Chapter 35: The Locked Door
Bright stepped out of his room, still shaking off the lingering grogginess from waking up too suddenly. His head was pounding, partly from the aftershock of the explosion—or whatever it was—and partly from the sheer confusion of the situation.
Emily, however, was already wide awake, furiously knocking—no, beating—on Elijah's door like she planned to break it down.
"Elijah, open up!" she yelled, fists slamming against the metal.
There was a muffled groan from inside, followed by the sound of something—probably a pillow—being thrown across the room.
"I'm coming! F*cking stop hitting my door!"
A few seconds later, with a sharp click, the door finally swung open, revealing a very disheveled and very irritated Elijah. His hair was a mess, his shirt was inside out, and his eyes were barely open.
"What the heck is happening outside?" he asked no one in particular.
Nobody really knew.
Emily didn't answer. She just stepped forward and hugged him tightly.
Elijah stiffened for a second before sighing and awkwardly patting her back.
Bright, standing off to the side, finally spoke up. "She says it's a nuke." He pointed at Emily, who still hadn't let go of Elijah.
Elijah gave a dry chuckle. "Sure, I didn't think of that. Haaa, Bright, that should be the first thing that comes to mind."
Bright blinked.
Right. That made sense.
But when he first woke up, his mind hadn't gone straight to 'oh, a nuke just exploded.'
No, his first thought had been 'The bunker is sinking into the ground.'
…Yeah, he really did think differently from other people.
Bright scratched the back of his head, chuckling awkwardly. "Hahaha… I guess?"
Elijah rolled his eyes. "Unbelievable."
---
After deciding they weren't getting any more answers standing around, the three of them huddled in front of the door leading upstairs.
It was locked.
That wasn't too surprising.
What was surprising was that no matter what they did, it wouldn't budge.
They tried kicking it.
They tried shouting.
Elijah even tried making funny poses in front of it, hoping the sheer absurdity would trigger some hidden mechanism.
Nothing worked.
After exhausting their options, they slumped against the wall in defeat, waiting for someone to come open it.
They waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Finally, right when breakfast time rolled around, the door did open.
Franklin stepped in, holding their usual trays of food like nothing had happened.
Like there hadn't just been an explosion.
Like the ground hadn't shaken hard enough to rattle their bones.
Like they hadn't been sitting in front of the door like abandoned puppies for the past hour.
The man strolled past them without even acknowledging their presence, the door swinging shut behind him as he entered Bright's room.
The three of them stared at each other.
Then at the closed door.
Then back at each other.
Emily's face darkened with fury. Without a word, she marched after Franklin, leaving Bright and Elijah behind.
Bright exhaled through his nose.
Elijah slumped back against the wall. "Well, that was… something."
Bright sighed.
They sat there in silence for a while.
Then Elijah turned to him with a smirk. "Aren't you gonna check on your girlfriend?"
Bright groaned. "Shut up."
Elijah chuckled. "Just saying."
After a pause, Bright spoke again, this time more seriously. "What do you think?"
"About what?" Elijah asked, even though he already had a guess.
Bright glanced at the door. "It's not just that they don't want us going outside. They don't even want us on the first layer."
Elijah's smirk faded. His expression turned unreadable. "I know."
Bright studied his face. "And?"
Elijah let out a slow breath.
"…I don't want to think about it."
Bright didn't press further.
They sat in silence again, until Emily's voice echoed from inside Bright's room.
"Get in here and eat!"
Bright and Elijah exchanged glances.
Bright sighed.
Elijah chuckled. "Scary."
Bright nodded. "Terrifying."
And just like that, they moved on—at least, for now.
---
Things settled after that.
Or, at the very least, they pretended things were normal.
The next few days blended together, following the same pattern.
Wake up. Eat. Train. Eat again. Waste time. Eat again. Sleep.
Practice became a daily ritual.
At first, Bright struggled. His body wasn't built for hand-to-hand combat, and Emily's enthusiasm for knocking him around didn't help. But over time, he improved.
He stopped getting knocked down so easily.
He started countering, dodging, adapting.
Franklin occasionally dropped in, offering advice. Though Bright wasn't sure if "advice" was the right word when it mostly involved being thrown to the floor.
Elijah refused to train at first. But by the third day, boredom got to him.
Soon enough, the three of them had formed a routine.
Wake up. Train. Eat. Train again. Play cards. Mess around. Sleep.
Bright even practiced his fire abilities in his free time, trying to make them second nature.
The routine was boring.
Especially for Emily.
Bright, however, liked it.
Food.
A safe home.
And a girlfriend.
What more could he want?
Honestly, he could live like this.
Forever.
…Unfortunately, reality had other plans.
---