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Chapter 61

I know

The towers of the Hold loomed like silent judges as the truck drove through them. They group parked the truck in the designated area and got out of the car. Watchlights cast flickering beams down on the dirt-caked path, making the group look even more worn than they already were.

They didn't walk with pride. Not with relief. Just tired steps—heavy from the mission, heavier from everything unspoken between them.

After logging their mission at the front desk of the mission hall, they broke away from the rest of Team 267890, who quietly headed toward the mess hall or their own tents. No one said goodbye.

IAM and Kepa walked side by side in the opposite direction, toward their assigned tents nestled in one of the far corners of the Hold. The stretch of dirt between them and shelter felt endless, each step weighed down by a silence that pressed against their shoulders like fog.

IAM kept stealing glances at Kepa.

His friend looked… off. Not just physically—though his bandages were stark against his skin and his movements stiff from the still-fresh wounds. But emotionally. There was something distant in his eyes, something heavy in the way his head tilted down just slightly, like he couldn't bear to meet the world eye to eye.

IAM felt awkward. He wasn't good at this.

He had never known what to say to people in pain. What were you supposed to do? Pat them on the back? Crack a joke? Say something comforting, even if you didn't know if it was true?

The silence stretched too long.

So IAM cleared his throat. A weak "ahem" into the cooling air.

"Kep, I—"

"I know." Kepa's voice cut through his words, quiet but firm. He didn't look up. One hand was pressed lightly against the bandages on his side, as if they might split open again just from the weight of his own thoughts.

"What?" IAM blinked.

"I know what you're going to say," Kepa murmured. "That it'll all be okay."

IAM hesitated. His mouth opened—then shut again.

Because Kepa was right.

And wrong.

Because IAM didn't even know if it would be okay. Not for Kepa. Not for any of them.

Kepa continued walking, one slow step after another. His voice dropped a little lower, barely above the wind.

"I know I wasn't there… not when it really happened. So I shouldn't be the one to feel this way, right? Especially not here. Not in war. Not when people are dying every day." His fingers clenched slightly around the edge of his bandage. "And fuck knows… if I feel like this, I can't imagine how you must feel."

IAM flinched. The words landed like stones.

He didn't respond. Couldn't.

Because it still did hurt.

Not as sharp. Not as loud.

He would be lying if he said that the wound was not already becoming a scab.

And Kepa didn't even know the half of it.

IAM had never told him about the guilt, the morality questions, the things he still couldn't put into words. What it had meant to see them die, again and again. Replaying in his mind like a broken record.

It was funny, in a twisted way.

In this world, pain tolerance was seen as a virtue—people here could take pain of forming an avien that would cripple normal humans and keep walking.

But mental pain?

That was something else entirely. It seemed no matter where you went... Losing a close one was still as painful.

And IAM… IAM was the opposite.

His body couldn't take much. But his mind—

His mind had held out through things it shouldn't have. Barely.

But Kepa's voice pulled him out again.

"I know," he said, voice raw. "That it's not right to feel like this. But I do. I… I can't stop thinking about them. About that thing. That Devil. That creature—whatever the fuck it was. It took them."

His tone broke. Not loud. Not dramatic.

Just quiet.

A quiet falling apart.

"I don't even understand why," he said, almost to himself. "Why it had to be them."

His fists clenched.

"I hate them," he whispered. "Those things. I hate their very existence. I wish I could… I wish I could wipe them off this world. Every single one."

His legs kept moving, but the rest of him looked like it wanted to crumple.

"I know it's impossible. I know I'm weak. Just another dust speck in the storm. Just another nobody. But I still want it. I want revenge."

Hot tears slipped down his face.

They didn't fall like a flood.

They leaked—slow and shaking—from the corners of eyes that bled pain.

His jaw trembled. His mouth tightened, trying to suppress the sobs that wanted to break free.

IAM didn't try to hug him.

Didn't try to comfort him with clichés.

He just looked up at the sky.

That dull, gray sky that never changed, the same color as the fog that blanketed the Deadline.

A roof of ash above a broken world.

Everyone had their reasons.

Everyone had their pain.

They arrived at the tent.

It was quiet here, away from the heavier traffic of the Hold. Only the hum of the distant perimeter lights and the clatter of far-off conversation drifted through the air.

Inside the tent, two familiar faces were moving about: Hen and Ryan.

Ryan was holding a bag while Hen strapped on the last piece of gear around his thigh. They looked ready to leave.

Ryan looked up first and grinned. "Hope everything went well with the mission," he said casually, though his eyes flicked quickly to Kepa's side and the bloody wrappings around his torso.

"I guess not," he added with a raised brow.

Kepa said nothing.

IAM answered instead, voice flat. "It was alright."

"If you say so," Ryan said, tone half-playful, half-distant. He finished securing his pack, then turned to the flap. "We're off. See you guys later."

Hen gave a short nod, his disturbingly blue eyes unreadable, and followed Ryan out. The tent flap closed with a dull swish behind them.

Silence again.

IAM stood in the middle of the room for a while. Just breathing. Listening to the empty space they'd left behind.

Then he glanced sideways at Kepa.

The boy had collapsed onto his bed with a grunt, one hand pressed against his side, eyes closed.

IAM walked to his corner, dropped his things, changed into a fresh black hoodie and cargo trousers, then turned back.

"Kep," he said quietly. "Let's go to Raj's instead of rotting in here."

Kepa groaned, not opening his eyes. "But I'm exhausted…"

IAM smirked. "You need a new hoodie anyway. Your hoodie is torn. Come on, lil bro."

Kepa cracked one eye open and grunted. "Don't call me little bro."

IAM was already walking toward the door.

And behind him, after a long pause, he heard Kepa sigh… and start to sit up.

And that, for now, was enough.