve's scent, his laughter, his jokes—those nights when he had so much to say that Rod couldn't sleep because he kept talking. He missed Steve's smile. It was no longer there, no longer lighting up the spaces around him. The longing hurt so much it ached—a pain he hadn't expected when he signed that will. Had he known this was the cost of power, Rod would never, ever have agreed to it.
And now, at last, Rod truly understood what Steve had meant when he said, "There's no point in having the world if you're not in it."
Because he felt it now.
And now, he realized what truly mattered. What was not to be compromised. Which part of himself was never meant to be given away, never meant to be traded.
What was the point of being the supreme leader if the one you love wasn't beside you?
While cleaning Cezar's office, Rod found a key in the drawer. It was attached to a blue ribbon, with the word "SKY!" written on it.
Rod's heart pounded. Blood rushed through his veins as realization struck—this must be the key to the yacht Steve had found at the secret beach.
Cezar wasn't around. Rod quietly slipped the key into his pocket and continued his work, forcing himself to act normal. He could hardly wait for nightfall, for that brief moment when he would be able to speak with Steve.
At the very least, the best thing he could do now was set Steve free—to the world he had always longed to explore.
***
He had tried countless times to find a moment to see Steve, but the relentless demands of daily life kept pulling him away. There was always something—training, patrol duties, meetings with Cezar, or the constant expectations placed on his shoulders. Each day blurred into the next, leaving him with little room to breathe, let alone seek out the one person he longed to see.
The only real opportunity he had was during the upcoming Mating Party—a rare event where the women, who had been confined to the female chamber, were finally allowed to mingle with the men. It was meant to be a celebration of survival, an occasion where bonds were formed, alliances were strengthened, and the future of their dwindling society was secured. But for Rod, none of that mattered. He wasn't interested in choosing a partner from the women like the others. His only reason for attending was the slim chance that Steve might be there.
Rod moves through the crowded room with quick steps, his eyes darting from one couple to the next. Everywhere he looks, men and women are locked in intimate embraces, lost in the feverish energy of the Mating Party. Laughter and whispered conversations fill the air, some cute women approaches him, but none of it matters to him. His heart pounds as he searches, scanning every corner, every shadow, hoping to catch even a glimpse of Steve because he doesn't have too much time.
But he isn't here.
Rod's stomach tightens. Maybe Steve is on duty.
Without hesitation, Rod turns on his heel and heads straight for the Visor's Room. He moves quickly, slipping through the hallways unnoticed. His fingers trail over the edge of the schedule board as he scans for Steve's name. There it is—confirmed. Tower duty.
He doesn't waste another second.
Rod makes his way to the bunker's exit, keeping his expression neutral as he approaches the guards. "There's been a report of a leak outside the bunker," he lies smoothly. "I need to check it out."
The guards exchange glances, but after a moment, one of them nods and steps aside. Rod doesn't hesitate. He slips past them into the darkness, the cold air rushing to greet him as he heads toward the tower—toward Steve.
Rod found Steve on Tower 12, just as the schedule had said. He was supposed to join another guard—his new partner was a fifteen-year-old boy, far too young to handle tower duty. Of course, the kid had likely been reassigned to something easier.
Rod climbed the tower with swift, soundless steps, his grip firm on the metal railing as the cold night air pressed against his skin. When he reached the top, he paused just outside the light's reach.
Steve wasn't alone.
Several men stood around him, laughing and exchanging jokes. Their voices were low and relaxed, and in the middle of it all was Steve, the edges of his black hair catching the moonlight, making it seem like it glowed. His laughter rang out like music. He looked happy—completely at ease.
A sharp pang of jealousy twisted inside Rod's chest. He didn't like seeing other men make Steve laugh like that. That joy should be his to bring out, his to witness. But what right did he have to feel this way? Cezar had stolen his time, his freedom. For an entire month, Rod had been buried in tasks and expectations, barely able to breathe, let alone find a moment to see Steve. He hadn't even been able to say hello.
Of course, Steve deserved to find happiness outside of him. And that realization left Rod feeling utterly bummed.
Steve's gaze lifted, and the moment he spotted Rod, he froze. For a second, his expression flickered with pure shock, as if he were seeing a ghost. Then, just as quickly, it shifted into something bright and unmistakable—excitement. His entire face lit up as he called out, "Babe!"
Rod stiffened slightly, his heart slamming into his ribs. Steve had said it so openly, without hesitation, without fear of who might hear.
He wasn't the only one who noticed. The other men exchanged looks, some amused, some surprised. Rod didn't care. He stepped forward, entering the tower, nodding at the group in greeting.
Crap. He felt the weight of several stares lingering on him. Some of them will tell Cezar.
There wasn't time to worry about that now. He had to be quick.
"Can I talk to you privately?" Rod asked, his voice lower than usual.
Steve, always sharp, immediately picked up on the urgency in his tone. He gave a casual shrug to the others before pushing Rod gently out of the tower.
"Sure, let's go."
They walked in the open for a few minutes, their steps slow and measured, keeping up the illusion of a casual patrol.
"How's your new partner?" Rod asked, masking his tension.
Steve scoffed. "Gave up. Picked laundry duty instead." He shrugged. "They haven't assigned me anyone new yet."
When their eyes met, Rod knew that even after all the time that had passed since they last spoke, he hadn't been replaced.
Rod could no longer hold back his feelings. He grabbed Steve, pulling him close, and kissed him on the lips—with every ounce of his passion, with every ache he had felt whenever Steve wasn't around, with every tear he had shed in regret.
Steve's lips moved against his, soft yet urgent, as if pouring all his longing into the kiss. Rod could feel it—the ache, the yearning, the love. They kissed for a long time, and still, it didn't feel like enough.
"Rod, I hate being separated from you," Steve whispered.
Rod nodded, guilt tightening his chest. "I'm sorry. I was an idiot. I was blinded by the offer of power. I never thought he was only trying to separate us."
Steve shook his head, brushing his fingers against Rod's cheek. "No, you're not an idiot. I would've done the same if I were you. I just missed you so much it hurts."
He kissed Rod again—desperate, full of emotion—savoring every second now that they finally had the chance to be together again.
Rod barely heard the words. His instincts screamed at him, his awareness sharpening. Some of the guards were watching him—not just watching, but assessing. Their eyes carried an edge, predatory and calculating. One of them muttered into his radio.
Shit.
A cold sense of dread curled in Rod's gut. He had spent enough time under Cezar's rule to understand how the man operated. This wasn't just suspicion.
This was a setup.
If he hesitated, he'd never get another chance.
Without warning, he grabbed Steve's hand.
"We need to go," he rushed.
Steve barely had time to react before Rod yanked him into a run, pulling him into the trees. The forest swallowed them in darkness, branches whipping past as they pushed forward, feet pounding against the ground.
"Rod—what's happening? Where are we going?" Steve's voice was breathless, confused, but he didn't resist.
"Just trust me," Rod kept running, his grip tightening around Steve's wrist. His heart hammered against his ribs, his thoughts a blur of urgency.
A month under Cezar had taught him one thing—when the trap is closing, you don't wait to see if you can slip through.
You run.