The bus rumbled on, cutting through the dead veins of the city, surrounded on all sides by scorched trees and broken lampposts. Inside, silence reigned.
The 50 chosen survivors stared ahead blankly, unable or unwilling to speak. The air carried the raw scent of fear and guilt.
Lotus's voice still buzzing in his head. It had been so long since the system had said anything that he'd nearly forgotten its presence. But now, it came back with the sharpness of a blade.
He rubbed at his eyes, his throat feeling dry. "You're wrong, we'll all find a way to help him somehow.." he whispered under his breath.
(No, Haoyu. They will not, they'll leverage off him until he has nothing and start complaining when he doesn't give them)
He stared ahead, to where Sun Zi Mo drove in near-absolute stillness, then glanced behind him to where Feng Yizhou sat, eyes half-lidded, arms folded. The man looked like he hadn't slept in days.
Probably because he hadn't.
