The group was dismissed, given time to eat, explore, and get a sense of the camp. But the conversation, and Draven's presence, lingered in their minds.
It wasn't home. Not yet.
But maybe, just maybe…
It could be.
Later That Day...
The group returned to their cottage, minds spinning. Ria sat outside on the porch, watching kids chase each other with sticks pretending they were swords.
"He'd like it here," Sarah said softly, sitting beside her.
"Yeah," Ria whispered. "He would."
Inside, Han examined a map he'd picked up from the meeting room, East Blue's surrounding territory, scouting routes, potential threats.
"It looks like the scouts have been mapping out the new landscape quite well when they go out."
'He has good insight. I think we can bet on him.'
Mel busied herself in the kitchen, preparing a stew from a small box of rations they'd been given. "We need to decide what we're going to do," she said. "We can't just… sit here."
"No," Han agreed. "We recover, obviously I reckon we'll all decide to stay. And then, we go back to look for him routinely. "
Sarah looked up. "And if he's gone?"
Silence.
"We find out for sure," Ria said. "That's all we can do."
Alex, who had been lying quietly in the corner, looked up. "Adrien's not gone. I felt him. When the light swallowed him. He's… somewhere."
They all stared at her septically, was she just coping, or was there some truth to her words, they didn't know. But the world had become a strange place, they couldn't just write it off.
Han crouched beside the boy. "You felt him?"
Alex nodded. "Like a thread. It pulled. But it didn't snap. I think he's still out there somewhere."
The cottage fell into a heavy hush. But it was different this time, not despair. Something closer to… hope.
Ria turned toward the window, the setting sun casting golden light through the glass. "Then we hold on too," she whispered.
...
That night, Han made his way through the quiet paths of East Blue alone.
He passed the buildings now bathed in moonlight, soft laughter spilling from a numerous lodge, sentries chatting lowly at the gate.
It was funny, how bright and cheerful children still remained even after all that had happened. He had heard that all of the young ones had become an ascender, so maybe your age affected how well you interacted and integrated with the aether.
But it was just a theory at this point.
When he reached the command building, Draven was still inside, bent over a war map, arms folded, expression taut in thought.
"Could've waited till morning," Draven said without looking up.
Han smirked. "Would've lost sleep over it."
Draven looked up then, a flicker of a grin tugging at his scarred face. "That so?"
Han stepped forward. "We're staying. All five of us."
Draven's smile widened. "Now that's what I wanted to hear."
He moved around the table and clapped Han on the shoulder, not hard, but firm. Familiar. "I had a feeling. You've got that look in your eye. Not just survival. Purpose."
"We're all tired of the constant," Han said. "We just want to be useful. Stable. For a while. But we will take out time to look for our friend now and again."
"And you will be able to," Draven said, gesturing toward a pair of worn chairs near the back of the room. "Sit. Let's talk."
Han hesitated, then did. It felt… strange. Sitting without checking the walls or watching the shadows. But he let himself relax.
Draven poured two drinks from a dark bottle. Passed one over.
"No speeches," Draven said. "But I like to know the people I trust. East Blue isn't just walls and weapons. It's people. And right now, most of the decisions are being made by those who know how to kill, not necessarily how to build."
Han raised an eyebrow.
"You're smart," Draven continued. "Measured. I could use that. So could the others on the council."
Han stared at him. "Council?"
Draven nodded. "It's not official. Yet. But it's coming together. The strongest ascenders have a say. We rotate duty leads, map the safe zones, monitor food flow, assign squads. You'd be the sixth seat, if you're willing."
Han took a sip of the drink. Harsh. Strong. Real.
"I don't know what I'd add," he admitted.
"Perspective," Draven said without hesitation. "You've seen things most of them haven't. You think before you act. You speak when it matters. That's rare."
Han exhaled slowly. "Alright. I'll take it. But I'm not a leader."
"Good," Draven said, grinning. "Neither are we. You know, it was hard at first, people wouldn't listen, everyone wanted to lead, after gaining all this power, they thought they were now above the law. Fortunately, I got an innate ability stronger than most. That helped keep the unruly ones in check."
They talked late into the night.
