The days that followed fell into an unexpected rhythm.
Cloud was still thinking.
Sasha cooked.
Cloud thought harder.
Sasha got bored and played games on her portable console.
Cloud stared at walls like they might whisper the answer.
Sasha rolled her eyes, then brought him snacks.
And every time she handed him food or water without a word, Cloud's shoulders loosened… just a little.
There was air conditioning — a silent electric fan powered by her batteries.
There were snacks — chips, chocolates, even ice from the magic ring.
There were extra clothes — neatly folded from who-knows-where.
Hell, Sasha even had shampoo, conditioner, and scalp hair spray and even some body wash.
Cloud had endured the apocalypse like a true soldier — always alert, always rationing, always sacrificing comfort for survival. Cleanliness was a luxury he no longer allowed himself.
