That night, we were all left in silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts. We were too tired, too emotionally drained, to return to our bases. Instead, we scattered across the campus, turning classrooms into temporary bedrooms.

  I retrieved the Grave Digger and drove us to the one place I knew as the quietest during my days as a student: the water tower. It sat atop a small hill, and for as long as I could remember, it had been rumored to be haunted by a Pontianak. Back then, that thought would have sent a shiver down my spine, but after fighting them at Sembawang beach—or rather, the system’s version of them—I realized how silly it was to ever be afraid of that kind of folklore.

  We set up camp at the base of the water tower, pulling out a large twelve-man tent that Andy had given to Siva. We set up our cot and supplies, not saying much to each other.

  Exhaustion hung over us like a fog, but there was something else too—something heavier, more haunting. Siva moved mechanically, setting up our coffee station and supply table with a quiet precision that felt detached from the situation. Jess had returned when I messaged that we were moving out. She sat on her bed, staring into space, repeatedly wiping her hands on her shirt as if trying to rid herself of blood that had long since been washed away by her [Purify] spell.

  Shawn stepped outside for a smoke, and I followed. He was uncharacteristically quiet, now dressed in a long-sleeve tee instead of his usual denim shirt.

  We smoked in silence, the quiet stretching out around us. I looked out at the wooded area, the stillness of the night almost suffocating. After what felt like forever, Shawn finally broke the silence.

  “Well… That was a shit show,” he muttered.

  I didn’t know how to respond, so I just nodded, my thoughts heavy but unspoken.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Shawn continued, lighting another cigarette from the butt of the last one.

  I stayed quiet, letting him speak.

  “Was there another way? Sure. Maybe. But this is what we came up with. And now, we’ve got to own it. We’ve got to own the victory, and we’ve got to own the deaths,” he said evenly, his gaze fixed on the woods.

  “And if you think this was all on you... fuck you,” he added, his voice growing colder. He took another deep drag and exhaled slowly. “Everyone knew the plan. Every single one of us. Everyone at camp. Everyone knew the cost, and we agreed. So if you think this was all your fault, with all due respect... go fuck yourself, Chris.”

  I let Shawn’s words settle in, and for a moment, I just thought. I knew he was trying to make me feel better. In such a short time, we had grown so close, and it felt like he understood me better than anyone.

  I didn’t know you that well. You never let anyone in.

  Amira’s words echoed in my mind, and this time, I didn’t push them away. I let them linger, replaying in my head. She was right. I hadn’t let her in—not during our quick courtship, not during the happy moments, not during the bad times, and certainly not during our years of marriage.

  What did that say about me? That it took the end of the world to let someone in. Now, I had orchestrated a mass death event. If the Hague still existed, I’d be on trial for war crimes.

  But Shawn was right, too. I hadn’t forced anyone to follow me. It was my plan, but they were all free to walk away. They made their own choices.

  I took a deep breath, letting the weight of it all out, and with that breath, I let go of some of the anger, the guilt, and the sadness. It didn’t all disappear, but I felt a little lighter, like a boulder that had been crushing my chest since we arrived in this hellhole had finally begun to slide off.

  “Actually…” I began, turning to look at Shawn. He met my gaze, his eyes intense but softened by something deeper. “I was wondering what we’re gonna do for dinner…”

  Shawn stared at me for a moment, and in that brief second, something passed between us—something that maybe meant more to me than it did to him. He was my brother. Jess was my sister. Siva was my son. They were my family. We were here for each other, no matter how messed up we were.

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  And then, without warning, we cracked up laughing.

  Shawn pulled me into a tight hug, and I reciprocated. We laughed like maniacs, tears mingling with our laughter. It was relief—pure, raw relief—but it felt good. We stayed that way until Jess stepped out of the tent.

  We pulled apart, wiping the tears from our faces as Jess walked toward us. She moved cautiously, unsure of herself. We made room for her between us, giving her the space she needed.

  She looked at each of us, and after a long moment, she muttered, “Fuck it... Anyone have a cigarette?”

  That was all it took. Shawn and I lost it again, doubled over in laughter. Shawn slapped his knee, and I had to grab Jess’s shoulder for support. It was crazy, infectious laughter. Jess couldn’t help herself. She joined us, tears streaming down her face, as we all embraced, caught in a moment of pure absurdity.