Not just strategy. Not just roles.
They talked about the world. About what came before, and what might come next.
Han learned that Draven had been a survival instructor before the collapse. That East Blue started with just a dozen tents and a stubborn refusal to die. That every wall had a story. Draven's expertise helped.
It felt like a miracle that they had survived till now, but no, it wasn't. They had done so through grit and determination, working together.
They laughed a little. Traded old world references. Bonded in the way only people who've walked through hell can.
When Han finally stepped out into the night, the stars were bright and scattered like spilled ash across the sky.
The wind was cool. Quiet.
He walked back to the cottage with steady steps.
Inside, the others were already asleep. Except Sarah, who sat near the window, watching the stars.
She looked at him as he entered. "I couldn't sleep. I wonder if he had something to eat?"
"Well..." he said simply.
She smiled. A small, tired smile. "Good night."
He didn't say more.
He didn't need to.
He walked past her, paused at Aria's room, watching the small rise and fall of her chest, peaceful.
And then he went to sleep.
For the first time in what felt like forever…
He dreamed.
Of building, not running.
Of their little group, smiling, Adrien with them.
...
Morning in East Blue was a flurry of movement.
Scouts returned from their night patrols, carts full of scavenged tech and supplies rolled in from nearby ruins, and builders shouted orders as another stretch of wall was reinforced with steel plating.
The survivor town lived like a machine, noisy, imperfect, but undeniably alive.
Inside the command building, Han stood at the edge of the central room, flanked by five others.
The council. 'They are all so young.' They were all men and women in their late twenties, early thirties like him. Well, most of them. Gregor looked older.
Darian sat to his right, a scout leader through and through, sharp eyes, faster mind. Beside him was Elena, a former engineer turned logistics master.
Then Juno, a Firestarter with a reputation for being reckless but effective. Two more he didn't know well, Gregor, a tank of a man with a voice like gravel, and Kael, who barely spoke but had a way of making you feel like he'd already dissected your entire existence in a glance.
Draven stood at the front.
He didn't speak from above. He stood among them, eye-level, calm.
"East Blue is growing faster than we expected," he said. "That's good, but it means we need structure. The other strongholds haven't sent word since we established a communication channel last week, but they will soon."
He looked at Han. "This is Han. He's the newest seat. He's fought what most of us haven't even seen. That's enough for me."
No one objected.
Han gave a small nod. "Happy to be of service. Former marine camp Bastion."
They all raised their eyebrows in surprise. They all thought, 'He looks too young to have been a marine in the military camp.' But his build and strong gaze spoke volumes.
Draven grinned. "Which is exactly why he's here."
They spent the next hour going over reports. Routes cleared. Supplies gained. A new strain of mutated beasts spotted two miles south.
One of the outposts had gone dark for thirty hours, Juno volunteered to check it out with a squad.
It was work.
It was normal.
And it felt strangely… right.
...
Han found Darian near the perimeter, barking orders at a squad of young scouts. The man moved with sharp efficiency, eyes constantly scanning, never still. When Han approached, Darian didn't pause his instruction.
"Keep your formations tight, report any signs of burrowers. Don't chase movement without confirming what it is."
Once the scouts dispersed, Darian turned to Han, one eyebrow already raised. "Checking on the babysitters?"
Han smirked. "Just getting to know the people I'm working with."
Darian didn't smile back, but he gave a small nod. "Fair enough. You've got soldier eyes. Not surprised Draven picked you."
"What's your story?"
"Used to lead mountain SAR before the collapse. Then, we started pulling bodies out instead of survivors." He glanced toward the treeline. "Didn't stop. Just changed who we saved."
Han admired the bluntness. "You don't trust easily."
"No. And that's why I'm still alive." Darian met his gaze. "But I respect capability. I'll watch your back. Just don't give me a reason not to."
Han nodded. It was all the approval he needed from Darian.
....
He found Elena near the solar station, hands deep in a gutted machine. Her jacket was stained with oil, sleeves rolled up, dark curls tied back.
"Careful, that thing bites," she said without looking up.
Han crouched beside her. "Thought I'd see what keeps East Blue running."
