Chapter 62: Winter (V)

Marcus was adjusting his carbine. He wore the dark green outfit that had protected him for years. That attire had always given him a sense of comfort and security, but never hope. This time, unlike all the previous ones, he was getting ready below ground level, on the ninth floor.

The ceiling and floor of the hall had been remodeled by Clerk's skilled hands. "The Builder," they called him, though he never seemed to pay attention to the titles given to him. Marcus, on the other hand, found it amusing. There was something ironic about how the nickname had spread like wildfire when Clerk himself didn't care in the slightest. Perhaps that was what made the name so fitting, a man who built worlds with stone and wood but never bothered to build a pedestal for himself.

As soon as Marcus finished adjusting his weapon, others entered. It was Clerk, bringing his pregnant wife to one of the beds he had arranged and laying her down. Marcus watched him help her, then embrace his own daughter, touching his wife's belly.

The feeling returned to him like a tide, slow, inevitable, bringing with it every detail, every shadow of what had been lost in the waves of memory.

"Marcus," one of the helpers from the third floor appeared at the door, "Clara is calling you upstairs."

"Ah, right. I'm on my way."

He picked up his two pistols and holstered them again, turning his back to the floor and climbing up. The stairs were one of the few parts of the building that hadn't been rebuilt because they would take too long.

Upstairs, Clara waited alongside Jix and Simone. The three sat in chairs, observing a stretched-out map. When he approached, Clara lifted her gaze and pointed to the table.

"We got it."

Marcus hated riddles.

"Got what, ma'am?"

"Meliah said he's bringing about six furnaces to place on the ground floor." Her voice carried a casual tone, but the real emotion was evident in the blush that spread across her cheeks, warm and alive, defying the biting cold around them. "They'll bring more beams; we'll also be able to work on the floors."

"That's great news."

Clara went on about the beams, the electrical wiring, and a hydraulic system. Was Meliah really providing all these resources without asking for anything in return? Degol could stay on the sixth floor, being treated by Simone, but that would end at some point. Eventually, the youngest Jones would wake up, or sleep forever.

And that was what tormented Marcus as well.

"Very generous," he said mockingly. "And what did he ask for in return?"

"To be honest," Meliah appeared, climbing the stairs with two of his men, "I didn't ask for anything in return. My brother deserves a place to rest, so I decided that... the best thing to do was to provide enough so we can be on equal footing."

Marcus didn't like what he saw. Meliah was smiling too much, too cheerful. For someone with a sick brother, he was donating far too many resources just to compensate for his stay. Marcus knew better than anyone that the value of something wasn't always in what was given, but in what was kept hidden. And Meliah, despite all his smiles, was full of secrets.

"Go ahead," Marcus confronted him. "Why are you doing this? We're not giving you anything."

"Calm down." Clara grabbed Marcus's arm, pulling him gently. "He's helping, Marcus. That's enough for now. People are feeling more hopeful; we'll have a bit more comfort. Luma also said she might come spend a few days with us."

Marcus pulled his arm away in a firm gesture, shaking off the touch that tied him to that uncomfortable harmony. Coldly, he stared at Meliah before raising his finger and pointing at him.

"I don't trust a thief. Don't get too comfortable, your brother will wake up sooner or later…" And then he saw the smile on Meliah's face. He didn't even respect him in his own home. "Or not. Who knows what'll happen to him, right? Pay close attention to how you speak to the ones sheltering you and your people."

Meliah's smile vanished instantly. Those words hurt him, draining his expression little by little.

"Marcus," Clara reacted immediately, calling him loudly. "Are you out of your mind? He's helping us."

He turned to her, stepping forward with heavy strides. Clara was forced to step back, fumbling against the table behind her, trapped between it and Marcus.

"Have you lost your mind?" Her words came out low but fearful. "What are you doing?"

"I'm showing you that people are who they are. He never came here to help. He never came to check if we were okay." He touched his forehead, where an old wound was still visible. "His brother hit me, they mocked us, said they'd kill us. And you want me to just accept it? I remember very well what it was like to lose people. That memory is what kept me alive. Now you bring the people who pointed guns at you into my... our home. Is this how you want to continue?"

The voices rose all at once. Meliah and his men started shouting, the residents disliked seeing Clara being cornered. Simone stood up, gesturing for them to stop. Even the barking of dogs could be heard against that behavior.

Marcus felt his breathing grow heavy. His chest felt tight, pressed against his own skin. His eyes locked onto Clara's, and she exuded fear. Her recoiled expression, her whole body shrinking back. Then, all the sounds died out at once.

He lowered his gaze, bringing his hand to his waist. He was gripping the handle of his gun.

"Marcus," Jix said, raising his hands in an instinctive gesture, as if trying to push away not just the words, but the tension in the air. His face was marked with distress, and his voice faltered momentarily before continuing, softer, almost a whisper. "We don't need this, alright?"

Clara placed her hand on his shoulder and gently pushed him back. The pressure in his chest seemed to rise to his head. He didn't know what to do. He had done something wrong. He shouldn't have grabbed the gun. None of them were the enemy. There was no need to worry...

Men like Meliah had haunted him forever. He didn't want to accept it. It was wrong.

"Jix, with me," a voice called from behind him. "Marcus, too. We're heading out on an expedition."

The shooter finally lifted his head. Dante passed by him, reaching for the old man sitting there and pulling him onto his back, securing him against his suspenders. When he saw Dante glancing at him sideways, shame forced him to lower his head.

"Stop whining. You want to protect your home from people who have never done right by you." And he looked at the others around. "That's the desire you carry today. Did shouting and throwing a tantrum help at all?"

Simone raised her voice, clearly irritated.

"Meliah is helping us more than we even asked for."

"Are you sure about that?" Dante locked eyes with them. "Marcus is protecting what he believes in. If a man I know to be cruel enters my home and my family welcomes him without question, then am I the one in the wrong?"

Clara quickly took control of the conversation, pulling attention as she stepped forward.

"I know it's a bit complicated to understand. But this is the first time we've had so much. These ducts, the wiring, everything will improve the building. We can finally have a place for people. Away from the cold, Dante. Away from fear."

"I understand."

Simone raised her voice.

"No, you don't. You came from a place where you had everything, didn't you?" Her voice carried to those climbing the stairs to see what was happening. "How do you know if you've never needed anything? Go on, tell your story now. Say Marcus is right, but don't claim you know what we feel."

Angry, Clara turned to her.

"Are you serious? We don't need this. Dante has been helping us all this time, alone."

Simone shook her head, stepping past the table, her expression darkening.

"I know he doesn't want to stay. From the beginning, I knew he wasn't being honest. I see him talking to himself at night, messing with the battery. He's planning to forge a portal back home. He never belonged here. Kappz was never his goal."

Marcus and Clara were surprised to see Dante smiling.

"Looks like you figured out the obvious," Dante sighed. "I have a family that needs me somewhere else. I'm Dalia's Recruit, I come from the Capital. Do you want me to leave, Ms. Simone? Then give back everything I've given you first."

He let out a mocking laugh.

"You can't, can you?" He sneered at Meliah. "Now that you've stirred up all this chaos, think about your brother and your request. Can't even keep quiet for a second?"

Jix touched his shoulder. Marcus watched Dante listen to something from the old man before turning away. He started walking across the wooden bridge connecting the buildings, then called out:

"Are you staying there, or are you coming?"