Alonso grabbed his sword and began moving along the beach, putting some distance between himself and Abhijit.
As he ran, nostalgic thoughts started to flood his mind. Before he lost his leg in the accident, he used to enjoy running at least once a week. He would take off in a random direction, making random turns until he was too tired to continue, then catch a bus back home. It was a simple, somewhat aimless hobby, and while he wasn’t always consistent—sometimes skipping a week or two—he had always enjoyed it.
Now, running down the beach with the setting sun casting long shadows across the sand, he felt that same simple joy again. The rhythmic sound of waves crashing nearby, the cool breeze on his skin, and the vast expanse of the horizon reminded him of the world beyond screens and machines. No phones, no computers—just the world as it is. He liked it.
He glanced down at his now perfectly recovered leg. Perhaps not everything in this damn hell is bad.
So he kept running, more than he had originally intended, and with his enhanced physical abilities, he reckoned his casual pace was comparable to that of an Olympic sprinter. The sheer speed and strength he now possessed were exhilarating in a way he couldn't deny.
Running this fast, with the breeze hitting hard on his face, he felt... he felt free. Free, perhaps for the first time since that day when he lost almost everything.
He ran. He continued running without stopping. He let go of everything—the trials, the worms, Abhijit, even his EM training. For now, it was just him and the open beach, the rhythm of his footsteps, and the endless horizon. He let everything else fade away.
The wind whipped against his face, the sound of the waves crashing in his ears. There was something primal, almost liberating, about the speed, about pushing his body to its limits. The deeper he went into this feeling, the more the world around him seemed to blur into insignificance.
Without thinking, Alonso threw his head back and shouted at the sky, a raw, almost wild sound that echoed across the empty beach. He wasn’t even sure why he did it—maybe it was the madness of the situation, or maybe it was just the sheer exhilaration of feeling alive in a place designed to test him at every turn.
The shout turned into laughter, a mad, uncontrollable laugh that burst out of him, fueled by the surge of adrenaline and the absurdity of it all.
He kept laughing, the sound blending with the roar of the ocean, until he felt the weight of his own voice fading, leaving him breathless but oddly content. For a moment, everything felt simple. He was just a man running down a beach.
But as the sun dipped lower on the horizon, casting long shadows across the sand, his eyes caught something far ahead—a flicker of movement that disrupted the solitude. A figure, distant and barely visible, standing on the beach, facing the sea.
His laughter faded, replaced by a cautious curiosity. He slowed his pace, the freedom he had felt moments before now giving way to the cold reality of the situation.
It was hard to catch any details from this distance, but he noticed the subtle movement that drew his attention—the flutter of hair and clothing stirred by the night breeze.
He paused, staring at the figure. For some reason, there was something compelling, almost peaceful, about this person standing still, simply gazing out at the sea with the setting sun as a backdrop.
Alonso stood there for a moment, torn between curiosity and a strange urge to respect the solitude of the person ahead. A part of him wondered if he should just turn around and leave them alone—after all, it wasn’t his business, and the peace of the moment felt almost sacred.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
But something kept him rooted to the spot. Maybe it was curiosity, or maybe it was something deeper, an inexplicable pull that urged him to approach. Without fully understanding why, he found himself taking a step forward, then another, until he was slowly walking in that direction.
As he moved closer, the details began to sharpen—the gentle sway of the person’s hair in the breeze, the way their silhouette blended with the fading light. The closer he got, the more he felt that there was something… different.
He kept walking until he finally began to make out the features of the person standing on the beach. It was a woman, probably around his age, with mid-length hair that moved gently in the breeze. Her posture was relaxed yet attentive, as if she was both lost in thought and acutely aware of her surroundings.
Just as he took another step forward, the woman turned, sensing his presence from afar. Her gaze locked onto him, and for a moment, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of them. Alonso found himself unable to look away. There was something in her eyes—depth, clarity, and an unspoken intensity—that struck him like a wave crashing against the shore.
It wasn’t fear, nor was it attraction in the conventional sense. It was as if, in that single glance, she had reached into the core of him, pulling him into a silent understanding that he couldn’t quite grasp. He felt exposed, as if every barrier he had put up was suddenly transparent, and she could see right through him.
The moment lingered, and Alonso realized he was holding his breath, his heart pounding in his chest, overwhelmed by a feeling he couldn’t quite explain.
They stood there, locked in each other’s gaze, as if the world around them had faded into nothingness.
She didn’t move at first, just watched him with those piercing eyes, as if weighing something in her mind. Alonso found himself rooted to the spot, caught in the intensity of the moment.
Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, the woman crouched down, her eyes never leaving his. She reached for a sword lying on the sand beside her, her movements fluid and unhurried. As she stood up, she began walking toward him, her steps calm and measured.
Alonso’s heart quickened, but he didn’t move. He watched her approach, the distance between them shrinking with every step. There was no threat in her demeanor, only purpose. The closer she got, the more he felt a strange sense of anticipation.
As she closed the final few steps, stopping a few meters from him, her gaze softened slightly, though the intensity in her eyes remained. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the sound of the waves the only thing breaking the silence.
Then, finally, she broke the quiet, her voice calm and clear. “My name is Chiara.”
Alonso snapped out of his trance, the sound of her voice grounding him in the present. He shook his head slightly, surprised not only by the plain and straightforward introduction but also by how fluent her English was. “Alonso,” he replied, his voice steady but still laced with the confusion he felt.
Chiara nodded, acknowledging his response, but her gaze remained sharp, assessing him. “Alonso,” she repeated, as if testing the name on her tongue, then added, “I don’t trust easily here, and I’m guessing you don’t either.”
Alonso couldn’t argue with that. “Trust is hard to come by in a place like this.”
She seemed to accept that, her expression softening just a fraction. “We’re all stuck in the same situation, but that doesn’t mean we’re on the same side. I don’t know what you’re after, and I’m not sure if I want to know, but if you plan on surviving here, you’d do well to keep to yourself.”
Alonso nodded, understanding the warning in her words. “Fair enough,” he said, his tone measured. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He offered a slight smile, more out of courtesy than anything else, and turned to head back the way he had come.
But as he began to walk away, her voice stopped him. “That said…” Chiara’s voice was calm but carried a note of vulnerability. “I could use a conversation tonight, perhaps from a safe distance, if you don’t mind.”
Alonso paused, surprised by the request. He glanced over his shoulder and saw her standing there, her expression neutral but her eyes holding something softer, something almost human amidst the wariness. He considered her words for a moment, weighing the risks, but something about her request felt genuine. After all, in a place like this, even a little companionship could make a difference.
“Sure,” he replied, turning fully to face her again. “I wouldn’t mind that.”