Cassius prepared a modest meal—his first real one since entering the bunker. Thanks to the newly awakened Growth arcane, he managed to coax fresh vegetables out of the hydroponics unit.
It wasn't fancy, but it was food.
He chewed thoughtfully, gazing toward the sealed hallway. "If I want fruits, I'll need an actual farm room..."
After cleaning up, he wandered into the main hallway. His fingers brushed the edge of his collarbone. Faint sigils shimmered against his skin—Water, his birth arcane, pulsed gently with familiarity. But now it was joined by three more: Growth, Embuement, and Stars.
Gifts, it seemed, of becoming a shelter leader.
He didn't know how to feel about that.
He hated science—or maybe, more accurately, he hated the weight it carried. The pressure. The legacy. His parents, both respected in their fields, had expected him to surpass them. Not once had they asked what he wanted.
And now here he was. A walking contradiction. A researcher who despised his field, but knew nothing else.
Sighing, Cassius made his way to the sealed door again. Something about it called to him. He reached out—fingers barely brushing its cold, untouched surface—
> —. . .—
{Sealed Room > Shelter Ascension Room}
{Access: Locked}
{Requirement: Shelter Grade B + 1 B-Grade Soul Core}
—. . .—
[Objective: Investigate Sealed Room]
+60 EXP
{Shelter Level: 84/100}
—. . .—
"Shelter Ascension Room?" he repeated aloud.
> —. . .—
{My apologies. Information is classified. Please meet required Shelter Grade for access.}
—. . .—
He frowned. There was a vague itch at the back of his skull—a sense that whatever was behind that door, it was important.
But not for now.
He turned away and made his way back to the communal room. The shelter was clean, stable... and dull.
Cassius stared at the entrance hatch. Something stirred in him. Restlessness. A craving for fresh air—or maybe just the illusion of freedom.
He grabbed his sidearm, reloaded it, and strapped two knives to his belt. His ID badge hung around his neck, hidden under his shirt. With a final glance at the room, he pulled the hatch lever and stepped outside.
The air was sharp, dry. Contaminated in ways his lungs still weren't used to. But it was better than filtered air. Real.
"Fresh air..." he muttered. "Three days and it already feels like a lifetime."
He walked a short distance, feeling the gravel crunch beneath his boots. Then, a chime.
> —. . .—
[Warning: Shelter Leader Detaching from Core Radius]
[Leadership Restriction Activated]
[Current Maximum Radius: 500 Meters]
[Further Movement Will Trigger Recall Protocol]
▸ Risk: Core Drain
▸ Risk: Shelter Instability
▸ Risk: System Collapse
—. . .—
"What...?"
He took another step. A crushing weight pressed on his chest—not pain, but like gravity thickening around him.
Red flashes pulsed in his peripheral vision.
> —. . .—
[Core Anchor Straining. Please return to tether radius.]
—. . .—
He tried to push forward.
His legs gave out.
He dropped to the ground, gasping. Crawling back inch by inch until the pressure lifted.
"What the hell was that?!"
He sat in the dirt, sweat clinging to his brow. "Is that what it meant by 'leadership restriction'?"
The system answered with the same detached calm as always.
> —. . .—
{Recommendation: Recruit Survivors. Tasks impossible for shelter leaders—such as scavenging—can be assigned to residents. Roles may be designated based on achievements, abilities, or profession.}
—. . .—
He scowled. "Great. So I'm the king of a kingdom I can't even walk away from."
He straightened. "Fine... System, scan for nearby survivors."
> —. . .—
[Scanning... Searching radius: 30 kilometers]
▸ No human survivors detected within range.
▸ Unknown lifeforms detected. Estimated 132 F-Grade Soul Cores.
▸ Distance: 10 kilometers
—. . .—
"Tch... That's outside my damn leash," he muttered, punching the ground.
He stood, dusted himself off, and searched the limited nearby area for anything usable. A few empty cans, brittle weeds, and a broken umbrella. Not exactly treasure.
Returning to the bunker with empty hands, Cassius dropped onto the couch and decided to explore something low-effort: the old tapes and television.
The static flickered. After some fiddling, the screen brightened and a film began to play.
A second later, his brows shot up.
"…What the hell is this?"
He squinted.
It was... an adult film. From maybe two decades ago, judging by the quality and fashion.
Cassius tilted his head, puzzled.
He didn't get it. Not the love, not the sex, not the moaning.
It was awkward. Loud. Emotionally messy.
"Is this what people think romance is?"
He clicked the remote off and sat there in silence.
It wasn't disgust he felt. Just... confusion. An absence of connection.
He'd never been close to anyone. Never understood intimacy—not physically, not emotionally. Most of his relationships were scientific partnerships. Dry. Efficient. Cold.
A long pause settled before he whispered to no one, "I don't think I know how to be a person."
The system, mercifully, stayed quiet this time.
Cassius leaned back, eyes flickering to the ceiling.
The food might've helped his body.
But the loneliness?
That was going to take longer to fix.