I woke up to the warmth of the sun on my face and the soft weight still resting against me.
For a moment, I didn't move.
Didn't open my eyes.
Didn't let reality catch up to me.
Because for the first time since arriving in this world, I had actually slept peacefully.
No nightmares. No System notifications. No sudden fights for survival.
Just… warmth. The quiet crackle of the dying fire. The slow, steady rhythm of Elara's breathing.
But as my mind slowly pulled itself from sleep, the realization settled in.
Elara was still on my lap.
And at some point during the night, she had shifted even closer.
Her face was turned slightly into my stomach, her breathing slow and even. One of her hands had fallen loosely against my leg, her fingers just barely curled.
And I—
I had no idea what to do.
If I moved, I'd wake her up.
If I didn't move, I'd be stuck here, overanalyzing the fact that Elara, the sharp, focused warrior who had kept her distance when we first met, was now—
Well.
I swallowed hard, forcing my thoughts into order.
Okay. Stay calm.
Just because my brain was short-circuiting didn't mean I had to act like an idiot.
I took a slow breath, staring up at the brightening sky. The stars had faded into the early morning light, replaced by streaks of gold and pale blue stretching over the horizon.
The camp was still quiet.
The others were beginning to stir, but no one had come close enough to notice the situation I was currently trapped in.
That gave me a few minutes to figure out how to not make this awkward.
But before I could decide, Elara shifted.
She made a soft, barely-audible noise, her fingers twitching slightly against my leg. Then, slowly, her eyes fluttered open.
I went still.
For a second, she didn't seem to register where she was.
She blinked once, sleep still heavy in her expression, her gaze unfocused.
Then—
She lifted her head.
And our eyes met.
Time froze.
The weight of the moment settled between us, unspoken, undeniable.
Her expression didn't change.
She just… stared.
And I—
I stared back.
Then, as if nothing had happened, she exhaled, stretched her arms over her head, and said, "Morning."
Like she hadn't just woken up on my lap.
Like this was normal.
I blinked. "Uh. Morning."
She yawned, rubbing at her eyes, then finally sat up, pushing herself away from me like it was the most casual thing in the world.
I, meanwhile, was doing everything in my power to pretend I wasn't internally panicking.
Because I was.
Not that I would ever admit it.
Elara, of course, seemed completely unaffected.
She stood, stretched again, and ran a hand through her braid. "You sleep okay?"
I cleared my throat. "Yeah. You?"
She hummed, tilting her head slightly. "Pretty good, actually."
And then, before I could process what that meant, she was already turning toward the others, walking off like nothing was out of the ordinary.
I exhaled slowly.
Right. Okay. Sure. That happened.
I ran a hand down my face, forcing myself to stand. The warmth of her lingering presence was still there, but I shook it off, pushing the thought to the back of my mind.
I had other things to focus on.
Like the day ahead.
The rebuilding.
And the fact that, no matter how much I tried to ignore it, something deep inside me was starting to change.
I just didn't know what that meant yet.
And honestly?
I wasn't sure if I was ready to find out.
I watched Elara walk off, completely unbothered by what had just happened.
Like she hadn't spent the entire night asleep on my lap.
Like it was nothing.
Meanwhile, I was still processing it.
I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling sharply, trying to shake off the lingering warmth on my legs where she'd been. It was stupid. I shouldn't be thinking about this.
But my brain wouldn't let it go.
Not the way her face had been peaceful, free from the sharpness she usually carried. Not the way she had just accepted my presence, like it was natural.
I wasn't used to that.
I wasn't used to any of this.
But there was no time to dwell on it.
The settlement was waking up, and with it, the day's work was beginning.
The air was still cool as I moved through the camp, stepping over the remains of the fire. People were already gathering, starting their routines, rebuilding the city that had nearly been destroyed.
Revik was one of the first to notice me. He was standing near the remnants of a collapsed wall, arms crossed, watching as a group of younger men struggled to lift a heavy wooden beam into place.
He raised a brow as I approached. "Look who finally decided to wake up."
I scowled. "It's morning. I'm up. What more do you want?"
He smirked but didn't press it. Instead, he nodded toward the group struggling with the beam. "Since you're feeling so refreshed, why don't you make yourself useful?"
I sighed. "Yeah, yeah. On it."
I stepped in, taking hold of the beam, bracing my legs against the dirt. The others looked at me, uncertain, and for a moment, I wondered if they were still wary of me—of what I had done in the battle.
I couldn't blame them.
But that didn't matter right now.
What mattered was helping.
With a deep breath, I lifted.
The weight wasn't as bad as I expected. Maybe it was because of my increased stats, or maybe it was just adrenaline, but the beam rose easier than it should have. The others adjusted quickly, working together to guide it into place.
The moment it settled against the supporting structure, Revik grunted in approval. "Not bad."
I wiped sweat from my brow. "You sound surprised."
He shrugged. "Didn't know if you'd actually help or just stand around looking important."
