Midnight crept over the campsite, quiet and cold. Hale woke on her own and stepped out of the tent. Ryan sat beside the campfire, the flames crackling softly as they gnawed through the wood.
He looked up when she approached and pushed himself to his feet.
"Time to switch, huh?"
"Yeah," Hale said. "I'll take over. Go get some shut-eye. You look tired."
Ryan rubbed at his right eye, shoulders heavy. "Didn't get a second of rest after the Watcher mission."
He handed her the rifle, then glanced back toward the tent. Angelo was completely still, face relaxed in rare, deep sleep.
Ryan lowered his voice.
"I don't think we should wake him tonight. He needs it."
Hale settled beside the fire, feeding it a few dry branches.
"You're right. With the mess with his family… the Watcher, the angels, and now these new creatures? He's been through too much."
Ryan nodded and slipped into the tent. He crawled into his sleeping bag and drifted off almost instantly. Beside him, Angelo lay motionless—peaceful, quiet.
But his consciousness wasn't there.
He was back in the Void.
He sat on his throne—crimson and pure white intertwined, carved with impossible patterns. The world around him stretched into nothingness. The Endless. Silent. Empty.
Both beings were gone.
But unease gnawed at him. Something was watching him.
His gaze drifted downward.
The Void was moving.
Something churned below, rising—slow and deliberate, like a tide preparing to swallow everything. And the stare he felt… it came from beneath.
His eyes snapped open.
The sky was still dark. Ryan slept soundly at his side.
Angelo slipped out of the tent. The cold air bit at his skin as he found Hale sitting watch, rifle slung over her shoulder.
"You're up?" she said without turning.
"You should've woken me." Angelo replied, stretching his arms.
"You looked too peaceful," Hale said, finally glancing his way. "Figured you needed it."
Angelo let out a slow breath. "I assure you, it wasn't a peaceful dream."
Hale poked at the fire with a stick. "Wanna talk about it?"
Angelo shook his head. "No. I'm fine. You should get some rest, Lieutenant. I'll take over."
She pointed the glowing tip of the stick at him. "You're the one who needs more rest. You were in bad shape a few hours ago."
Angelo stepped closer and sat across from her. "Yeah. My whole body's still a wreck. Even the slightest movement feels like my muscles are being torn apart."
"That's why I'm telling you to lie down," Hale said, annoyed.
Angelo tossed a few branches into the fire. "I don't want to sleep right now."
Then—almost to himself—"Not after what I saw."
Hale didn't catch the last part.
"What I'm saying is," Angelo continued, softer, "I'm already up. I don't feel like lying down. I'll take over the last few hours while you get some rest."
Hale sighed. "You sure you'll be alright?"
Angelo nodded. "Yeah. I'll be fine. I'll call you and Ryan if something happens."
She stood, dropping the stick into the flames. Before stepping into the tent, she glanced back with a faint smirk.
"If you want a midnight snack, there's some in the back of Nomad."
Angelo managed a tired smile. "Then I'll help myself to a nibble."
"Just don't eat them all," she said, disappearing inside.
With the camp quiet again, Angelo pulled out Grant's notebook and flipped through pages on theoretical physics—gravity wells, temporal displacement, the violent collapse of supernovae. But the words barely registered. His eyes moved, but his mind drifted—to the Void, to that rising tide, to the cracks spreading across the mark on his back.
He eventually lowered the notebook and set it beside him.
His hand drifted over his back through his shirt, fingertips brushing the place where the cracks had spread. His gaze shifted to the rifle Hale left leaning beside the tent. For a moment, he just stared.
Then he reached out, fingers curling around the cold metal.
It felt the same temperature as his soul.
Angelo lifted the rifle, resting it across his lap. His eyes were empty, hollow in the firelight; his finger hovered over the trigger, close enough that the slightest tremor could've been enough.
But he exhaled—a long, tired breath—and lowered the weapon, setting it against his leg.
Dragging his palm down his face, he whispered into the quiet:
"Can't afford to break now."
His voice sounded worn, like something fraying at the edges.
The sun eventually crept over the horizon. Hale and Ryan stirred awake to find Angelo already tending the fire, prepping a small meal. After they ate, Angelo stood and stretched, his tone back to its usual strength.
"We need to move faster. The creatures didn't stop—not even for a moment."
Hale nodded and fired up Nomad. They hit the road again, pushing farther north. Behind them, the creatures continued their merciless advance, slaughtering anything left behind.
The evacuation from the base had finished. Civilians and soldiers alike headed southeast, desperate and terrified.
Inside one of the convoys, General Pierce gripped a handheld radio and tuned to their frequency.
"Team Nomad, report."
Angelo picked up the receiver. "This is Angelo from Team Nomad. We're moving north. Covered a lot of ground yesterday."
"How's the situation?" the General asked.
"The road's quiet. Too quiet. But it's working—they're still following us."
A pause.
Then Angelo added, softer, "How's my family?"
"They're safe," Pierce replied. "Shaken after Grant gave them a piece of his mind, but they'll be okay."
Angelo let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Is Grant nearby? Can I talk to him?"
"Different transport. Hold on—I'll patch him in."
Static crackled. Then:
"Angelo? You wanted to talk?"
"Yeah. I heard you gave my family a piece of your mind?"
A short pause.
"… Yeah. I wanted to see how they were holding up." Grant's tone hardened. "Then your brother started speaking bullshit. So I set him straight."
Hale glanced at Angelo, surprised. Angelo turned the radio her way as she chimed in:
"Seriously? I can't imagine you snapping at anyone."
Even Ryan looked up from the backseat, eyebrows raised.
Grant continued, "What was I supposed to do—let him blame Angelo for everything? Sorry, kid, but I couldn't let that slide."
A moment of quiet.
"They know what you've been through now."
Angelo pulled the radio back, exhaling. "It doesn't matter. They already see me as a monster. But… thanks for standing up for me."
Before Grant could answer, Hale cut in, "Don't be like that. Everything's going to be alright. We'll help you fix things with your family."
Grant added, "Yeah. When I spoke to them, your mother and father were worried—kept asking if you were okay."
Ryan chimed in from the backseat, "I don't know the full story, but I'll help too."
Hale didn't take her eyes off the road. "When I said 'we'll help,' I included you, dumbass."
Ryan nodded philosophically. "Ah. I see."
Angelo, quiet for a long stretch, finally gave a faint smile. "I love you all."
Grant laughed softly.
From the backseat, Ryan said, "I love you too."
Hale didn't let the moment settle. "That's gay."
Both Angelo and Ryan froze.
Grant's voice burst through the radio. "Marcelle! You have to ruin a good moment, don't you?!"
Angelo shot back, "What the fuck, Lieutenant? Why are you like this?"
Ryan protested, "Yeah—how was that gay? I just returned Angelo's feelings."
Hale's tone remained deadly calm: "And that is gay."
Ryan and Angelo devolved into a flustered argument while Hale drove with zero remorse. Grant eventually cut through their bickering:
"Anyway, Angelo—don't get yourself killed, kid."
Angelo smiled faintly. "I don't plan to."