The night slowly bled into morning as Julian drove the modified jeep through the ruins of a dead city. The headlights cut through the lingering mist, revealing abandoned buildings and silent streets. Inside the vehicle, the soft hum of the engine was the only sound, his companions were fast asleep in the back, their breaths calm and even.
Clarissa, however, was still awake. She sat beside him, her eyes focused on the road ahead, but occasionally stealing glances at Julian.
Julian noticed and asked softly, "You’re not sleeping?"
Clarissa smiled a little. "I’m not sleepy yet."
"You should rest," Julian said gently. "Don’t push yourself."
"I will... in a bit."
There was a brief silence, then Clarissa’s cheeks turned slightly pink as she hesitated. "Um... Julian?"
"Hm?"
"Can I... sleep on your lap?"
Julian chuckled lightly. "Go ahead."
"Okay then... excuse me," she murmured shyly, scooting closer and gently resting her head on his thigh.
With her head nestled comfortably, she looked up at his focused expression as he drove. "You know," she whispered, "I always dreamed of doing something like this... if I ever had a boyfriend. And now it’s really happening."
Julian kept his eyes on the road but smiled. "I’m glad you’re happy."
Clarissa’s voice softened, filled with warmth. "I really am. Thank you, Julian... for giving me a second chance at life."
Julian nodded. "No need to thank me. I’m the one who’s lucky... to have all of you by my side."
Clarissa closed her eyes, her smile lingering. "Let’s hope the next place we find... is even livelier than the last."
Julian looked ahead, the faint rays of dawn beginning to glow on the horizon. "Yeah... let’s make it that way."
--------×---------
In the dimly lit command room, tension thickened like smoke. Around the large tactical table, high-ranking officers stood, the weight of prolonged war evident in their expressions.
A gruff voice echoed through the room.
"We’re running low on ammunition and medical supplies. How long do you think we can hold out like this?" barked Colonel Frederick Rourke, a broad-shouldered man in his late fifties. His salt-and-pepper beard and deep voice added gravity to every word. Known for his strict discipline and old-school approach, he was a soldier forged in war and unwilling to bend.
Across from him stood Major Lucia Arven, a composed woman around 36, with blue-tinted hair tied in a low bun and piercing eyes hidden behind tactical glasses. Despite her calm tone, her words struck sharply. "That’s because you refuse to deploy the skill-users properly. If you would just trust the elite squads—"
Colonel Rourke scoffed. "You mean the lunatics? You want me to unleash those walking disasters inside these walls?"
Before Lucia could respond, a younger voice interrupted with smug confidence.
"Oi, oi, easy there, old man," said Captain Rayden Vale, leaning casually against the table. With his sharp jawline, tousled dark hair, and confident grin, Rayden looked more like a pop star than a soldier, yet his combat record spoke for itself. "Are you blind to the accomplishments of my unit?"
As the argument grew louder, a firm voice sliced through the tension.
"Enough."
Everyone turned to face the man at the head of the room.
General Albrecht Voss, the supreme commander, stood with arms crossed. His imposing stature and shaved head exuded authority, his dark blue uniform bearing the marks of countless campaigns. "This meeting is going nowhere with you all shouting like schoolchildren."
He turned toward the logistics team. "Status of production units?"
One of the officers quickly responded, "The workers are exhausted, sir. The demand is too high for current capacity."
General Voss narrowed his eyes. "Then make them work harder. We don’t have the luxury of rest."
"Yes, sir."
Voss then turned to the communications officer. "Any news from the expedition team?"
The officer shook his head grimly. "No contact, General. We fear the worst."
Colonel Rourke muttered, "They’re likely dead. We shouldn’t waste more resources waiting on ghosts."
The General ignored the comment and spoke coldly. "Begin recruiting from the civilian pool. We need bodies."
Major Lucia stepped forward. "With all due respect, General, they’re starving. We don’t even have enough food to keep the barracks fed."
General Voss’s expression didn’t change. "Then they’ll serve another purpose. Bait is just as useful as bullets."
A heavy silence fell.
