The arrival of the medic and rescue team was met with grateful eyes and sobbing faces. It was as if their breaths had been held for so long and now, was at last allowed to be exhaled in relief.

Rina was already busy with the rest of the medical team that Tira had personally delivered earlier.

So, when the rest of the team who had been shuttled over with bikes finally parked, Raphael immediately jumped into the fray and took over field command; allowing the transport team to rush back with the bikes to shuttle over with more people and supplies.

Henry had stayed back to clear the path with his men. They moved cars out of the way, clearing the road so that the next time the transportation arrived they could proceed more smoothly; whereas Lydia had told her own people who could drive motorcycles to take the handles and ferried over the needed personnel, only talking people with her back to the uni to drop over the news and send the doctors they had on their side.

Still, even with the combined effort of more than hundreds of people, they did not manage to clear the bodies before the night had dyed the sky dark blue.

A mountain of lifeless limbs and stiff faces; all of which had been the handiwork of a mere small gang that couldn't wait to see whether the situation would return to normal or not.

Not because they could not afford the patience, but because they just decided to not spend it.

Choices, that was all it was.

Running her eyes along all the shop windows, she saw the reflection of the crowds moving about all around her, people whom she could and couldn't put a name to. Some, under Belinda's order, were bringing out medical supplies which would immediately get used. Some were tasked to carry clothes and towels to cover the bodies of those who had made it through.

No one of those rescued people had been left unaffected.

Scarred, damaged, and in some cases; insane. Their tears were the only thing that remained of their humanity. The sobs of these young women had stained the ground with salt and grief were a painful reminder of their situation.

Soon, another dawn would come. The sun would rise again and reset the clock for another day to be spent in indecision. Another day for clouds of guilt to hang above their heads.

She had no idea what to make of the town, this corner of their proud capital, which had lasted no more than a week in its dignity.

Dias kneeled by yet another body, touching their skin with his gloved hand, his eyes unblinking as the body turned into dust under his watch. The white dust gathered into a small, neat pile—barely a handful. There wasn't even enough left of the child to fill the jars Felicia had molded off the ground.

Felicia had worked tirelessly to transform asphalt into an earthen vessel under her careful touch, her fingers tracing the outside where the little girl's face would be etched on, a portrait that became clearer with each urn that she completed.

The burial ground was another half-kilo outside the barrier. Merely another half kilo away. But they couldn't risk it. Not when they could still hear the ceaseless howl that always came whenever the sun fell.

Hence the jars.

Hence, the portraits.

There was no name for the jar she was making, no name for almost every other jar either. Just a face and an untold story. Stored away in earthen kilns until claimed by those who lived or by the passage of time.

Tira walked towards the hardworking duo, careful not to startle them, greeting them with an offering of towels in each hand. "When did you arrive?"

"Ah, just a moment ago." Dias gathered the dust with both of his hands, then carefully slid every grain of the person’s remains into the jar. It wasn’t until he finished transporting all of the remains into the miniature coffin that his eyes found hers, they were slightly aglow despite the shade cast over them by the moonless sky. "Are you okay?"

"Unsure." She answered, handing a towel to him first. His gloves weren’t even stained by a single speck of dirt, nor had he broken a sweat, but he took the towel and fashioned it into a hair tie to keep loose strands from flailing about from the sudden wind.

She offered the other towel to Felicia, along with a pack of wet wipes for her hands in particular. "And you? How are you holding up?"

"Ah, I’m getting used to it." Felicia smiled as she used the wet wipes first, then the towel to wipe her sweaty face. "It's not... great... But I’m still holding on. Do you know that Ma’am Hartati offers free counseling if you’re feeling a bit down? I talked to her yesterday, and it helped."

Tira half-heartedly changed the topic to ease the mood, "I’ll keep that in mind. Do you need anything else? Water?"

"I got ‘em." Felicia took a bottle of water out of the back pocket of her jeans and proceeded to chug it down. She must have been thirsty to down half a liter of water in one sitting just like that.

