The ruins of civilization stretched for miles burnt cities, twisted roads, the skeletons of old governments.
For weeks, the fugitives wandered
Through dead towns, monster ridden forests, and weather warped by unstable Will zones, they searched for a place untouched. Somewhere to rest. Somewhere they could be… more than what they were made into.
They found it in a collapsed skyport nestled in the cliffs of an abandoned coastal island.
No satellites. No signals. No surveillance.
Just the crashing waves, the silence of nature, and the ghost of a world long forgotten.
They named it Haven.
Aeria used vines to reshape the bones of the old towers, turning cold metal into living structures. Her power no longer just healed wounds it regrew nature itself. The barren rocks bloomed again under her fingertips.
Juno turned wreckage into weapons, traps, and defenses. He forged the underground bunkers. Each tunnel was marked by a symbol of Divide not to scare, but to warn.
Phantom became their scout, mapping the nearby islands, slipping past drones, gathering information. He learned that the world believed them dead.
And Chrono? Chrono meditated deep in the caves, anchoring himself in every second, until he could fold time around their home making them invisible to most surveillance for minutes at a time.
Three years passed.
In that time, others came.
At first, just one or two.
Wounded soldiers who had been discarded.
Civilians who lost their homes to the Monster Herds.
Children born immune to Will, hunted as anomalies.
Then came more.
A rogue squadron of mech pilots, thought to be KIA, who defected.
A girl who could speak to machines.
A pair of twins with unstable fusion abilities.
Dozens.
Then hundreds.
All of them had nowhere to go.
And Haven took them in.
They built schools. Farms. Medical bays. Juno created energy fields powered by ambient Will flow. Aeria grew forests that filtered air and water. Phantom helped them stay undetected. Chrono trained the strongest ones to resist time shock.
They became a community.
More than fugitives.
They became a sanctuary.
But even peace left scars.
Aeria would wake at night with blood on her hands that wasn't hers.
Chrono sometimes aged weeks in hours when his powers went out of control.
Phantom refused to let anyone touch him.
Juno rarely smiled.
Even after all they gave, the thought always lingered: the world wouldn't let them rest forever.
Year Three, Month Eleven.
Aeria stood at the edge of a new garden, vines curled around an old metal plate from Site Zero.
Behind her, she heard Phantom's voice.
"They've found us."
She turned.
Juno and Chrono stood at the treeline. Silent. Focused.
Juno nodded. "We've got maybe one week before the satellites catch up."
Aeria's hands tightened.
"Then we get everyone ready."
Chrono looked up. "To run?"
Juno drew Divide from its sheath.
"To fight."