Toronto, Ontario – August 26, 2025. 10:22 p.m.
The lantern in the main bay had been turned down to its lowest setting. Just enough light to see shapes, not enough to be seen from outside.
Elias sat on a metal crate near the loading door, back against the wall, one knee up. His pipe—scavenged from the same hardware store as most of their tools—rested across his lap. He wasn't smoking. There were no cigarettes left anyway. He just liked having something to hold.
Outside, the drizzle had stopped. The air was cold and still. Every few minutes a distant howl or screech carried on the wind—animal, monster, didn't matter. Noise was background now.
Inside, most of the group was asleep or pretending to be.
Aisha lay curled on her side near Malik, one arm draped protectively over him even though he was taller than her now. Malik was breathing steady—better than yesterday. The black veins under his skin had stopped spreading for the moment.
Jamal was on his back, hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling beams. He hadn't moved in twenty minutes. Probably not sleeping.
Talia sat cross-legged near the vine wall Kwame had grown, sharpening her box cutter again. The soft scrape-scrape was the only steady sound in the room.
Kwame was slumped against a pillar, eyes half-closed, fingers still buried in the dirt. His vines never slept.
Zara was the only one sitting close to Elias—same crate she'd claimed two nights ago, maybe three meters away. She had her knees pulled up, chin resting on them, watching him without trying to hide it.
Neither of them spoke for a long time.
Then she did.
"You didn't kill the elf today."
Elias kept staring at the door.
"Didn't need to."
Zara shifted slightly.
"You could have taken more from it. You didn't."
He finally looked at her.
"You keeping score?"
She didn't flinch.
"I'm trying to understand you."
"Don't."
She let out a small breath through her nose.
"I'm not asking for a speech. Just… why."
Elias turned his gaze back to the door.
"Because some things aren't worth the weight."
Zara waited.
He added, quieter, "Every time I take something, it stays. Not just the useful parts. The rest too. The instincts. The memories. The fear. The regret. I can feel them settle in. Like extra passengers."
She studied his profile.
"And you don't want more passengers."
"I don't want ones I can't control."
She nodded slowly.
They sat in silence again.
After a minute she asked, "Do you ever think about what happens if we don't make it?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because thinking about it doesn't change the odds. Only doing does."
Zara looked down at her hands.
"I think about it. A lot."
Elias didn't respond.
She continued anyway.
"I think about what happens if one day you're not here. Or Aisha. Or Malik. I think about being alone again."
Her voice stayed even. No tears. No shaking. Just fact.
Elias looked at her then—really looked.
The violet current between them was still there. Bright in the center, frayed at the edges. Not love. Not obsession. Something closer to need. Survival need. Belonging need.
He spoke carefully.
"You won't be alone."
She met his eyes.
"You can't promise that."
"I'm not promising. I'm stating fact. You leave, you die. You stay, you have a better chance. That's the math."
Zara gave a small, tired smile.
"Always math with you."
"Math doesn't lie."
She looked away.
After another long pause she said, "Aisha hates me."
"She doesn't hate you."
"She doesn't trust me."
"She doesn't trust anyone completely. Including me."
Zara nodded.
"I don't blame her. I'm new. I'm close to you. She's protective."
Elias didn't deny it.
Zara looked back at him.
"I'm not trying to take anything from her."
Elias didn't answer right away.
When he did, his voice was low.
"You don't have to take. Some things just move on their own."
She didn't reply.
They sat in silence until the lantern flickered once—low battery warning.
Elias stood.
"Get some rest."
Zara didn't move.
He walked past her toward the back of the bay.
She watched him go.
Then she looked across the room at Aisha—still curled around Malik, still awake, still watching Elias with the same unreadable expression she'd worn for days.
Zara exhaled quietly.
And turned the lantern down another notch.
Darkness settled.
But no one really slept.
(End of Chapter 11)