Chapter 4 Breathing Shadows

Chapter 4: Breathing Shadows

The settlement was quieter than Kael had anticipated, the only sounds the crackling of fire and the hushed murmurs of a few nearby souls sitting by the edges of the makeshift camp. The air was thick with the scent of wood smoke, sweat, and something metallic. He'd grown used to the smell of blood and death, but it didn't make it any easier to breathe in.

Rhea led him toward a small, makeshift tent at the far end of the settlement. The fabric was patched and worn, the edges fraying as if the inhabitants hadn't the luxury to worry about such things. Inside, a small cot sat beneath a flickering lantern, and a crate beside it contained food supplies that hadn't been touched in days.

Kael's eyes swept over the meager shelter. This wasn't a home—it was a pit stop on a journey that had no end. He couldn't help but wonder if he would ever find a place to call home again. Would anyone? The Pulse had taken everything—cities, lives, and the very idea of normalcy.

"I'll keep watch tonight," Rhea said as she dropped her pack to the floor with a dull thud. "You get some rest."

"Rest?" Kael couldn't help the laugh that escaped his lips. "I don't think that's a luxury we can afford."

Rhea didn't answer immediately. Instead, she stripped off her armor, revealing a set of worn but sturdy clothes beneath. She looked tired—her usual steely demeanor cracked, if only for a second.

"I know," she finally said. "But even soldiers need a break, or we won't last."

Kael didn't argue. He could feel the weight of his own exhaustion pressing down on him, but it was too dangerous to sleep soundly here. The settlement's defenses were minimal, and Kael could already hear the faint sounds of Degenerates in the distance, their guttural cries riding the wind.

Rhea settled herself against the wall, one hand resting on the hilt of a knife that hung from her belt. Her eyes flicked between the entrance and Kael, as if gauging whether he would try something foolish. Kael didn't make a move. He didn't trust anyone in this place, and especially not someone as cold as Rhea. But for now, he had no choice but to stay close.

"You're not what I expected," Rhea spoke again, breaking the silence. Her voice was softer now, almost thoughtful. "Most people who survive in the wastelands don't make it this far. They either give up, get killed by the Degenerates, or get taken by the Ascendants."

Kael didn't look at her, but he could feel her gaze. "I'm not most people."

"No," she said, a small smirk tugging at her lips. "I suppose you're not."

The two of them sat in silence for a while, the flickering lantern casting shadows across the walls. Kael's thoughts churned as he tried to figure out his next move. The settlement might give them temporary shelter, but it wasn't a solution. Not by a long shot.

Eventually, Rhea stood up, stretching her arms above her head before slipping her armor back on.

"Get some rest," she ordered, her tone clipped. "I'll take the first watch. Don't make me regret saving your life earlier."

Kael said nothing. He didn't need to. He knew well enough that survival wasn't a gift—it was a trade, and Rhea's help came with a price. But he was too tired to argue.

He lay down on the cot, his eyes scanning the dim corners of the tent. The small space felt suffocating, but he couldn't bring himself to care. His body demanded rest, even if his mind refused to let him sleep.

The minutes dragged by. The only sounds were Rhea's soft movements and the distant cries of the Degenerates, like a reminder that the world had moved on, leaving humanity behind. Kael clenched his fists, his teeth grinding together. He couldn't afford to be weak. Not now.

The night stretched on, and just as Kael was beginning to drift into an uneasy slumber, a scream pierced the air.

It wasn't the scream of a Degenerate—it was human.

Rhea's head snapped toward the entrance of the tent, her hand reaching for her rifle.

"Stay here," she hissed, her eyes narrowing. Without waiting for a response, she darted out of the tent, her form disappearing into the shadows.

Kael's heart raced in his chest as he quickly grabbed his rifle, rushing out after her. The settlement had already come alive with panic. People were scrambling for shelter, but the horde wasn't what they feared.

"Move! Move!" a man shouted, his voice panicked as he shoved a woman into a nearby shack. "They're here! The Ascendants—they're here!"

Kael's eyes flicked to the figure standing at the edge of the settlement. Tall, clad in black, a figure unmistakably from the New Dawn. Rhea's words echoed in his mind—no one was safe from the Ascendants.

Rhea was already halfway toward the intruder, her plasma rifle at the ready. Kael followed, trying to keep low. He didn't know who this Ascendant was, but he didn't need to.

One thing was certain: whoever it was, they weren't here to make peace.

The Ascendant turned at the sound of their approach, eyes narrowing as they assessed the two newcomers. The figure's hand reached for a weapon, but Kael was faster. He fired first, the shot ringing out in the still air.

The Ascendant staggered, but didn't fall.

Rhea fired next, the plasma shot scorching the air. The Ascendant dropped to one knee, wounded but still alive.

"Why are you here?" Rhea demanded, her voice harsh. "State your purpose."

The Ascendant's gaze flickered toward Kael, then back to Rhea, before answering in a low, gravelly voice.

"You should know by now, Rhea Astralis. You're not the only one who's immune to the Pulse."

Kael's blood ran cold.

"What does that mean?" he asked, stepping closer, his rifle aimed but his mind racing.

The Ascendant smirked, his eyes burning with a cold fire.

"It means we're just getting started."