"I’ll get you something warm then. Tea?" She offered, glancing over to Dias to include him in the offer as well.

His eyes showed his eagerness to go with her, but all that he said was, "Tea would be great, thank you."

She nodded and turned around to look for the emergency kitchen. It wasn’t a hard task as the joint effort among the three education facilities had somehow procured enough tents from their last festival to be used for the various tasks they needed now. Mainly, as the medical station and the emergency kitchen.

Alongside the busy bee medical team, a divergent cast of chefs and cooks worked with diligence to make sure all those victims got to eat and recovered after their treatment. Those who couldn't eat by themselves were served lighter food, so as not to agitate their starving stomachs any more than it already surely was.

The members of the Red Cross busily moved around, now joined with actual medical professionals—or what was left of them—treating those who were yet to become conscious. They did what they could and tried their best to not lose a single patient.

But sometimes, even after the shed tears and their best attempts, fate still dictated otherwise.

Tira had noticed that there were fewer of them around—that only a handful of familiar faces of her club mates that she could point out in the passing crowd. Perhaps having quit for the night, or didn't come at all in the first place, she couldn't tell.

She tried to offer her help to alleviate the strain before being told to sit and recover first.

In truth, she felt no exhaustion whatsoever for running back and forth fetching the first responder team. If anything, the more Tira used her power, the more invigorated she felt.

But a stern-faced Rina was definitely not someone she wanted to cross, nor did she wish to get an earful from Raphael and Belinda for pushing herself too hard, even if that wasn't the case.

The three of them were crucial to the smooth running of the relief effort, and thus, to give the seniors some peace of mind, she moved aside as not to get in their way.

As she walked by the emergency tent, Tira thought she saw Ayunda’s face for the first time in days, moving out smaller boxes under Rizal’s command. Sweating and exhausted, but with a glimmer of life in her eyes.

She waved at the other senior Red Cross members to cheer them from afar when they noticed her, then finally, went ahead and looked around for the tea station.

Easily, Tira found a chubby-cheeked boy manning the water dispenser. She glided over the bustling area of the parking lot and greeted him with relief. "Do you have warm water? Tea?"

"Of course we have tea! There’s literally a metric ton of it!" Ginan grumbled with red-faced fury. He must have been left here to stew for a long time if he was this annoyed. "There are other drinks available; if you prefer, I can make it iced for you."

Although his anger felt like it had come out of nowhere, she didn’t have to wonder too long for the reason why. Knowing he was the number one gossip man, the boy must have found out about the cause of this situation not too long after the first Red Cross team moved out.

Still, sulking wouldn't help him, so she leaned against the tent support and tried to redirect the conversation to questioning his new powers instead.

"You’re able to make me iced drinks?"

"Yeah. I was blessed by Rina." He poured himself a cup of water, freezing it in the paper container at a speed visible to the naked eye. "Temperature control is what I got… I think. But it only works on water. Why didn't I get stealth or something…"

"Considering you’re already good enough even without it. I don't think the universe wants you to have powers that allow you to slip through reality." She commented bluntly.

The water melted again, then slowly let out a vapor while it begun to heat to its boiling point; producing small bubbles.

"Hhh, I suppose you're right…" Ginan pointed at the side table, and she noted that his pout had receded slightly into a tight lipped line. "Take your pick. The sugar is in the yellow sachets."

She took two bags of a tea brand she had tried before and the sugar, inspecting them, fully aware that her eyebrows had risen involuntarily from reading the labels. "Aren’t these diet sugars?"

"They all taste the same in that amount." He put the boiling cup of water on the table and filled another from the dispenser then resumed his boiling routine.

"So you’ve tried it before."

Ginan nodded with confidence. "Of course I have! Did you think this lovely figure happened by itself?"

He gestured to his pudgy belly and thighs, tapping at them so the fat jiggled from the light force and wobbled on the spot. "Hell naw, it's all effort!"

Amused, she let her lips relax into the smallest curl while she dunked the first tea bag into the cup then stirred in the sugar, perfectly in time for the second cup of water to be handed over to her. "I don't doubt you. But, how about trying out other liquids? Maybe it's not limited to just water."