"That and a hell of a lot of duct tape," Elena muttered. She finally looked at him, eyes bright behind goggles. "Marine, right? Bastion?"
"Yeah."
"You ever work comms or logistics?"
"A bit. Not my specialty."
"Well, mine either. I was an architect. Urban design, sustainable systems. Now I'm just trying to get this old tech up and running. They all think it's useless, I mean we have devices from the system, and here I am trying to revive a dead world. But I love these machines, I just don't want to see them wiped off the face of the earth."
She stood and wiped her hands. "We make it up as we go. That's what survival is. And I reckon we won't have enough funds to get every single thing we need from the system store."
Han tilted his head. "You seem to be doing more than surviving."
Elena grinned. "Yeah. That's the idea."
...
Juno was in the sparring yard, throwing jets of flame at a reinforced target like it owed her money. Her presence was fire too, uncontained, passionate, a live wire.
"You wanna talk, better bring water," she said, not turning around.
Han raised an eyebrow but grabbed a nearby canteen and tossed it to her. She caught it mid-spin, cracked the top, and took a long swig before finally looking at him.
"You the quiet kind or the judging kind?" she asked.
"I'm the listening kind."
Juno chuckled. "Nice answer. You're not half as stiff as I thought."
She slung a towel around her neck. "Most people think I'm reckless. Maybe I am. But someone's gotta hit first, hit hard, and keep hitting until the thing's dead."
"You like the front lines."
"Love 'em. Keeps the nightmares away."
Han watched the flame dance at her fingertips. "You control that better than anyone I've seen."
"Damn right I do." Her tone was proud but not arrogant. "It's part of me now. You don't cage it. You learn to dance with it."
He nodded. "I'll remember that."
...
Gregor was at the forge, shaping a slab of metal with slow, deliberate strikes. The air was thick with heat and sweat, but his motions were calm, methodical.
"Hello ummmm," he greeted, voice like rumbling earth.
"Just Han," he replied.
Gregor set the hammer down and wiped his brow. "You came to talk, or you need something built?"
"Talk," Han said. "Wanted to know who's got my back."
Gregor chuckled, low and warm. "You're all right. Remind me of my youngest boy. Always thinking too much before speaking."
Han tilted his head. "You have family?"
"Had," Gregor said softly, staring into the coals. "Not anymore."
Han didn't pry. Gregor didn't seem to need pity.
"I build because it's the only thing that still feels solid. World changed, but steel's still steel. Walls are still walls. You make something real, it stays."
Han nodded slowly. "We'll need strong walls in the days ahead."
"And strong hands," Gregor agreed, gripping his hammer again. "Yours seem steady."
...
Kael was harder to find.
Han finally spotted him sitting cross-legged on a rooftop, staring out toward the forest like he was listening to something the world couldn't hear.
Han climbed up, careful not to disturb him. For a while, neither of them spoke.
Then Kael said quietly, "You dream in colors?"
Han frowned. "Sometimes."
"Since becoming an ascender?"
Han paused. "Yeah."
Kael finally looked at him. His eyes were like cut glass, emotionless but endlessly deep. "Means the aether hasn't burned away your memory yet. That's good."
"You've seen people lose themselves?"
Kael nodded once. "Some burn too hot, too fast. Some forget why they fight. When that happens… they break."
Han sat down beside him. "How do you stay grounded?"
Kael didn't answer immediately. Then: "By remembering one good thing every day."
Han smiled faintly. "What was today's?"
Kael gestured toward the sun breaking over the trees. "This. It's still rising."
...
Han returned to the cottage as the sun dipped again, painting the horizon in molten gold. The others were gathered, preparing a simple dinner.
Sarah looked up. "You were gone a while."
"Getting to know the council," Han said.
Ria gave him a small smirk. "And? Are we in good hands?"
Han looked around at their faces. Darian's sharp mind. Elena's tireless hands. Juno's fire. Gregor's strength. Kael's stillness.
"Yeah," he said. "I think we are."
Mel handed him a bowl of stew and sat beside him. "And you?"
Han took a breath, felt it fill his lungs without strain or fear.
"I'm starting to believe in this place."