I rolled my eyes. "Trust me, I don't feel important."
And that was the truth.
Because no matter what I had done, I still felt helpless.
I could tear through reality. I had erased something that shouldn't have existed. But now, my powers wouldn't even answer me. They only surfaced in life-or-death situations.
And the more I thought about that, the more it terrified me.
Because if I couldn't control them—
Then I wasn't just a danger to my enemies.
I was a danger to everyone.
I watched Elara walk off, completely unbothered by what had just happened.
Like she hadn't spent the entire night asleep on my lap.
Like it was nothing.
Meanwhile, I was still processing it.
I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling sharply, trying to shake off the lingering warmth on my legs where she'd been. It was stupid. I shouldn't be thinking about this.
But my brain wouldn't let it go.
Not the way her face had been peaceful, free from the sharpness she usually carried. Not the way she had just accepted my presence, like it was natural.
I wasn't used to that.
I wasn't used to any of this.
But there was no time to dwell on it.
The settlement was waking up, and with it, the day's work was beginning.
The air was still cool as I moved through the camp, stepping over the remains of the fire. People were already gathering, starting their routines, rebuilding the city that had nearly been destroyed.
Revik was one of the first to notice me. He was standing near the remnants of a collapsed wall, arms crossed, watching as a group of younger men struggled to lift a heavy wooden beam into place.
He raised a brow as I approached. "Look who finally decided to wake up."
I scowled. "It's morning. I'm up. What more do you want?"
He smirked but didn't press it. Instead, he nodded toward the group struggling with the beam. "Since you're feeling so refreshed, why don't you make yourself useful?"
I sighed. "Yeah, yeah. On it."
I stepped in, taking hold of the beam, bracing my legs against the dirt. The others looked at me, uncertain, and for a moment, I wondered if they were still wary of me—**of what I had done in the battle.**
I couldn't blame them.
But that didn't matter right now.
What mattered was helping.
With a deep breath, I lifted.
The weight wasn't as bad as I expected. Maybe it was because of my increased stats, or maybe it was just adrenaline, but the beam rose easier than it should have. The others adjusted quickly, working together to guide it into place.
The moment it settled against the supporting structure, Revik grunted in approval. "Not bad."
I wiped sweat from my brow. "You sound surprised."
He shrugged. "Didn't know if you'd actually help or just stand around looking important."
I rolled my eyes. "Trust me, I don't feel important."
And that was the truth.
Because no matter what I had done, I still felt helpless.
I could tear through reality. I had erased something that shouldn't have existed. But now, my powers wouldn't even answer me. They only surfaced in life-or-death situations.
And the more I thought about that, the more it terrified me.
Because if I couldn't control them—
Then I wasn't just a danger to my enemies.
I was a danger to everyone.
By the time the sun began to dip toward the horizon, I found myself sitting at the edge of the settlement, watching the sand shift in the wind.
I wasn't alone for long.
Elara appeared beside me, lowering herself onto a rock with a sigh. She stretched out her legs, letting her boots dig into the dirt.
For a while, neither of us spoke.
Then, finally, she broke the silence. "You're thinking too much."
I let out a short laugh. "You don't even know what I'm thinking about."
She shot me a look. "I don't have to. It's written all over your face."
I sighed, leaning forward, resting my elbows on my knees. "I just… I don't get it. My powers. My abilities. They're there, but I can't use them unless I'm about to die. It's like they're locked."
She was quiet for a moment, then tilted her head. "Maybe they are."
I frowned. "What do you mean?"
She shrugged. "Maybe whatever power you have isn't something you're supposed to force. Maybe it's something that only comes out when it's needed."
I exhaled sharply. "That's not exactly comforting."
She smirked. "Didn't say it was."
I gave her a dry look, but I couldn't bring myself to argue.
Because the truth was—she was probably right.
But that didn't make it any easier to accept.
She leaned back slightly, watching the sky as the first stars began to appear. "You know, you're not the only one who feels powerless sometimes."
I glanced at her. "Yeah?"
She nodded. "You think living up here is easy? The underground cities have everything. Resources. Protection. Structure. We have this. A few hundred people scraping by, fighting to survive."
Her voice was quieter now. "We're alone up here, Josh. And every day, we wonder if it's going to be our last."
The weight of her words settled deep in my chest.
Because she wasn't wrong.
The Kesather had built a world beneath the earth, hidden away from the dangers of the surface. But not everyone had been given a place there.
And the people here- they had been left to fend for themselves.
I swallowed, my throat dry. "That's why you stay. Even though the surface is dangerous."
She nodded. "Because it's home."
I exhaled, watching the sky.
Home.
It was a word that felt so distant now.
Because wherever mine had been—
It wasn't here.
The fire crackled beside us, casting long shadows across the sand.
I should have gotten up. Should have walked back toward the others. Should have gone to sleep.
But instead, I sat there.
Next to her.
Beneath the stars.
And for just a moment—
I let myself exist.