"Maybe? I'll give it a go when I'm free." Ginan shrugged in his usual noncommittal fashion.

Tea ready and sweetened, she carried the two glasses in each hand, being careful not to burn her hand from spilling the steaming, boiling liquid. "Thank you for the hot water, go to bed soon."

"I will!"

He probably wouldn’t, the night owl that he was, but she nodded anyway as if she believed him and walked away.

Some time in between her chat at the water dispenser and making tea, someone had made and lit a fire pit. The orange glow illuminated the vastly grim parking lot though it was not the only source of light they had.

A few of the cars already had their lights turned to the maximum brightness to help the relief effort going on; perhaps the courtesy of some car-jacking pros they had in their midst.

The light brought relief as the number of pained cries gradually decreased and softened by the hour.

Dias and Felicia were still cremating the bodies—the last of them, she hoped. Filled jars were stacked onto a makeshift shelf made out of the earth and stood at one side of the lot.

The brick texture was lopsided at times, but its appearance wasn't what made it important. It held the vessels—too many black porcelains—whose contents were lives that had died in an insignificant act committed by careless masses drunk on power.

These jars would be brought back next to the emptied lot by their school. Nearby a building already decimated and demolished before the apocalypse had hit. That abandoned place had been scheduled to be a parking lot for another rental house, but they wouldn't need that anymore, so now the area was to be transformed into a final stop for those who died restless and tortured.

Donny walked out of the grand supermarket with Lydia and Henry in tow, talking in hushed tones and grim faces.

From what she could catch at a distance, it appeared that Wahdi hadn't lied about the state of their fresh produce aisle not being able to survive much longer.

But that was all she managed to gather before her attention returned once again to what she had dubbed the mourning spot.

She joined the cremation duo with drinks in hand, now warm enough to be drunk directly and gave an acknowledging nod to Hannah who passed by as both her hands were occupied. She waited, until they were done with the last body and kept her silence a little longer, in honor of those that had returned to dust and earth.

Felicia had closed her eyes and folded hands onto her chest as she prayed, perhaps out of habit or for ritualistic purposes; it didn't matter at the moment.

And Dias… Dias stood there in silence. Even without any words shared between them, she could sense the sorrow he emitted; mourning the strangers he hadn't even known of before tonight with every bit of grace and respect that they deserved.

Despite the ethereal glow of his eyes and hair refracting light emitted from the cars, he looked like he... belonged. Not as a demigod, but as mortal among mortals.

Their moment of silence was not too short nor too long. It was just enough for them to let the grief sink and flow out to color the air with regret.

She called them out before that gray color could linger and dye them both in return. "Your tea."

They took the cups with thanks and sipped. Felicia’s eyes started to water as she took another sip, her lips quivering with emotions that she couldn't voice.

Tira kept her silence as the senior wiped her tears with the towel, now hanging by her neck, looking no less damp than her clothes.

The fabric on both pieces of clothing she had on her were dripping wet, as if Felicia had taken a splash of water right from the top of her head.

She couldn't fathom the reason for her senior's extreme temperature resistance but she had some ideas as to why. She decided to keep them all to herself and only brought up a reminder. "Senior, do you want to have a change of clothes?"

"Ah? Oh! Right!" Felicia was stunned out of her shock and now noted the state of her clothing, looking around her torso with fascination that brought a little bit of light into her eyes. "Yeah, this is bad, I'll go change... Thanks for the tea, babe!"

Even while running away with her cup towards where the supermarket door was located, Felicia had acted no less chipper than she usually was, but Tira could still hear the stifled sobs that came from her senior's lips as she escaped.

What a strong girl. It made her want to wish for the unattainable.

"I have no idea how she still has that much energy so close to midnight," Tira said instead of pointing out the obvious, distracting herself from another dead-end thought. "Even I'm tired just looking at her go."

