Chapter 102: Reprieve
Dawn — Leaving the Safehouse, Arrival: East Mid - Rise District, City Outskirts
The safehouse faded behind them in silence. No goodbyes. No second glance. Just their shadows spilling long across the cracked concrete as the sky shifted from bruised gray to gold.
The chill of early morning wrapped around their jackets and seeped into their skin like smoke. The wind carried no birdsong. Just the hollow groan of distant ventilation shafts and the distant hum of systems that should've stopped functioning years ago. Aria pulled her scarf higher, her pack biting into her shoulders with each step. The bruise beneath her collarbone ached, a dull pulse that didn't feel entirely like her own.
Selene led, silent as always, moving with that precise, predatory gait — always ahead, always listening, always watching. She didn't turn around. She didn't have to. Aria followed, always a half - step behind, always where Selene expected her to be.
They didn't speak, not for the first hour. The road twisted through back alleys and forgotten service lanes. Crumbling tenements on either side slumped into one another like exhausted bodies. Razor wire sagged from roof edges. A city stitched together by rust and regret.
At one point, a shadow darted behind a shattered window. Aria saw it. Selene didn't flinch. They kept moving.
"Someone's watching," Aria murmured finally.
"They always are," Selene replied without turning.
That was the only exchange for another twenty minutes.
The East Mid - Rise District began to take shape through the mist — skeletal outlines of five - story towers staggered between courtyards full of overgrown ivy and empty planter boxes. Faded murals on brick walls told stories of lives no longer here: a child holding a balloon, a mother washing clothes, two lovers sharing a kiss beneath the sun. Aria stared as they passed. The art was chipping, but the love in it hadn't faded. Someone had once believed in this place.
They reached the fifth floor by foot. The building groaned with age and neglect. Dust clouded the air like old breath. The hallway lights flickered at regular intervals — enough to see, never enough to feel safe.
Selene's hand was steady as she turned the lock on the apartment. The door creaked open with a mechanical sigh, revealing a space barely touched by time. A couch. A table. A kitchen with dead power. Blank walls. A view of the city's scarred skyline through broken blinds.
"It's clean," Selene said, already crossing to check the balcony door. "Top floor. No working elevator. That buys us time."
Aria moved slower, absorbing everything. Her boots dragged slightly, legs sore from the walk, the adrenaline draining from her body like someone pulling threads from her skin. She let her bag fall with a dull thud near the couch, then stood there, unmoving.
Selene moved like muscle memory — locking, scanning, checking corners. She worked in silence until Aria's voice, soft and flat, broke through.
"It's too quiet."
Selene didn't look back. "You say that like it's a bad thing."
Aria stepped toward the window, pulling the curtain open just enough to look out. The city stretched below — fractured roads, forgotten cars, tall fences that glinted faintly with electric deterrents. In the distance, something buzzed. A drone. Surveillance patrol maybe. It curved lazily through the sky, uninterested for now.
"Quiet feels like a trick," Aria whispered.
"Then don't fall for it."
She didn't say anything after that. Just stood by the window, the morning light cold against her cheek. She could still feel the weight of the safehouse behind her, the closeness of Selene's body during the night, the way they hadn't needed words. And yet here, surrounded by silence, it all felt distant again. Frayed.
Selene pulled a water canister from her pack and placed it on the counter. "We have three days, max, before this place gets pinged. Maybe less if they've upgraded the grid scanners."
Aria turned, folding her arms. "You always talk like it's a countdown."
"That's because it is."
"We can't live like this forever."
Selene met her eyes. "We won't."
"But you don't believe in staying anywhere, either."
"I believe in staying alive."
Aria exhaled sharply. "That's not the same as living."
Selene opened her mouth like she was going to argue, then closed it again. She turned away instead, reaching into her bag and retrieving a small med kit. She set it down beside the couch and stepped back, nodding toward it.
"Let me see your shoulder."
Aria didn't move.
"I'm fine."
"You're bruised and you're limping."
"I said I'm fine."
"You're not."