  We slowly caught our breath as the laughter subsided, and I hugged Shawn and Jess one more time before excusing myself. Our family was still missing one piece.

  I walked into the tent to find Siva sitting on his cot, his eyes fixed on the coffee pot that had boiled over. He wasn’t really seeing it. His gaze was distant, lost in thoughts that I could only guess at.

  I quietly walked over and sat beside him, letting the silence of the tent envelop us for a moment. Normally, I would have hesitated, but this time, I put my arm around his shoulders and pulled him in close. That’s when it happened. Siva broke. His body shook with sobs, his tears coming in desperate, hitching gasps as he wrapped his arm around my chest.

  I held him there, letting him cry. As much as I needed to release, he needed it more. Despite his bravery and his readiness to throw himself into battle, I had to remind myself that he was still a kid. A very brave kid. My kid.

  Eventually, his sobs quieted, and I slowly loosened my grip, just sitting with him in the stillness. He didn’t speak right away, and I waited, letting him find the words when he was ready.

  Finally, in a quiet voice, he said, “You know… when I left to look for Andy, I didn’t know if I’d suddenly lose contact with you guys. I was afraid to check my chat and see all your names listed as ‘Deceased.’ I already lost my family, Chris. I can’t go through this again.”

  I nodded, understanding more than he could know. I just waited for him to continue.

  “The north was hell. But this place…” His voice faltered, then hardened with a hint of anger. “This place is worse. We didn’t need to fight so much. But the things we had to do... Why? Why are we even playing this game?”

  I took a breath, letting his words sink in as I gathered my thoughts. “You know why,” I began, my voice steady. “This was forced on us. We need to change it, get it back to the way it was before. My mission hasn’t changed. It’s just…” I trailed off, trying to find the right words. “The journey’s harder than I thought. But I’m glad I have you with me on this. And to stop playing would be to admit defeat. And I’m not going to do that.”

  He turned to face me then, the tears from earlier now dried into streaks on his face. “No. I’m not going to do that either. But the deaths... they didn’t bother me, Chris. I wish they did, but they didn’t. And that’s what’s hurting me the most. Why am I so numb? Why...” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck as his eyes dropped to the ground.

  I wasn’t good with kids. I never had been. Even before all of this, I kept kids at arm’s length—two arms, if I could help it. But this time, I did my best to say what I felt was the truth. “You’ve built a wall, Siva. A wall inside yourself. Maybe right now, that’s okay. Maybe right now, it’s what you need—to protect yourself and to protect us. But one day, when this is all over, that wall’s gonna come down. And it will hurt. It’ll hurt like hell, but that’s okay, too. That means you’re still in there. That means you’re still you.”

  I let the words linger in the quiet for a moment before I added, “This might not be the best advice coming from me, but for now... keep that wall up. And if all else fails, we’re your walls. Me, Shawn, Jess. We’re here for you, just like you’ve always been here for us. And for now, that’ll have to be enough.”

  He seemed to consider my words for a moment before making a decision. I could see the change come over him, like a shift deep inside. His face hardened, his posture straightened, and with a deep sigh, he stood up and held out his hand to me.

  I glanced at his hand, momentarily unsure, before asking, “What the fuck is this?”

  “A handshake. Like an adult,” he said, a slow grin spreading across his face.

  “Fuck you, Siva,” I replied, standing up and pulling him into a hug instead. I bit back the tears that threatened to fall, but couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled up. It was the same relief I’d felt earlier, and I felt Siva shake in my arms, a mix of laughter and tears. We held on for a moment longer before I gently pulled back and suggested, “Let’s step outside, get some fresh air.”

  We walked out to find Jess bent over, coughing violently, a cigarette still dangling from her fingers. Shawn was there, lightly patting her on the back, his smile devilish as ever.

  Siva looked from Jess to Shawn, then to me, before his gaze landed back on Jess. She straightened up, still coughing, her eyes red and streaked with tears.

  A scowl formed on his face, and he solemnly said, “Do I need to be the adult here?”

  That broke the tension, and another round of laughter erupted. Siva walked over to continue his playful chiding of Jess, who was now coughing again after a tentative puff from her cigarette.

  I just stood to the side, smiling.

  The weight of the deaths, the cost of everything we’d been through, still hung heavy on me, but for the first time in days, I knew—deep down—that it was going to be okay.