Dawn came without warning. I didn’t see it rise. I just… felt it.

  The sky was still gray, overcast, but something in the air had shifted. A different kind of cold—sharp, slicing through my clothes and settling under my skin.

  Elira was asleep. Curled up like the night before, arms wrapped around her knees, her head resting on her chest. The fire had long gone out, leaving behind only cold embers and ash.

  I looked at her. There was nothing innocent about her. No fairy tale softness. Just bones, skin, silence. But she was alive. Still here. Still human.

  Silence isn’t always peace. Sometimes, it’s waiting.

  I stood up. Took a few steps outside, among the damp rubble of the garage. Every object felt like it wanted to scream something it had never been allowed to say. Twisted metal, broken toys, fogged-up gss.

  I knelt beside an old child’s car seat, covered in dust. Touched it, barely.

  Someone lived here once.

  Behind me, her voice came like a rough whisper.

  “Did you sleep?”

  I turned. Elira had woken up. Not fully, but enough to look at me. Her eyes still blurry, but present.

  “No.”

  She stretched slightly. Coughed softly. She looked more fragile in the morning light, but somehow more real.

  “You?”

  I nodded. Don’t know why.

  “Nightmares?”

  The question hung in the air. It wasn’t curiosity. It was… recognition. Like she already knew the answer.

  “Always.”

  She didn’t say anything. But she moved closer. Sat down next to a piece of twisted metal, using it as a backrest.

  “I don’t dream anymore.”

  Silence.

  Then the words came out on their own.

  “My base didn’t fall. It burned. From the inside.”

  She looked at me. Not surprised. Not afraid. Just… attentive.

  “You were there?”

  I nodded.

  “Did you lose anyone?”

  Everyone.

  But I didn’t say it.

  I just reached into my bag, broke the st protein bar in two, and handed her half. She took the food without saying thank you. But she looked at me for a long time. Then she said:

  “You don’t have to talk to me. But don’t pretend you can’t hear me.”

  That hit harder than I wanted to admit.

  We’d been walking for about an hour when I heard the first sound.

  A sharp noise. Metal against stone. I stopped. Raised my fist. She understood instantly.

  We crouched behind the remains of a colpsed wall.

  “What is it?” she whispered.

  “Listen.”

  The sound came again. A step. Then another. Coordinated. Not an animal. Not the wind. It was… someone.

  I crept to the corner. Tossed a broken mirror over the edge to get a look without exposing myself.

  Three figures. Men. Armed. Tactical movements. One behind the other. They were searching.

  They’re not patrolling. They’re tracking.

  I returned to Elira. “Move. Fast. But silent.”

  “We’re running?”

  “No. We vanish.”

  We moved through the ruins like shadows. She followed without a sound. Smart. Adaptable.

  We found a gap between two buildings and slipped inside. A broken staircase led us up into what was left of an apartment. A colpsed balcony gave us a view of the street.

  We saw them.

  They were closer now. One carried a radio. Another had an assault rifle.

  Elira crept next to me.

  “You know them?”

  I looked at her. Then looked again at one of the men.

  My blood froze.

  That face…It shouldn’t be here.Not after what happened at Base 7.

  I crouched slowly, hand gripping my rifle. My heart beat slow and steady, but my veins throbbed in my temples. Elira remained still, as if she sensed something had changed.

  “Who is he?” she asked softly.

  “A ghost.”

  I turned to her. “Stay here. If they come up, don’t move.”

  “And you?”

  “I do what I have to.”

  I shifted along the inner wall, searching for another vantage point. The one with the radio was speaking quietly, but I couldn’t make out the words. The other scanned the buildings with his weapon.

  The third… was him. Kazin. Sergeant from Base 7.

  He was dead. I saw him burn.

  And yet there he was. Alive. Whole.

  Something didn’t add up.

  Their movements weren’t random. They were tracing a line. Looking for someone. Maybe… me.

  I gestured to Elira. She joined me in a crouch. Eyes sharp, body tense.

  “They’re looking for us?”

  “I think so.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Maybe I do.Maybe what happened at Base 7 wasn’t an outside attack.Maybe… someone sold us out.

  And I… was the only one left alive.

  We stayed still for what felt like forever.

  The group began moving east. Out of view. I waited. Five minutes. Then ten. No sound.

  We moved.

  We descended again into the debris. Zig-zagged our way out, careful not to leave tracks. Every step was a held breath.

  When we reached a half-colpsed library, I stopped. The walls still had scraps of paper clinging to them. Elira sat down on the cracked floor, leaning against a stack of old dictionaries.

  “You really knew him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why was he there?”

  “I don’t know.”

  She didn’t respond right away. Then, in a softer voice, she said:

  “Have you ever thought that maybe you’re wrong? That what you believe isn’t the truth?”

  “Every day.”

  I sat down too. Rested my rifle against the wall.

  Truth is never whole.Just shards. Sharp pieces under the skin.

  Elira closed her eyes. Breathed slowly. She looked tired. But not fragile.

  I stayed awake. And for the first time, I didn’t think only about surviving. I thought about uncovering.

  Why was Kazin alive?Why now?And what was Base 7 really hiding?

  (to be continued...)