The dust from the collapse hadn't even finished settling before the tension in the room shifted from "terror of death" to "intense observation."
Daniel Von was out cold. His [Lucky Charm] attribute seemed to have a secondary effect: the more chaos he averted, the deeper he slept. To him, the sound of a building falling apart was just white noise.
"He's actually snoring," Kafka whispered, leaning her rifle against the one remaining wall. She wiped a smudge of concrete dust from her cheek, her gaze fixed on Daniel's messy dark hair. "We just watched a hundred men disappear into a hole because he yawned, and he's... snoring."
"It's not just luck," Sophia said, her fingers flying across her tablet screen. Her professional "Ice Queen" facade was beginning to crack, replaced by a feverish intensity. "Look at the localized mana readings. The Mana Death—the purple rot—it's physically repelled by his presence. It's like he's a walking dead zone for the apocalypse."
"Which means," Mia added, her voice trembling with a different kind of energy, "as long as we are near him, we won't turn. We won't die."
The three women looked at the sofa. The realization was heavy. In a world where every breath could be your last, Daniel Von was the only oxygen tank left.
"He said he was cold," Mia murmured, her eyes drifting down to Daniel's shivering frame. The collapse had let in a draft of chilly, purple-tinged mountain air. "As a medic, I can't let him get hypothermia. His health is our survival."
"Right," Sophia said, clearing her throat and adjusting her glasses. "And the sofa is too small. If he rolls over, he might fall into the abyss. We need to move him to the master bedroom. It has the reinforced king-sized bed."
Kafka stepped forward, her muscular arms crossing over her chest. "I'll carry him. But if we're going to stay safe, we can't just leave him in a room by himself. What if the luck wears off if there's a wall between us?"
It was a flimsy excuse, and they all knew it. But in the end of the world, no one was checking for logic.
Twenty minutes later, Daniel found himself being tucked into a bed that felt like a cloud made of silk and feathers. He let out a contented sigh, burying his face into a pillow that smelled faintly of Mia's expensive floral perfume.
He was vaguely aware of movement around him. The mattress dipped. Then it dipped again. Then a third time.
"What... what are you doing?" Daniel mumbled, his eyes cracking open just a sliver.
The room was dim, lit only by the eerie purple glow of the world outside the window.
To his left, Mia had shed her lab coat. She was wearing a thin lace camisole that left very little to the imagination, her ample curves pressing against his arm as she pulled the duvet up. "Just monitoring your vitals, Daniel," she whispered, her breath warm against his ear. "Your heart rate is a bit low. Body heat is the best recovery."
To his right, Sophia had discarded her blazer and heels. She sat propped up against the headboard, her long legs stretched out under the covers. She was pretending to look at her tablet, but her eyes were fixed on Daniel. "Logic dictates a 360-degree perimeter," she said primly, though her cheeks were flushed. "I am the most observant. I'll stay here."
At the foot of the bed, Kafka was peeling off her tactical vest, revealing a sports bra that highlighted her shredded, athletic physique. She didn't bother with excuses. She crawled into the space at the end of the bed, her legs tangling with Daniel's.
"I'm the muscle," Kafka grunted. "Anyone tries to wake you up, they go through me."
Daniel blinked, looking at the three stunning women who were effectively turning him into a human weighted blanket. Any other man would have been in heaven. Daniel, however, just felt crowded.
"I just... wanted... to sleep," he groaned, trying to find a spot for his elbow that wasn't touching a soft, spicy curve.
"We are sleeping, Daniel," Mia cooed, sliding closer until her chest was pressed firmly against his shoulder. "Go to sleep. We'll take care of everything else."
As Daniel's exhaustion finally dragged him back under, he felt a soft pair of lips brush against his forehead, and another hand ghosting over his chest.
His [Lucky Charm] attribute gave one final, satisfied pulse. Outside, a massive flying monster roared, preparing to dive-bomb the penthouse—only to suffer a sudden, mid-air heart attack and crash harmlessly into the river three miles away.
Inside the room, the "spicy" battle for the best spot next to the savior was just beginning.