"You talk like you’re millennia old, and not in your teens." Dias chuckled by her side then gave her a questioning glance after another sip of tea, his tone genuinely confused and concerned, for some reason. "Babe?"

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"You’re starting to rub off on me, more likely," Tira explained, rubbing her bare arms as another cold gust suddenly passed by her sides. "Rina said that she calls everyone babe, even Armand. Sooner than later, she might call you babe too-"

A warm heat enveloped her back, covering her in the scent of wood and mint. Heavy was the weight that sat on her shoulders as Dias’ suit jacket settled on her frame.

"Hmm, I suppose that’s fine if she meant that platonically." Dias walked off to the campfire site, acting nonchalant as his hair still occasionally floated when brushed by the wind.

"...Thanks." She tightened the suit jacket, letting the furnace-like warmth seep into her skin to combat the cold further. "What perfume do you use, by the way? It smells nice."

Tira put one of her arms through the sleeves and sniffed the cuffs, wondering how it was still fragrant even after being through a very sweltering day and windy night.

She couldn't have gone through the man's drawer and sniffed the contents, so this was her first encounter with Dias' royal-quality wardrobe. Since the smell had remained this strong, could it be a concentrate, perhaps?

"Or is it your soap? Mind if I share some? I like the scent… Well?"

She looked up, expecting to hear an answer, but instead saw Dias sporting a fierce blush that had erupted on himself. His entire face was so red that it was obvious to see, even under the low light as his red face was highlighted by his glittering silver freckles.

… Had he caught a fever? Now that she thought about it, Tira never did ask if demigods could get sick or not. "Are you okay?"

"E-Yeah, I'm fine! Sure!!" He covered his mouth with gloved hands and looked into the fire as if it was the next best thing in the world. "I’ll show you the… products, when we get back." He whispered.

"Alright."

Since she had already gotten used to his weird antics, Tira left it at that and joined his gaze into the pit.

She observed the fire alongside him, watching the embers rise up and up, as high as it could manage before they flickered away.

Trash, rotten wood, and bloodied clothes were all burned under its intense heat.

All equally enduring until, finally, the fire won and all that was left were their ashes.

People were already gathered around its warmth; those who had their bellies filled and were covered with blankets; their shaking figures not caused by the cold but by other things she could imagine but rather not name.

From fire, came the ashes, and from what remained, something new was born.

Everyone had changed since the day they were abandoned by their creator.

The moon never pierced through the darkened clouds hanging over them.

She had no idea if those who had changed their hearts before tonight were blessed or cursed.

----------------------------------------

The cleanup lasted until one in the morning and was still going by the time Dias had finished his drink. There were just so many things to do that even if they had to borrow a cat's paw, they couldn't dream of finishing the work left before dawn broke.

At the very least, most of the patients had been looked over, treated and fed. Now they were all at rest on the ground floor of the supermarket, which had turned barren once all the unnecessary items and props had been removed.

While the majority of the helpers returned to their own homes or temporary abodes, Dias had chosen to stay once he'd heard that a few of the representatives would be staying behind.

Rina, Donny, and Henry had decided to occupy the mattress section of the supermarket's furniture store on the second floor and allocated a spot for Dias to sleep in, which he did immediately the minute his head hit the mattress.

However, while deceptively appearing to be in deep sleep at the moment, she could sense that Dias was currently powering the entire supermarket's electricity to help everyone else who had to sort through anything that was left inside the supermarket's food section and allocate their resources.

Meat and most dairy products had either been consumed, stored in compact freezers, or thrown away. The gang hadn't managed to smoke much of the meat before the supermarket’s emergency generator kicked the bucket approximately a few hours ago, judging from the frost that was still apparent at the sides of the freezers.

The full tank of fuel indicated that it wasn’t the lack of petrol that stopped the machine from functioning, but a mechanism that had broken down somewhere in between its gears. And without an expert to fix it, the thing was as good as an oversized garbage.

No wonder Wahdi had been getting impatient during the meeting to the point he ordered to pull out a gun. Losing electricity so suddenly must have been a critical hit to their planning.

