“Benefactor?” Rain asked with an uncertain tone.

He was grimacing, and just a second away from having a skull-splitting headache reminiscent of the one he had been having while studying the Plexus back at the hospital. This was related to that damned thing, surely.

The edges of Alice’s brows almost touched each other at that moment. “You don’t have one, do you? How much have you been able to figure out about the Plexus?”

Called it!

Rain exhaled then rubbed his chin. “I’d say about… eighty percent.” Skepticism kicked in. “I doubt that though. Because everytime I find out something, there’s always something else popping up from the one I just discovered. I guess I’ll shove my estimate down to fifty percent. In fact, I know nothing at all.”

Alice’s expression pinched—No. It had pinched all through Rain’s blabbering. “Anyways, I’d personally put it at fifty percent. Considering our conversation and the fact that you’re still alive despite being on your own, it’s obvious you aren’t entirely clueless.”

Rain had not been listening for a moment there. His gaze was placed on the candle Alice held and how it was painting her fingers with its wax.

That has to hurt.

He quickly disputed that thought of his, though. She had been in this world for a year plus longer than he, that meant her Attributes were way higher than his; in other words, her Durability was well past the stage where mere things such as wax would deal her any pain.

With that in mind, Rain didn’t bother telling her to just put it down and have her seat.

It’s not like she would listen to me, anyway. He was beginning to understand her character more.

“That aside,” Alice continued, “a Benefactor—”

“Wait,” Rain interjected, adamant to bring out what had reared its head in his mind before he lost the chance to. “A moment, please.”

“A moment?” Alice’s eyes narrowed, her focus wildly intense. Rain knew why. This was not the first time, after all. “You enjoy interrupting, don’t you?”

“It’s important.” He didn’t back down. “I came to a notion that a decent number of humanity are still trapped in those things called ‘pods’. Am I right?”

Alice’s tensed shoulders dropped, seemingly because Rain had asked a reasonable question which was good enough to cancel out the annoyance that usually came with being interrupted.

“You’re right,” she answered, the frown on her face softening.

“But,” Rain’s tone strained, “that doesn’t explain why this city is so desolate. A good number of people should be roaming about it. Remember, I told you you’re the first human I’ve met ever since being released from the pod, and I wasn’t lying. Secondly, this store is still so filled with a lot of things—like a fucking lot. This isn’t right, is it?”

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Alice opened her mouth to answer, but at that moment Sean tugged at the hem of her jacket’s sleeve. “My legs are hurting,” he muttered. “Can I sit?”

Rain could visualize the heaviness that fell upon Alice’s body due to Sean’s words. She had a pensive expression now too, being unsure of how to answer and all. Again, Rain knew why.

She could easily just forget about the lessons she wanted to give him and head back to the utilities aisle, but like she’d told him, she didn’t want anyone’s death on her conscience. Her indifferent and cold outlook was just a charade; she was warm deep down. If he had really been the one in the car Sean had been in, she would not have abandoned him.

And that brought up the second option Rain felt was running through Alice’s mind: ‘Have Sean sit down here.’ But… they were too close to J, and she was afraid of the Jaguar’s unpredictability. This was where he had to reassure her.

“There’s a lotta space here for him to sit,” Rain said, tapping the floor beside him. Alice narrowed her eyes at him, her gaze drifting to J for a moment. “We’re going to be traveling together, why the cautiousness towards your to-be traveling partner?” Rain turned to Sean. “Are you afraid of this cute, sleeping large cat, huh, Sean?”

The boy shook his head with a smile. “No.”

Rain looked at Alice next whose neck had visibly stiffened. “She doesn’t bite,” he said. Then added, “At least humans.”

Alice turned to Sean, who was staring at her in anticipation with widened eyes, then at Rain, who was smiling smugly, and at last the sleeping Jaguar. Then after a long, low sigh as her chin lowered slightly to her chest, she nodded.

Jackpot…

Rain exhaled a puff of smoke out of his nose as Sean gave a big yelp of “Thanks” to Alice, and rushed to Rain’s side.

“You can sit too, you know?” Rain added, but as he knew already, that attempt of his would definitely end in failure.

“I’m fine. Let’s just get this over with.” Of course. “As you said, it is unusual. The way it is, it feels like more than half of humanity is still trapped with the pods. But that is not the case.”

Rain’s eyebrows squished as his heart seemed to stop beating for a second there. He could perceive the direction this was headed, and he couldn’t believe it. “You can’t be serious.”

Alice took a moment to close her eyes and breathe in deeply. “I am. The Faction Leader of the GEF was among the first batch of humans to be released from the pod, and in the last five years he has been gathering the data. This is our world now, and nothing less than seventy percent of humanity is gone. Those pods do not let everyone out. Most vanished with them, off the face of the earth; not even animals and insects were spared. We, and whatever few may or may not be able to make it out of the pods, are what’s left.”

The body heat that served as a testament to Rain’s life force suddenly spiraled out of control, almost to the point that he felt as though he would soon catch on fire. Tears grew beneath his eyelids and his body shivered.

It was not because half of humanity was gone. No. No. It was because the probability of him finding his family had been nudged so far down the probability scale that he felt like he had been tied to a rock and was dumped into a shark-infested ocean.

No. He would not lose hope. His memories had been taken from him, he would not let whatever had happened to this world take away the only thing he had left. No way in hell.

Rain drew a deep breath in, calmed himself, and forced a smile—a fake, despondent smile that even Alice could see was nothing but a thin arc drawn across a faceless mask.

Her indifferent expression changed into one of thoughtfulness. He had mentioned going home, after all, now she was telling him that whatever he was searching for there was long gone. It was only normal that she looked at him with that expression of sympathy.

Although, she didn’t need to. He didn’t need it. They were alive—obviously. There was no way they were dead, killed by the pods.

“Understood,” Rain said immediately. His goal? To change the subject back to what was important—to what would not make him question the survival of his family. “So, what’s a Benefactor?”