After delivering Sam's new notebook, AJ found himself lingering in the workshop area, his mind turning over the events of the past few days.
The memory of Marcus's unnatural ability during their battle had been nagging at him—the way he had grown stronger with each wound, converting damage into power.
That wasn't normal, AJ thought, recalling how Marcus had seemed to relish taking hits rather than avoiding them. Cultivation alone shouldn't be able to create that kind of ability.
The realisation struck him suddenly. Every human on Earth had made a wish, some, like their own had granted special abilities.
What if Marcus's power came from his wish?
The implications made AJ pause. If Marcus had gained supernatural abilities from his wish, then other residents might harbour similar secrets.
AJ made his way to the administrative building, where he gathered the core team in the still incomplete building. Sunlight streamed through the windows as Maria, Victor, Walter, Ethan, Sam, and Lily settled around the wooden table.
"I've been thinking about Marcus," AJ began. "His ability to absorb damage and convert it to strength... it can't have been part of his cultivation, it was abnormal, too strong for his level."
After pondering for a moment Walter leaned forward. "Are you suggesting it was from his wish?"
"Has to be," AJ replied. "We all made wishes. Every human on Earth did. Marcus's power was too strong, and too unique to be anything else."
"Makes sense, what about it though?" Ethan asked.
"It means," Sam said slowly, "some of our residents might have abilities they haven't told us about."
"There's a lot of potential there," Victor spoke, "It's not just about having useful abilities for construction or other, there are also security concerns."
Maria nodded. "We should survey everyone, find out what they wished for."
"And not just current residents," Victor added. "We need to ask anyone who joins the settlement going forward."
"Let's gather everyone in the plaza," Maria decided. "We should handle this quickly and openly."
---
Within an hour, most of the settlement had assembled in the central plaza. The core team explained their reasoning while AJ outlined what they hoped to learn from the survey.
"We're not judging anyone's choices," Maria spoke. "We just want to understand what abilities might exist in our community."
The response was more positive than expected. Most residents seemed to understand the potential benefits that would come from this.
"I wished for enough money to pay off my debts," Thomas called out. "Seemed like the most important thing at the time."
"Food for my family," someone else said. "We were struggling before... all this happened."
Several residents wrote their wishes on scraps of paper rather than speaking them aloud. Catherine scribbled something down and handed it to Maria with a slight flush, she wished for her engineering degree to actually lead to steady and well paid work.
A few responses stood out as potentially valuable. Claire quietly mentioned wishing to be smarter, though she couldn't tell if it had actually worked.
One of the younger residents claimed he'd wished for perfect memory, and indeed seemed to recall conversations and details with unusual clarity. Another young resident said that his wish allowed him to function on much less sleep than before.
The pair's wishes drew a few knowing smiles and nods, university students don't have it easy.
The pattern was clear, most people had made gut reactions rather than digging deeper into the matter.
---
With the survey complete, AJ and Victor made their way to the makeshift prison where the Iron Vanguard captives were being held. The 6 soldiers looked up as they approached, wariness evident in their expressions.
"Same question we asked everyone else," AJ said without preamble. "What did you wish for during the event?"
The prisoners exchanged glances, their silence stretching uncomfortably. Finally, a scarred middle-aged man crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall.
"Why should we tell you anything?" he spoke.
"Because cooperation makes things easier for everyone," Victor replied evenly.
"Easier for you, maybe." The man spat to the side. "We're not your people, we don't owe you anything."
Ben, the youngest prisoner, shifted nervously but remained silent when the older soldier's eyes fixed on him with a warning look.
A woman near the back, Lyra, watched the exchange while slowly eating, on the surface she seemed indifferent but her eyes revealed she was carefully observing.
"Look," AJ said, trying a different approach. "We're not asking for your deep dark secrets. Just what you wished for when the voice spoke to everyone."
"And what if we refuse?" another prisoner asked.
Victor's expression hardened slightly. "Then we assume you're hiding something dangerous."
The scarred soldier laughed bitterly. "Tell you what you want to know, or you decide we're threats?"
"You are threats, don't forget the massacre you caused." Victor tone chilled.
The standoff continued for several more moments before the youngest prisoner, Ben, broke under the pressure.
"I wished for my older brother to come home safe from deployment," he blurted out, then immediately looked away from his fellow soldiers' disapproving stares.
The admission seemed to crack something in the group's resistance. One of them sighed heavily. "Wished to see my daughter again. Hadn't seen her since the divorce."
One by one, most of the others grudgingly offered similar responses, they wished for safety and money. The scarred soldier remained stubbornly silent.
"What about you, Damien?" Victor asked. The man had been unusually quiet since his capture, keeping his head down and avoiding eye contact with anyone.
Damien shifted uncomfortably, his hands fidgeting with a loose thread on his shirt.
"I wished for status," he muttered, the words barely audible. "To be important, respected."
"Why didn't you try to escape during the battle?" AJ asked out of curiosity.
"I'm not answering that."
AJ simply nodded. "What about you?"
The man glanced around at his fellow prisoners before responding. "Wished to never go hungry again. Simple as that."
Lyra, who had been eating quietly in the corner, looked up. "No, you didn't."
Everyone turned to stare at her. The accused prisoner's face scrunched up.
"What would you know about it?" he snapped defensively.
Ignoring the man, she returned to her meal without elaborating.
The tension in the small space became palpable. The man's jaw worked silently for several moments before he finally spoke again.
"Fine. I wished for courage in battle. To never feel fear when fighting." His voice was bitter.
Victor and AJ exchanged a meaningful glance.
When AJ addressed Lyra directly, she looked up with the same neutral expression she'd worn since her capture.
"And what did you wish for during the event?" AJ asked.
Lyra's chewing slowed. She studied his face for a long moment before swallowing. "Don't remember."