Following that, the remaining vegetables, fruits, and othe fresh produce had to be divided into different sorting methods based on whether they could still be eaten or harvested for their seeds.

Someone from B uni called Mustafa claimed to have the know-how to minimize their loss of food, and without anyone else coming up with a better idea of initiative to lead, they had placed him in charge of the sorting.

Ginan had volunteered as his assistant the moment he had been freed from water dispenser duty. It seemed that they had somehow enrolled in the same apocalypse survival class? The two hit it off almost immediately when Mustafa had mentioned TheoryMan and showed off his bracelet.

Whether that was shorthand or a code, the mention of it was enough to bring the chubby-cheeked boy to his side and they had become inseparable since, skipping together happily towards the fresh food aisle.

Donny swung by at two-thirty in the morning as a sign that they'd finished or made progress in sorting for the time being. His outfit had already changed from the school uniform into the most generic-looking shirt and pants that he had probably taken from the clothing section.

He opened his mouth to say something to her, "I—"

And stopped when he noticed Dias was asleep, then lowered his volume down to a whisper, "Sorry, I have something to ask of you."

"Do I have to move?" She kept her voice at normal volume, feeling no response from the sleeping man on the bed.

If Dias were to wake up, he would have done so when the students had been bustling around with their clanging buckets and chairs as they ran around causing ruckus two hours ago. "He’s not going to wake up anytime soon."

Donny nodded, his voice rising back to a normal volume and picked up where he left off, "No, I’m just wondering about your opinion on a certain University student, the one in a red and white Steelios bomber jacket."

She didn't have to think long about who he was possibly referring to, but was curious as to why.

"Did he come here as well?"

"He returned with Gunawan’s group to fetch for help after you left again with the medics." Donny dragged and sat on the display chair, left leg on his knees and hands folded then hunched forward. "Rina told us that guy was the loudest to argue with Henry before the oath ceremony and that he was nothing short of nasty when Henry suggested he send help for the relief effort here. I don’t think he trusts us as loud and far as he can yell and frankly, I don’t trust him either."

"Is Henry aware?" She wanted to know how Donny had been dealing with this new information and saw him nod.

"He does, but Gunawan was the one who told us just now in private, about Purnama." She noted the name while Donny continued his briefing. "That guy has been toe to toe with Henry since the moment he tried to take over leadership and has tried convincing the remaining professors to not agree with the meeting getting postponed the first time."

"They have fewer survivors than we thought over there, or at least fewer than the number of able-bodied people that they implied they had previously."

Donny’s lips were pursed tightly, his brows drawn low as his eyes filled with various thoughts. "Henry won the persuasion by an inch when the campus’ electricity blacked out on day two. They had to decide whether to run the generator for the lights and heat, or for the medical equipment for those who were still unconscious and in critical conditions."

"Brutal." She commented dryly, leaning against the headboard to digest the news. "Why did that incident matter?"

"I’m guessing he tried to appeal by saying they should save as many as they could and use the electricity for the patients?" Sir Saputra chimed from the opposite bed, plucking off the random magazine that had covered his face.

Donny’s eyes widened as he glanced over to the source of the voice, surprise sharp on his face.

Though it didn't take him aback for long as he composed himself enough to continue his report. "That was exactly what happened. When we suggested the date for the second meeting this time, he used the patient's survival rate as an excuse for us to hurry up. The fact that one of the said patients passed away in her sleep was what pushed our side to fight, so they have to mediate the meeting on our grounds."

A patient died right after the favor did not land on his side. Were it to happen on a normal day or in another circumstance, nobody would have thought of how fishy that was. But, with the way the narrative was being framed...

"Was the dead patient so badly injured or on a low hierarchy that, even if she were to make it, she couldn’t do anything anyway?" Sir Saputra asked again before he yawned.

"Yes… Just as you said, the victim was likely to become disabled even if she woke up." Donny looked a little put off as he answered, sitting upright slowly and surely as he tried to inquire, "Did Gunawan tell you about this?"

