By the time we had finished moving everyone into the council hall, morning light had started to break through the cracks in the ruined buildings. The long night was finally over. For the first time in what felt like forever, nothing interrupted us. No demons. No screams. No sudden attacks. Just quiet.
Captain Strix, Liam, Iris, and I took turns guarding the building. We rotated every few hours to stay alert. Even in the silence, we couldn't afford to let our guard down. Not yet. Not here.
And to our surprise—nothing happened.
It was the first time since my reincarnation into this strange world that something I had hoped for... actually went according to plan. A small win. But it mattered.
As the sun rose higher, its warm light began to melt away the darkness that had clung to the streets. It painted the broken stones golden, as if trying to make the city look beautiful again, even just for a moment.
We stepped outside to continue searching for survivors.
We combed every street, every alley, every broken home. The smell of blood and smoke still hung in the air, but we didn't stop. We had to believe there were still people out there—someone hiding, someone waiting, someone praying.
And after hours of searching... we found them.
Only fifty.
Fifty survivors apart from the family Carlos and I had rescued. Most of them were women and children, bruised and frightened, clinging to whatever hope they had left. Some carried babies. Some held hands with trembling fingers. Some didn't even speak—they just stared blankly, as if their souls hadn't caught up with their bodies.
Captain Strix led the group, and the rest of us followed behind. Carlos and Julian stayed back in the council hall—still too weak to move. The rest of us did what we could.
We brought everyone to the minister's place—the same building where we had taken shelter before. The walls were strong, and the rooms inside were wide enough to fit all the survivors. It wasn't much, but it was safe. For now.
Inside, Captain Strix and Minister Malcolm spoke privately. They stood in a corner, voices low. I didn't hear what they said, but from the way the minister nodded and pointed at the map, I guessed they were discussing travel. Maybe the minister wanted to leave with us. Maybe he was searching for a way to keep his people safe.
I didn't ask. I had other things on my mind.
Sue—the woman whose husband Carlos and I had saved—walked up to me.
She looked tired but determined.
"There are children here," she said softly. "They're hungry. We need food. Supplies. Anything."
I nodded. "We'll get them. I promise."
Liam and Iris stood beside me.
"We'll go together," Iris said.
So we left. The city was quiet as we moved through it. The destruction was worse in the daylight. Burned homes. Crumbled towers. Blood dried into the stones. And yet, in that silence, birds began to chirp again. A few, not many.
We found what we could—dried fruits, grains, a few jugs of clean water, and medical herbs. Whatever wasn't ruined, we gathered. We carried everything in cloth sacks and blankets.
When we returned, the minister's hall was livelier. Children played quietly in corners. Mothers whispered to each other, passing bits of cloth and food. Some of the injured had been moved to makeshift beds.
Captain Strix stood at the front of the hall with Minister Malcolm and a few others. Behind them, five large wooden transport wagons were lined up outside—hitched to sturdy oxen. I didn't know where they found them, but it was like a miracle.
Strix called us over.
"Pack everything," he said. "We leave by noon."
I looked at him. "Where are we going?"
"Back to Sector 38," he said. "But first... we'll take a detour."
He glanced toward the room where Julian was resting.
"There's someone who might be able to help him. An old friend. A healer. I'm not sure if she's alive, but we need to try."
Iris stepped forward. "Does she know about curses?"
Strix nodded once. "If anyone can lift what's hurting him... it's her."
We didn't ask more.
We just did what needed to be done.
Everyone moved quickly. Supplies were loaded into the wagons. Blankets were folded. Buckets filled. Children were lifted gently into the carts. No one complained. No one argued. Everyone just helped.
Even the minister offered his thanks.
As noon approached, we stood in front of the transport wagons, looking over everything one last time. Iris sat with Carlos, helping him sip water. His face was still pale, but his eyes were more awake now. He nodded to me when I looked his way.
Julian lay in one of the wagons, his hands wrapped tightly in cloth. He hadn't spoken much, but when I leaned down to check on him, he gave me a small smile.
"Still hurts?" I asked.
He nodded. "Like fire. But I'll manage."
I wanted to say something comforting. But all I could do was squeeze his shoulder gently.
"You'll be alright," I whispered.
Strix gave the signal.
And with that... we left Venice.
The wagons creaked as they rolled through the broken gates. We looked back once—at the city that had taken so many lives. That had tested us, scarred us, but hadn't broken us.
Not completely.
I sat near the back, watching the dust rise behind the wheels. Iris rode beside Carlos. She never left his side. I noticed the way she looked at him now—softer, more tender. Her hand rested gently on his. He didn't speak much, but the way his eyes followed her... it said everything.
Sometimes love speaks louder in silence.
The road ahead was long. We didn't know what waited for us. But we had each other. And for now, that was enough.
We were no longer just survivors.
We were a family.
A family forged by fire and loss.
But still standing.
Still hoping.
Still fighting.
And the journey was far from over.