"I don't need —"
Selene moved to her in two strides and took Aria's jacket gently but firmly, peeling it back before Aria could argue further. Her fingers were warm against her ribs. Aria hissed as the pressure flared white - hot where the bruise had deepened overnight.
"Yeah," Selene murmured. "Definitely fine."
Aria glared. "You're a pain in the ass."
"You've told me worse."
She worked in silence, cleaning the wound with antiseptic, fingers moving with clinical care but a tenderness that betrayed her usual armor. Aria watched her through half-lidded eyes, jaw tight.
When Selene finished, she didn't step back. She stayed there, kneeling between Aria's legs, her face tilted up, her breath just shy of touching Aria's throat.
Their eyes met.
"I hate how easy you make it," Selene said quietly.
Aria blinked. "Make what?"
"Caring."
Aria swallowed. "You're not the only one who's scared."
Selene nodded, the movement slow. "That's what makes it real."
There was a moment — one heartbeat, suspended — where the air went still. Selene's hand slid up to Aria's jaw, fingers brushing her cheekbone. Aria leaned forward without thinking. Their foreheads touched, breath mingling. It was too much. It was never enough.
But neither moved further.
They stayed like that until Aria pulled back, barely. "I cooked rice earlier. There's enough for two."
Selene smiled, faint but real. "You always know how to ruin a moment."
"No. I know how to ground one."
They ate in silence on the floor, legs tangled under the low table. Aria's shoulder ached, but her heart did something stranger — it slowed. Not out of peace, exactly. But presence.
After, she lay back, stretching out on the rug, one arm folded behind her head. Selene sat cross-legged nearby, disassembling her rifle with mechanical focus. The soft click of metal was the only sound between them for a long while.
Then Aria spoke again.
"I had a dream."
Selene didn't look up. "What kind?"
"A deep one. The kind that stays in your teeth."
Selene paused. "You want to tell me?"
Aria nodded slowly. "There was a door. No walls, just the door standing in the middle of the woods. I opened it. And on the other side… I saw roots. Endless. And something breathing beneath them."
Selene's hands stilled.
"It was waiting for me. Like it recognized me."
"It probably did."
"You believe me?"
"I always do."
Aria turned to face her. "I think it's still inside me."
Selene's jaw tightened. "I know it is."
"You're not surprised."
"I saw it the moment you touched that pillar."
Aria stared. "Then why didn't you say anything?"
"Because I didn't want to make it real before it had to be."
Aria sat up, voice rising. "You think not talking about it makes it go away?"
"No," Selene said, finally meeting her eyes. "I think sometimes we get one breath before the world tilts again. I wanted you to have that."
Aria's voice dropped. "But I didn't want to be protected. I wanted to be told the truth."
Selene's face softened. "You don't have to be the strong one all the time, Aria."
"No. But I want to be."
They stared at each other across the space between them, the air dense again with everything unspoken. Aria's fingers curled into the rug. Selene looked like she wanted to cross to her, close the distance. But she stayed still.
Aria rose slowly and walked to the window. She pushed the blinds aside and watched the rooftops. A crow landed on a power line, then took off again, startled by something she couldn't see.
"I feel like something's building," she whispered. "Under the surface."
Selene nodded. "It is."
Aria turned. "You know more than you're saying."
Selene didn't deny it.
Aria crossed the room again, this time faster, until they stood face to face. "Tell me."
"When we leave this district," Selene said, her voice careful, "we don't come back. It's already spreading again. Whatever your bloom woke up—it's not going dormant. It's migrating."
Aria felt her stomach flip. "You think it's following me?"
"I think it's inside you. And wherever you go, the world shifts to make room."
Aria blinked hard. "And if I stay?"
"Then it roots."
She sat down heavily on the couch. Her whole body felt cold, and not from the draft. "Then there's no safe place."
Selene walked over and knelt again, her hand resting gently on Aria's knee.
"No," she said. "But there's us. And that has to be enough."
Aria looked down at her hand. "For now?"
"For as long as you'll let it."
Aria didn't answer. She just leaned forward, rested her forehead against Selene's again, and closed her eyes.
They sat there long after night fell.
And when they moved again, it was together.