"No." The old teacher sat up and used the pillow to support his back, huffed out a light groan as his bones audibly creaked and joints popped loudly. "I still have it in me, it seems."

The tired-faced student president looked like he wanted to refute the words that Sir Saputra had just muttered, as if on instinct, but he stopped in time and visibly exerted effort to change his retort into a question. "Then, from one elder advising a younger person, what do you think he’s doing this for?"

"Good question. Let’s see, if I were that man..."

Tira thought along with the old teacher as he hummed, crossing his hands as his nearly white half head hung low in thoughts. She only got so far as a single thought before her low mental energy urged her to leave it for another time.

"I’d probably find another instance to make sure our side appeared untrustworthy."

"Our side?" Donny probed for more explanation.

The old teacher nodded. "We have been acting pretty transparent so far, telling everyone we met about the doomsday matter and the reasoning behind it, even to the extent of the touchstones. Do any of you remember what he had said about them?" He gestured towards the 'sleeping' Dias with his chin.

Donny looked helpless enough that she decided to assist and recited the exact words that Dias had used during the recent meeting, since they always changed depending on who he was talking to.

"He said: ‘As I was the one who activated the stone, I was granted ownership over the area it covers.’"

"Good! And later, when we’re talking about exiling the gang members?"

Tira made sure the wording was exactly the same as when he said it before she answered. "He said specifically that he: ‘Needs to have the authority over five generals before I’m allowed to implement any rules in my domain.’ -end quote."

Sir Saputra grinned devilishly. "And this Purnama guy heard all of that loud and clear."

"Now, consider this: Suppose you want to take control of the touchstone and the simplest way to do so is to launch a smear campaign against us; and you attended that meeting this afternoon..." the old man crossed his arms with the typical teacher-testing-the-student gaze and asked,

"What would you do with the new information you discovered from the meeting?"

Even though he still couldn't see the connection, Donny gave the question a careful once-over before he voiced his conclusion aloud.

"If I were him," Donny pinched his chin between his thumb and forefinger. He talked slowly and deliberately, as if he was chewing on every syllable possible to make sure they were correct. "-and this is based on the fact that this smear campaign is absolutely necessary. On top of that, I want it to succeed. I'd be publicizing the fact that we executed about thirty or so people just to make the rest of the survivors lose trust in us."

"Try thinking worse." Sir Saputra egged the boy on.

"I’d be telling anyone who would listen that we killed other people we branded criminals without any proof whatsoever?"

"Go lower."

"The gang, no," Donny revised the wording when he caught on to the flaw, "The supermarket owner and his men were attacking out of self-defense because we refused to help their sick and injured? And that we’ve refused them medicine for selfish reasons."

"That’s low enough, I suppose." Sir Saputra nodded to himself. "We can always go lower, but if you do that, it will be harder for you to reach the surface level again.

"If I were him, I’d go back even further than that, adding that we're withholding kids from their parents and beating one of them to death."

"WHat?" Donny caught himself before he yelled loud enough to catch others' attention. Sir Saputra simply chuckled at the reaction he got, allowing Donny to calm down before he repeated his words in a softer tone, "What?!"

The old teacher smiled as he pushed himself up the bed to sit further upright and began to explain his reasoning. "You know we have—we had custody of one of the gang members already the day before. We had even told them as much over lunch. If Purnama's goal is to seize control over the barrier, that’s enough ammunition for him to use and twist for approval, don’t you think so? A parent, about to pick up his kid, finally, after a hard time finding her… was suddenly attacked and detained in the middle of the night.

"A day later, he was declared missing.

"It’s not like there was any other witness available, like a possible member of the gang, who, if the kicking worked properly, should now be scattered around as fertilizer. And while we held a trial for the gang members, nobody outside of that room knew whether it was true or not that we had actually executed dangerous gang members or if Armand was just saying so because we wanted the possible threat to disappear.

"What the masses don't know, they will make up stories for. And you know our people love drama more than their own survival."

The old teacher ended his conclusion with a lazy shrug.