"Meeting adjourned," Voss said sharply. "Return to your posts."
Without another word, the officers filed out of the room, leaving behind only the echo of boots and a sense that the fortress stood on the brink of collapse.
After the tense command meeting, Major Lucia Arven made her way down the long steel corridor leading to her quarters. The echo of her boots bounced off the cold walls of the military fortress. As she turned a corner, she crossed paths with a man dressed in a muted tactical uniform with the Specialist Unit insignia on his shoulder.
The man stood tall. His dark black hair was tied back neatly, and a short beard framed his kind face. There was a quiet strength in his eyes, tired but sharp. His name was Elian Claint, a former medic turned combat support specialist, known not only for his calm demeanor but also for his rare healing-based skill.
He gave her a warm nod. "Evening, Major."
Lucia returned the gesture, her tone softening. "Elian. Are you busy right now?"
He shook his head lightly. "Not particularly, ma’am. Just finished field checks on the new recruits."
Lucia glanced down the hall toward her office door. "I could use the usual treatment."
At once, Elian gave a short respectful bow. "Of course, ma’am."
He followed her inside, closing the door behind them. Lucia moved toward her chair and sat down with a sigh, already loosening the tight collar of her uniform. Elian approached quietly.
"Permission to begin?" he asked.
She gave a small nod.
Elian placed his hands gently on her temples and began to work his skill, a subtle energy infused into a massage, relieving tension with practiced ease.
Lucia let out a rare sigh of contentment. "Still as good as ever..."
"I’m glad I can be of some comfort," Elian replied with a gentle tone.
After a moment of silence, Lucia asked, "How’s your son?"
Elian smiled faintly. "He’s doing better. The medicine you helped procure, it made a huge difference. I owe you, Major."
Lucia waved a hand slightly. "That was fair payment for what you’ve done here."
She paused, then added, "And your daughter? Any news from her?"
The faint smile on Elian’s face dimmed. "No word. Communications are still down... But I have faith. She’s strong. She’ll be okay."
Lucia glanced over her shoulder, arching an eyebrow. "You’re far too optimistic for someone in your position."
Elian chuckled softly. "Hope is the last thing I’ll give up, ma’am."
Lucia grew quiet for a moment, her voice lowering. "Things are going to get worse. Command’s orders are to recruit more civilians, train them fast and throw them to the frontlines. Disposable soldiers."
Elian’s hands paused briefly.
She looked up at him. "Elian... You should take your son and leave. I can get you out. Discreetly. There’s still a way."
But Elian shook his head gently, his expression resolute. "Thank you, truly. But I can’t abandon you, not after everything you’ve done. You saved my son. You gave me purpose again. I won’t walk away from that."
Lucia frowned. "You’re a fool. You still have a life to protect."
"And I will," Elian said calmly. "But I’ll protect it while standing with you. This is my choice."
Lucia let out a slow breath, leaning back in her chair.
"What a madman" she muttered.
Major Lucia sat upright again, brushing back a few loose strands of hair as Elian quietly finished the massage.
"If you ever change your mind," she said softly, "you can come to me. Any time."
Elian gave her a warm but firm smile. "I won’t, Major. But... thank you."
Lucia studied his face a moment longer. "Are you heading back to the main defense line?"
He nodded. "Yes. I received new orders earlier today. They need me there."
Lucia’s voice was steady, but there was a weight behind it. "Be careful out there."
"I will," he replied. "I always am."
With a respectful nod, Elian turned and walked toward the door.
"Goodnight, Major," he said, and quietly stepped out, the door clicking shut behind him.
Lucia remained seated in the silence that followed. The stillness of the room felt heavier now. She stared at the closed door, the echo of his footsteps fading down the hall.
Her thoughts wandered.
Why do I worry about that man so much?
A medic with two children. A man who had already endured too much. And yet, somewhere along the line... her walls had cracked.
Since when did my heart get caught up in someone like him? she wondered.
She let out a long, quiet sigh, covering her eyes with a hand.
"I’m too old for this," she whispered to herself.