AJ waited, watching Lyra's expression.
"What did you ask for?" He pressed gently.
Several seconds passed in silence as everyone looked in her direction.
"Peace," she said simply. "I wished for peace."
"Peace from what?" AJ pressed.
Her eyes never left his face. "From all the noise and chaos and... everything."
The 2 then left, as he turned he noticed Victor's sceptical expression.
As they walked away, Victor spoke quietly. "She's obviously lying. Why would she call out the other guy for lying about his wish only to lie about her own."
"Not sure," AJ agreed. "We'll need to keep an eye on her."
The survey had confirmed AJ's theory, most people's wishes weren't of any use in the new world, however some people had wished for things that could be of use.
For example Sam had taken Claire with him to see if she really had become smarter, and the younger man with the good memory would be worth training.
---
The rest of the day proceeded with the reconstruction work. It was now 2 days after the funeral, Valentra had begun to resemble a functioning settlement again.
The debris was cleared, the most dangerous structural damage had been repaired, and the buildings beyond saving had been demolished and their materials salvaged.
Residents moved through streets lined with temporary shelters—a mixture of tents, from the River Pact traders, and hastily constructed wooden shacks that housed those whose homes had been destroyed.
The morning air carried the sound of hammers and saws as construction crews worked on priority rebuilds. Near the ruined eastern gate, Thomas directed a team assembling the framework for a new gate.
"The gate comes first," Maria had decided during the previous day's planning meeting.
The decision had been unanimous. After the gate, Robert's smithy would be rebuilt, then the medical centre restocked, then the damaged houses.
The original wooden gate had been effective for keeping out the nasty creatures, but the Iron Vanguard assault had revealed its weaknesses against organised human attackers.
Thomas's new design incorporated lessons learned from the battle, they would use thicker timber reinforced with metal brackets, sturdier stone foundations, and a redesign of the watchtowers would be done to improve sight lines for defenders.
"This new version will be stronger than the last," Thomas told the construction crew as they worked on the frame. "The next group that tries to break down this gate is going to have a much harder time."
Catherine had contributed to the design. The new gate would feature a bar system that distributed force across multiple points, making it extremely difficult to break through with brute force alone. Metal reinforcements were being integrated into key stress points.
"It'll take them siege engines to get through this," Catherine observed with satisfaction, examining the heavy timber being fitted into place. "And we'll see those coming and be able to deal with them."
The rhythmic hammering from the construction sites occasionally caused residents to pause and look around nervously, the sound too reminiscent of the battle just days before.
Several workers had to take breaks when the sound of splitting wood brought back memories of the gate being destroyed. Thomas noticed this and gave them the space and time they needed.
Despite the workers taking regular breaks the work was proceeding steadily, thanks partly to the steady flow of materials from the prisoners. Timber and stone blocks were arriving in regular shipments, keeping the construction crews supplied with everything they needed.
---
Later that day, Victor returned to address the prisoners again. The earlier tension hadn't dissipated—if anything, the questioning had made the atmosphere more hostile.
"You're all being assigned more work," Victor announced.
The scarred soldier who'd been most resistant earlier scoffed. "More demands?"
"This is an opportunity," Victor corrected. "It's a chance to prove you can be trusted."
"Trusted to do what?" One of them asked. "Be your slaves?"
Victor's patience was wearing thin. "Trusted to eventually join the settlement instead of rotting in custody."
"If you refuse to work you'll stay locked up indefinitely or eventually executed depending on our food supply." Victor's tone carried no compromise. "Your choice."
Young Ben looked between his fellow prisoners and Victor nervously. "What kind of work?"
"Manual labour. You'll gather materials from outside the settlement, you'll have guards with you of course." Victor studied their reactions.
"Work hard and behave, and you can earn your freedom. Cause problems, and this living arrangement becomes permanent."
The scarred soldier stood up. "So we're slaves until you decide we've done enough work?"
"You're prisoners of war who attacked our settlement," Victor replied coldly. "The fact that you're getting any chance at freedom is more generous than you deserve."
"We were following orders," Someone said, though his voice lacked conviction.
"Your orders don't excuse what you did." Victor shot back.
The group fell silent, even the scarred soldier seemed to deflate slightly.
"Any other complaints?" Victor asked, his voice carrying an edge that suggested he'd heard enough.
The prisoners exchanged glances but remained silent. The terms were clear enough—cooperation meant survival and eventual freedom, resistance meant extended captivity and potentially death.
"We'll prepare to send you out later today," Victor spoke. "Anyone who tries to escape will be killed without exception."
He turned and walked away, leaving the prisoners to contemplate their situation.
---
Near the livestock pens, Walter approached the bison with the harness that had been carefully stored after their previous experiment. The large, shaggy creatures had proven surprisingly cooperative during last time, and Walter was eager to build on that success.
"Time to see if you're still willing to cooperate," Walter said to the familiar bull, who wandered over to investigate. The animal's massive head lowered to sniff at the leather straps in Walter's hands.
Henrik, one of the River Pact traders, appeared with Lily, both carrying the rope they'd made for training purposes. "Ready to try the next step?" Henrik asked.
Walter nodded, as he was fitting the harness. The bison stood patiently as he positioned the leather straps around its body.
"Good boy," Walter murmured, adjusting the final strap.
With the harness secured, Walter attached the rope and began walking slowly around the pen. The bison needed a little coercion but it did follow him, its massive hooves creating soft thuds in the packed earth as it moved along side him.
"He's responding well to your guidance." Lily smiled.
Walter guided the creature through several turns and stops, testing its willingness to follow directions. The bison proved remarkably trainable, responding to gentle tugs on the rope and even picking up on some voice commands.
"I think he's ready for the next test," Walter said, patting the animal's flank.