⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀OMNI⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Chapter 60

Disappointed

The truck rumbled along the uneven path, its engine growling silently beneath them like a restless beast. Metal creaked softly under the weight of their silence, broken only by the occasional bump in the road that jolted someone's shoulder or elbow against the cold steel walls.

IAM sat quietly in the middle row, his gun holstered tightly at his side. The weapon felt heavier now. Not because of weight—but meaning. Or lack of it.

Across from him sat the rest of the team—exhausted, bruised, and visibly reflecting. No one said much at first.

They were reviewing the mission.

Not celebrating it.

And that, IAM thought, said everything.

Jason was in the driver's seat, eyes forward, his hands firm on the wheel. The way he gripped it suggested he was still half in battle-mode, still processing. Liora sat in the passenger seat beside him, arms crossed as she addressed the others in her usual sharp, level voice.

"This was your first actual field operation together," she began, eyes sweeping the group. "Jason and I held back. On purpose. That was the plan. You needed the exposure. The experience. But let's be honest—without us stepping in when we did, some of you wouldn't have made it back."

Silence.

Not argumentative. Not offended. Just… agreement. It was the truth.

Kepa shifted in his seat, clutching his side. His shirt was bloodstained around the edges of the bandages, though the wound itself had already been dressed. His jaw clenched every time the truck hit a bump. IAM could see the frustration in his eyes.

He wasn't used to feeling this… powerless.

Liora turned her head slightly toward him. "Kepa. You rushed to activate your Path Method far too early. You didn't regulate the mana flow. As a result, you were exhausted before the fight was even halfway done."

Kepa didn't argue. He just nodded once, jaw tight, eyes staring out the window.

IAM glanced sideways at him.

He knew where that silence came from. Kepa wasn't just angry at the critique—he was angry at himself. And IAM could understand where the frustration had bubbled up from.

Liora continued without pause. "Mirin."

The smaller girl flinched slightly but looked up.

"You were too deep in your own head. I don't care how scared you are—you can't lose control of your breathing, or it will affect your draw, your aim, and your judgment. You had at least three shots that could've helped turn the fight earlier if you'd steadied yourself."

Mirin nodded, lips pressed tightly together.

"Taye," Liora said, not unkindly. "Your aim was solid. You didn't panic. But you stuck too close to your sister the entire time. I understand wanting to protect her. But by doing that, you limited your line of fire and missed multiple angles where you could've supported the front line."

Taye lowered her eyes but said, "Understood."

Liora finally turned to IAM.

His shoulders tensed slightly.

She didn't sound angry. But her tone carried weight.

"As for you, IAM," she said, "you did well watching over the team. Your positioning was smart. You focused fire where needed. But you allowed yourself to be exposed. You were so focused on protecting others that you forgot to protect yourself. A spawnling nearly took you out. You're not just our cover. You're a person on this field. Start treating yourself like one."

IAM hesitated, then nodded. "I'll remember… to do that."

"Good," Liora said simply. She turned back to the front seat, her expression unreadable as the truck continued to hum down the narrow road.

The Hold was still far on the horizon. A jagged silhouette against the setting sky.

Jason kept driving, saying nothing. His eyes never left the road.

In the silence that followed, IAM shifted in his seat, glancing at the others. Kepa was leaning back against the side wall now, his breathing shallow but steadier. Mirin was sitting beside IAM, her fingers still twitching slightly around the fabric of her pants. Taye sat at the far end, one arm resting on the frame of the truck bed, her eyes unfocused as she stared at the passing terrain.

IAM leaned slightly toward Mirin and whispered, "Thanks for earlier. For the arrow."

Mirin turned, blinking as if pulled from her thoughts. "No problem," she said, then added with a nervous smile, "Thankfully I didn't miss."

He gave a small nod, then turned back to face the open road through the front panel.

And sat in silence.

His hands, resting loosely on his lap, itched with tension. He looked down at them. Pale lines. Dirt under the fingernails. Small tremors left over from adrenaline.

He had survived.

He should've felt good about that.

But all he felt was disappointment.

He had come into this world with no real advantage—no gifts, no grand prophecy, no sudden awakening. In the back of his mind, he had half-hoped that something would happen the first time he killed a creature from the Deadline. A whisper. A skill. A system message. A flash of hidden potential. Anything.

But after that first kill… after the third… even after the one where he had nearly died—there was nothing.

No surge of power.

No internal revelation.

Just silence.

The gun was the same.

He was the same.

Still just IAM.

Still just a kid with a gun in a place he didn't belong.

He let his head tilt slightly back, eyes flicking up to the sky as it darkened into dusky hues. The fog on the edges of the Deadline blurred into the horizon behind them. The wind outside whistled against the truck.

And in the far distance… he could see the outline of The Hold drawing closer.

Its walls loomed larger now. Not because of size—but meaning.

It was a reminder.

That this was just the beginning.

That the next mission could be worse.

That survival wasn't the same thing as purpose.

He felt… hollow. And yet still burning with something he couldn't name.

He exhaled through his nose. Closed his eyes for a moment.

So this is what it means to live with nothing, he thought.

No cheat. No chosen fate.

Just me.

And in a way… that made the silence even louder.