Max's Dilemmas

The clatter of wooden cups and the low hum of conversation filled the hall, blending with the faint crackle of firelight. Max sat in silence, his hands resting lightly on the table, his gaze flickering between Harry and Tim. They spoke with ease, their voices rising and falling in rhythm, trading questions and answers like a familiar dance. 

Max listened, absorbing their words like a sponge, though much of it was beyond him. He tried to focus, his sharp mind clinging to every fragment of knowledge they offered, hoping to piece together some semblance of understanding.

But the truth was, this amnesia—this void where his memories should be—was a constant thorn in his side.

Frustrating didn't begin to cover it. 

Every word spoken by the locals, every flicker of their foreign language, felt like a ghost brushing past him. He didn't know the words, couldn't grasp their meaning, but they stirred something deep inside. Like he'd heard them before, in another life, a distant dream he couldn't quite reach.

The food was the same. The scent of the bread, the herbal tang of the tea—it all felt familiar. But as he sat staring at the wooden cup in his hands, he couldn't connect the dots. The familiarity was maddening, like chasing a shadow that always slipped through his fingers.

He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to focus on the present. At least there was one constant in this chaos: Harry.

The boy's infectious energy and endless chatter were grounding in their own strange way. He was someone Max could trust, someone who could teach him, guide him. 

So Max stayed silent, watching, listening.

"Alright, so what else did you hear?" Harry asked, leaning forward, his hands gesturing animatedly. 

Tim shrugged, his expression thoughtful. "Not much. Just what some of the others were talking about. The people here seem... organized. Like, they've been preparing for this kind of thing. They've got guards, fighters, supplies, even healers."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "Prepping for what exactly? The apocalypse? Monster invasions? Or... our arrival?"

Tim gave him a flat look. "I don't know, man. I'm just repeating what I heard."

Max tilted his head slightly, processing their conversation. Guards. Supplies. Healers. It painted a picture of preparation, of stability amidst the chaos outside. These people—locals, as Tim called them—were no strangers to survival.

Wait, the system-like entity told something about The End, an introduction to it.

Does that mean, they should learn about the end from this world?

Harry groaned, throwing his hands up. "Great. So, basically, we're all clueless. Classic apocalypse starter pack."

Tim smirked faintly, but his expression softened as his eyes drifted toward the entrance. Harry followed his gaze, and for a moment, he went quiet.

A small smile tugged at Harry's lips. Max's eyes flicked to him, curious.

Tim turned to look. At the entrance stood the little girl Harry had saved, clutching her brother's hand tightly as they entered the hall. Her face was still pale, but there was color returning to her cheeks. She clung to her brother like a lifeline, her eyes darting around nervously.

"You saved her, Harry," Tim said softly, his voice carrying a weight of gratitude and a bit of regret. Then his tone shifted, more serious. "But... don't be reckless like that again. If it weren't for Max—"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," Harry cut him off, waving a hand as if brushing away the concern. He forced a laugh, his usual grin returning. "But hey, everything's fine now, right?"

Tim frowned, but before he could respond, a firm hand landed on Harry's shoulder.

"GAH—!" Harry flinched violently, letting out an embarrassingly high-pitched yelp. He spun around, his face turning red, only to find a familiar figure standing behind him.

The tall, no-nonsense form of Jess loomed over him, her lips quirked in a faint, amused smile. "Your friend is speaking the truth, you know," she said, her tone warm but firm.

"O-Oh, it's you, Big Sis Tess," Harry mumbled, his face burning as he avoided her gaze. "Uh, did you eat yet? You should totally join us."

Jess arched an eyebrow but nodded, pulling out a chair and sitting down beside him. Max noted how her movements were controlled, precise, and efficient, like she was always ready to spring into action.

Harry, ever the opportunist, opened his mouth to start prying for answers, but Jess cut him off with a knowing smile. "You'll learn everything soon. Be patient."

Harry deflated slightly, grumbling under his breath, but he didn't press further. 

As if on cue, the hall began to fill with people. Survivors from Earth trickled in first, their faces etched with relieved exhaustion, curiosity, and wariness.

Max observed them closely, noting their varied expressions—fear, confusion, determination. Among them, the locals moved with quiet confidence, their language flowing like water as they exchanged words with one another.

The chatter died down as the massive doors at the far end of the hall creaked open. Four armored guards stepped inside, their boots thudding against the stone floor. They moved to either side of the door, standing at attention, their expressions stoic.

The room hushed, a collective tension rippling through the crowd.

Harry leaned closer to Tim, whispering, "Is it just me, or does this feel like the setup for a king's entrance?"

Tim hushed him with a quick gesture, but Harry could see the anticipation in his eyes as well.

Max's gaze shifted to the open doors, his body unconsciously straightening as he waited. Something about this moment felt pivotal, like the calm before a storm.

And then, a shadow appeared in the doorway.

'...'

Max muttered as people started to enter the hall, wearing fancy and cool noble clothes, and a few people from Earth followed beside them.

But only one person - the black-haired girl wearing a formal uniform got his attention.

'Her...'

'...Why does she feel familiar...?'

'....Who is she?'