Chapter 6: Unfinished Questions

The night was long.

Lena sat on the damp ground inside the hut, cleaning the blood from her knife. The metallic scent lingered in the air, mixing with the salt of the ocean. Outside, the wind howled through the trees, carrying distant sounds—footsteps, rustling leaves, maybe even breathing.

The surviving Wraith Hound was still out there. Watching. Waiting.

She didn't let her guard down. She never did.

Across from her, Riven leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed, watching her with that unreadable expression.

He was too still. Too composed. Like the events of the past hour hadn't affected him at all.

Lena knew men like him. Dangerous ones.

Not because they were reckless, but because they were calculating.

It wasn't the kind of danger that came with raised voices and empty threats. It was the kind that waited, studied, and struck only when necessary.

The worst kind.

She set her knife down, meeting his gaze. "You knew exactly how to fight those things."

Riven didn't blink. "And you didn't?"

Lena narrowed her eyes. He was testing her. Again.

"I adapted," she said coolly. "You didn't need to."

A flicker of something—amusement? Annoyance?—crossed his face, but it was gone too fast to read.

"They aren't difficult to kill," he said simply. "If you know how."

Lena exhaled through her nose. Vague. Again.

She didn't trust him. Not yet. But trust wasn't necessary for survival. Information was.

She leaned back slightly. "Where did you come from?"

He didn't answer immediately. Then—

"Does it matter?"

Lena didn't blink. "It does if I'm supposed to rely on you."

He tilted his head slightly, like she had said something interesting.

A long pause.

Then, finally, he spoke. "I've been here longer than you."

It wasn't an answer, not really. But it was something.

Lena held his gaze. "How long?"

Silence.

Then—"Long enough."

She resisted the urge to sigh. Another half-answer. Another calculated evasion.

Fine. If he wasn't going to give her anything, she'd figure it out herself.

Lena had spent years reading people—on Earth, before everything collapsed. She had learned to spot liars, manipulators, and people who held back too much.

And right now?

Riven wasn't lying. But he wasn't telling the full truth, either.

She stored the information away. She'd find out eventually.

For now, there were bigger problems.

Lena exhaled, rolling her shoulders. "We need supplies."

Riven raised a brow. "You have some."

"Not enough." She gestured toward the pack in the corner—half a bottle of water, a single protein bar, a few bandages. "I don't know how long we'll be stuck here, but I'm not planning on starving anytime soon."

He watched her for a moment. Then, finally, he gave a slow nod. "Then we should move at first light."

Lena barely stopped herself from raising an eyebrow. That was almost cooperation.

She didn't trust it.

But she wasn't going to argue.

---

Memories of a Dead World

Sleep didn't come easily.

Lena leaned against the hut's crumbling wall, knife still in hand. She had spent too many nights like this before—half-asleep, waiting for something to attack.

Her mind drifted.

Earth.

The world before all of this.

She didn't think about it often. Didn't let herself.

But the exhaustion was creeping in, making her thoughts heavier. Uncontrolled.

She remembered the way it all ended.

The fires. The sirens. The people turning on each other before the world itself collapsed.

And before that?

Before the end?

What was she before survival became everything?

She saw flashes of it—memories slipping through the cracks of her control.

A city skyline. The smell of gunpowder. A voice calling her name.

Then—static.

Lena inhaled sharply, forcing herself out of it. Not now. Not here.

The past didn't matter.

Only survival did.

She exhaled, tightening her grip on her knife. Tomorrow, she'd figure out the rules of this world.

With or without Riven's help.

---

End of Chapter 6