Donny almost sagged in his seat, his temples sweating despite the cool AC blasting directly on his face. He paled over the implication presented to him. "If this proves to be true, you’d make quite a formidable ally to have, sir."

"As long as you’d have me around, I’d be happy to help you youngins." The old man sighed a deep, heavy, and very tired exhale that blended with a yawn. "Let’s hope that I was just overthinking and nothing bad ever came out of it, and..."

Sir Saputra shifted his focus onto her. "Be careful and watch your back, lass."

Tira nodded. Though she was very much aware of the malice around, she appreciated the reminder nonetheless. Her distant and nonsensical behavior at that meeting and afterward was to account for that possible threat. She was unsure how many ears Purnama had moving around and had been keeping her guard up at all times to prepare for the worst-case scenario.

She briefly thought about whether Purnama was connected with the gang. She marked the possibility of the question with a red flag in her mind, and corked it for later. Right now, she was on guard duty, and that meant less of being inside her head and more of looking out.

Donny ended up talking a little more, absorbing advice from Sir Saputra on how to handle the situation with the other captains and asking Tira to call for his assistance if she needed to before he finally left to retire for the day. The old teacher had also gone back to sleep right after, his snoring filled the exhibition room, though it didn't wake up anyone else on the other floor.

----------------------------------------

Dias 'woke up' a couple of hours later, around the same time as he had yesterday and the first thing he did after he opened his eyes was to take her hand into his own. Channeling his energy through their gloves-to-skin contact, the man smiled sleepily, "Remind me to teach you how to absorb energy by yourself soon."

"Okay."

She played along and didn't mention that it was among the knowledge he had given her before. Letting her tense mind relax under the assault of a comforting flow that ran under her skin and also vanquished the sleep that was beginning to weigh her down. "And thank you for the refill. Did you hear anything while you were under?"

"You're welcome. And no, what did I miss?" Dias asked, pulling his hand away to prop himself up on the bed.

Tira gave him a heavily edited version of Donny’s discussion, emphasizing the important points that they were heavily suspecting Purnama and the following conjecture as well as the advice that Sir Saputra had given the third year senior.

"Interesting," Dias nodded and immediately went to the meat of the matter, "and what are your thoughts on the matter?"

"I think he was involved with the gang and knew that someone from our side took down the fatty." Was the conclusion that Tira arrived at. After an all-night consideration of the facts that she did not voice, and quite a lot of information digesting, she delivered her honest thought to Dias without cutting anything out.

"If his motive was truly to control the touchstone by having you kicked out, it’s not far from the possibility that the fatty was a set-up. He didn't die when I beat him up, thanks to you. He didn't do anything the day after when he was left alone for a long period.

"But it was only after the entourage showed up that he killed himself? That's too suspicious to gloss over." She shrugged.

"You're right." He shifted his seat, closer to the edge where she was standing then said, "Surely that's not all there is? That's hardly enough to warrant a personality change over a haircut, no?"

Tira had stopped being shocked over his too-on-the-nose observation. She couldn't tell when he had noticed, or why he hadn't called her out sooner.

Nevertheless, since he knew of the card in her hands, she would reveal it and end the guessing game early. "I've thought of the encounter as a trap but it was a good moment to pull people onto your side, so I let it pass.

"The haircut was just a coincidence, since I can't be in good conscience to allow myself to be in a less than optimal form for a fight. But, I saw the window of opportunity and used it when I could.

"However," she tilted her head upward to stretch the tension in her neck, "it appears I wasn’t clever enough, seeing that Purnama has already suspected us from the moment he entered the school complex, and later narrowed it down to you because of your reveal. I just can’t tell if his suspicions are for the reason I want him to think of or not."

Dias sighed, cracking his knuckles as he stood up to leave the furniture gallery. "Why not?"

"Because I couldn't get a good read on him. I only suspected him because he slipped once, and even then, that slip would have been hard to detect if not for your gracefully gifted power."

Tira easily admitted her flaw as she followed his steps, eyes darting around to make sure the area they were walking in was quiet without any conscious company aside from the patrolling members of security.

