The world was quiet again, too quiet.
The sky, once filled with shrieks and cracking glass-air as monsters descended, had gone dark with ash. Burned paper drifted like snowflakes, and every step Jaden took stirred the soot like smoke from old memories.
Their new shelter wasn't much: the hollowed shell of what used to be a daycare. The walls partially collapsed, but the back corner held strong reinforced by piled desks, stuffed animals now caked with grime, and Silas's stubborn refusal to sleep "anywhere ugly."
"'If I'm gonna die again,'" Silas had declared with a dramatic sigh, "'I'm dying surrounded by glitter glue and tiny chairs.'"
Jaden didn't argue. He was too tired.
Now, in the dim glow of a small fire crackling in a broken metal trash bin, the group huddled for warmth. Aya was curled up in a tattered blanket that smelled like crayons and mildew, head resting on Jaden's thigh. Rowan sat across from them, legs pulled up to his chest, eyes darting to the shadows every few seconds.
Silas lay on his back, arms flopped out wide, staring at the ceiling.
Jaden was cleaning his wound.
"You're not immortal," Jaden muttered, dabbing Silas's shoulder with gauze. The slash from earlier hadn't been deep, but it shimmered with that strange gold-pink light that meant it came from something… wrong.
"I'm emotionally immortal," Silas replied. "That counts."
"You got hit by a seven-foot Manifest with tentacles and an attitude problem."
"And lived. Because I'm a hero. I demand stickers."
Jaden didn't look up. "What you need is stitches."
"I'd prefer a cat bandage. You know the kind. The ones that meow in spirit."
Aya stirred. "You got hurt protecting us."
Silas tilted his head toward her. "Of course I did, tiny bean sprout. I'm your celestial sponsor. It's in the fine print. Somewhere under 'occasional dramatic monologue' and 'memes per minute quota.'"
Rowan let out a short laugh, surprised. His shoulders relaxed just a little.
Jaden noticed. He tucked the gauze roll back into his bag and looked at Rowan. "You feeling okay?"
The boy shrugged. "Better than yesterday."
Yesterday had been near-death. That counted.
Rowan glanced at Silas. "Was that thing after you? Or us?"
Silas's smile faded for a second just a flicker. Then he sat up, brushing ash from his hair. "It wasn't after anyone in particular. It's part of the cleanup crew. The System is still glitching. Things crawl in from broken shards of reality."
"System?" Rowan asked.
Aya perked up. "What system?"
Jaden had been wondering that, too.
Silas folded his legs and leaned in, voice low and almost conspiratorial. "Okay, kids. Time for Apocalypse 101."
He reached into his coat and pulled out a chalkboard no, wait, it was a child's dry erase board with faded unicorn stickers. Where he got it, Jaden didn't ask.
He flipped it around and began drawing circles with a bright pink marker.
"Reality isn't a single thread," he began, sketching jagged loops. "It's a tangle. A bunch of interconnected systems layered over each other like cursed lasagna."
Aya snorted.
"Some of those layers got corrupted," Silas continued. "The Manifest? They're echoes. Bad code. Think of them as pop-up ads with claws."
Jaden frowned. "And you?"
"I'm like... the ad blocker with wings." Silas grinned. "I filter the nonsense and flirt with the survivors. Also, I glow sometimes."
Rowan looked skeptical. "You're not like any angel I've heard of."
"Yeah, well, heaven went corporate. I quit for artistic freedom."
There was a pause, and then Silas leaned his head back against the crumbling wall.
"…But I'm still here because I care."
The fire popped.
Aya reached across and took Rowan's hand. Her tiny fingers curled into his, and he let them.
Jaden watched them quietly. Then he looked at Silas, who was now frowning at the unicorn board like it had betrayed him.
"You okay?" Jaden asked.
Silas shrugged. "Yeah. Just thinking about what I'd trade for a single working toaster and two slices of garlic bread."
Jaden didn't smile, not really. But something in his chest eased a little.
Outside, the wind howled past the broken swingset. Metal creaked in rhythm, like a lullaby from a dying world.
Aya fell asleep first.
Jaden stayed up, cleaning his weapon, back turned toward the fire but ears alert.
He heard Silas shift behind him.
"You're different," Silas said, voice softer now.
Jaden didn't turn. "What do you mean?"
"Most people I meet now are too far gone. Scared. Violent. Empty."
"I'm not a hero," Jaden replied.
"Didn't say you were. I said you were different."
Silas stood and stretched, his wing-lights flickering dimly like bioluminescent feathers. He walked over and nudged Jaden's shoulder with his own.
"I like that about you," he said. "You don't pretend to be anything you're not."
Jaden looked up at him, and in the silence between them, the fire cracked one more time low and warm.
For the first time in weeks, Jaden let his guard down, just a little.
Silas plopped down beside him and leaned back again. "You ever see those videos where cats knock things off counters just for fun?"
"…Yeah."
"I'd be that cat. You'd be the counter. Unmoved. Dignified."
Jaden snorted.
And Silas beamed.
Author's note:
Rowan: waking up with cookie crumbs
Aya:¯\(◉‿◉)/¯