We didn't head straight for Academy 3.
That would've been stupid.
Instead, we traced a path Kazim had marked long ago safe routes stitched together from old data, broken roads, and places no one bothered watching anymore. Paths that avoided open ground. Paths that assumed something was always hunting.
We scavenged along the way.
Batteries that still held a charge. A functional filter mask. Rope. Old field rations sealed tight enough to trust. Nothing impressive. Just things that kept you alive one more day.
By nightfall, we'd covered nearly fifty kilometers on foot.
It didn't feel real.
Every step came with hiding, doubling back, freezing when something moved too close. We crossed shallow rivers to erase tracks. We waited out long stretches in silence, listening to the world breathe around us.
When we finally stopped, it was because the land itself told us to.
The area was strangely, too clean!. Bent metal stakes half-buried in the ground, faint lines etched into stone. Barriers. Old ones. Someone had tried to protect this place once.
Or keep something out.
Aira lit the bonfire with a soft breath, flame blooming in her palm before settling into the wood. Ren shaped the ground nearby, coaxing grass upward and then drying it carefully until it formed a warm, makeshift bed.
Watching them made everything feel normal for about ten seconds.
Then the weight came back.
We ate in silence. Kazim leaned against a rock, leg stretched out carefully, face pale but alert. When the others finally settled down, I volunteered to take the first watch.
Aira stayed with me.
The fire crackled softly between us.
"You should sleep," she said.
"I will," I replied. "Later."
She didn't push.
The thought I'd been avoiding crept back in.
Black.
Professor Kisen's voice echoed in my head.
All blacks died during transport.
So why was I here?
Why did I wake up every morning when people like Kazim almost didn't?
The fire flickered, and before I could stop myself, I asked, "How do you do it?"
Aira tilted her head. "Do what?"
"The fire," I said. "How do you control it?"
She thought for a moment. "I don't… control it like people think. I imagine it. Clearly. I picture what I want, and then I let it happen."
"That's it?" I asked.
She shrugged. "That's how it works for most of us. The stronger the image, the easier it comes. Like when you killed that creature."
My stomach tightened. "That was different."
She smiled faintly. "Kazim called it the jointy sword."
I blinked. "The what?"
"Jointy sword," she repeated. "The creature that hit Kazim. He said it hit him first, so he got the naming rights."
I almost laughed. Almost.
"He might've lost a screw," she added dryly.
After she lay down to rest, I stayed by the fire and tried.
I closed my eyes.
Imagined the black liquid. The way it moved. The way it felt like it knew what to do.
Nothing happened.
I tried again.
Harder. Still nothing.
My hands stayed normal. Empty. Weak.
The doubt rushed in immediately.
What happens when they find out?
When they realize I can't control anything?
When they see I was just… lucky?
I stared at my palms, heat from the fire licking my skin.
Will I ever help them again?
Will I ever use that power… or was it just once in a lifetime thing?
The night didn't answer.
The fire crackled.
Somewhere far away, something howled.
I pulled my jacket tighter and stayed awake.
Because if I was going to be useless
At least I wouldn't sleep through it.