Once they entered a quiet hallway, she asked, "What was the criteria for being a gang member in the first place? Your wording of the rule was so vague, I’m curious if it was intentional or was that just how the rules are supposed to be worded?"

Two ruby-like eyes stared right into her as his voice rang in her mind. ‘It was intentional. I left it vague, so in the end, the authority on deciding the criteria still ended up in my hands.’

She tried to mimic the sensation carefully, morphing her mental state to match the feedback she was receiving,.and channeling her power back in form of an imaginary speech. ‘Mind if I ask what the criteria actually is?’

Then, with her voice, she asked out loud, "Well?"

Dias giggled, his chuckles turning giddy until he was put together enough to answer, "It did work, don’t worry, I heard you loud and clear."

‘As for the criteria, I specifically put those who had been acknowledged by the boss of said gang and his henchmen as members of the gang, which will include himself.’

'Approval-based criteria, huh… That covers a wide range of people.' She continued to follow with her brainflow, now in pain as it tried to split itself into five simultaneous tasks.

‘But those who were merely associated with the gang previously, whether by force or from willingness, would have slipped by. Same with former, retired, or expelled members.’ Tira reasoned on the wording the demigod had used to describe his reasoning.

Dias nodded, confirming her guess. "Don’t pout, it's ruining your pretty face."

‘You think he had deeper ties to the gang than just being their field dog.’ He asked.

"I’m not pouting." She hissed, then closed her mouth so she didn't accidentally voice her thoughts out loud.

'If it was proven that Purnama has gang connections and the girl's death was linked to it, it's not an exaggeration to say that he had capabilities beyond that of a normal person to begin with, given that the murder and the bait were both sent with his knowledge, even if it was without his consent.'

"Tha-" Tira stopped, catching herself before the wrong words came out of the wrong channel. "Give me moment."

The amusement on Dias' face was obvious, but she ignored it and tried to concentrate again, as the fact that Dias made this looked easy had made her even more motivated to get it right.

While talking, they climbed down the escalator like it was a normal, stationary staircase. Dias had said before meditating that he had to pick and choose which part of the supermarket he wanted to supply power to, having to do it both here and back at school.

But still, it didn't distract her from knowing that this man was walking around without any problem while replying to her, and that the lamps all around them were still lit brightly was enough of a testament to how great his control over his power was.

And while there were certainly several people who knew of this information, no one else had witnessed it.

‘I cannot see the difference between voting en masse for an execution or for one to order the death of one man personally. It still ended with death, no matter what measures were taken.’ She answered with her mind voice.

Just a single, sleep-deprived soul who had to follow his energetic steps with much trouble of her own. Stumbling on her every steps and looking around dumbly like a newborn foal.

Still, she tried to walk forward nonetheless.

"To be filled with the capacity to end a life, to save it, and to create anew; those are what make your world so special for me."

He stepped out of the threshold of the door and welcomed the sky that was slowly dyed in color once more. A soft, chilling breeze came and passed by playfully. The earth was breathing even at this very moment and the demigod took a deep breath of his own as if to welcome himself back to the realm of the living.

"You talk of us as if we’re a mere commodity." She pointed it out with a stable, even voice.

"I apologize, was that rude?"

"Not really." Her eyes roamed the ground behind them, where sleeping bags and blankets were strewn around on the cold tiled floor.

Her focus shifted to the figures that were still drowning in their dreamlands, blanketed by the cold mist of an unforgiving morning. "We've been objectifying ourselves long before you arrived. I’m just... glad. Glad that you still see potential in us, despite all the bad that's flowing at the seams right in front of your eyes these past few days."

Outwardly, Dias said nothing. His lips curved upward into the smile that greeted the first ray of light of the sun. Eyes glittering from the glow that basked his figure in a light halo among the misty morning.

‘What can I say? I’m but a lovesick man.’

She stayed silent as well. There was nothing to be said. Nothing she could say that would be appropriate, to sully this moment with her unfeeling words would be inappropriate, after all.