The solar panel was installed on top of the building, in a more distant area from where the tarp covered the workbench, the beds, and also the couch Dante had found on his way back from the Reservoir. It was in good condition and could be carried with one hand. He let Marcus find a place for the new seat and handed him one of the power cables. The panel had a rather wide plug, and they were a bit confused about what to do, so Vick warned them.

They spent the entire afternoon connecting each cable in place and then went to the battery. The two of them took off their heavy clothing because of the sun and tried to link the wires that powered the lights.

Marcus held one of the exposed wires and got shocked. Dante pointed at him, laughing. The shooter cursed while making the plug gain two prongs, adjusting it carefully. As soon as he finished, Dante pushed the battery against two walls, securing it well.

"If it rains a lot, we’ll have to add another tarp on top," Dante said, taking a good look at the entire rooftop. "Would it be a good idea to put a sturdier roof here?"

"Clara likes this part without a roof. The other residents will want to come up here if they find out we have a safe roof." He tapped the cement lightly with his foot. "A lot of people living here aren’t good. Don’t expect applause for what you did, old man."

As if that was necessary. Dante hated applause.

"As long as they don’t touch our battery, everything will be fine." He leaned on it. "So, shall we see what it can do?"

Before Marcus could respond, voices and footsteps grew louder from a distance. Dante and Marcus saw a tall man with several others behind him, walking and drawing attention. The residents also got curious, climbing the stairs to understand what was happening.

Dante didn’t recognize those faces. Nor the reason they looked so irritated.

"Antton." Marcus walked over to the workbench and grabbed his two pistols. "You can stop right there, or I’ll shoot you, asshole."

The man raised his hand as soon as they stepped onto the building. His entire team was obedient, stopping together. His face wasn’t angry, nor sad—it was nervous. He was desperate.

"Marcus, why do you still hold so much resentment?" He touched his own chest, trying to appear charismatic, but it was nonexistent. "Clara and I had disagreements in the past, but I came today precisely to fix that. She left me in a bad spot last year, especially because she hid her food stash from us. And now, this."

He pointed at the battery.

"You had the guts to go to the Reservoir, proved yourselves superior to the creatures there, yet you still don’t see us as worthy of having this power source." He still tried to sound grandiose, making it even stranger. "Why do you insist on dictating what is right or wrong?"

"I don’t judge anything. You’re the one who thinks you own the city." Marcus clearly despised him by his aggressive tone. He immediately raised his hand, pointing the gun. "And let me make this clear—I won’t hesitate to blow your head off if you try anything up here."

Dante saw Antton’s smile. That’s exactly what he was waiting for.

"See?" He turned around, facing the residents who had climbed up. "A gun is pointed at a man who asks for the bare minimum. The Felroz are the enemies, yet he points the gun at me, only at me and my men. And what do they have? A battery. Something that could provide us with energy, give us a luxury we haven’t had since this city was abandoned. I ask you, people of Kappz, to listen to me. What do these men have that we can’t? What are they that we aren’t? Why do they get the greatest resource while we are left with nothing?"

Marcus grew even more irritated, gripping the trigger tighter. He was going to shoot, but seeing Antton’s men waiting for it, Dante understood his plan immediately.

"You want the battery?" Dante’s question was carried by the wind, stronger. "I don’t know your name, but I see that Clara and Marcus don’t like you or what you do. But you really want the battery, don’t you?"

"Of course I do, you idiot." Antton turned to him, laughing. "That thing behind you is more than enough to power the whole city, and you’re just wasting it on lights. What a joke."

"You have a point. But let me ask you, how are you going to connect it?"

Antton spread his arms as if it were obvious and pointed to the panel they had installed on the other side.

"That, those are solar panels," Dante explained. "Didn’t know the name, huh? Now tell me, how do you connect a solar panel to a battery without overloading it? How will you prevent the panel from burning out if you power the entire city at once? How will you know the lifespan of a battery if you don’t even know how to connect one?"

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"You question me, but you don’t have those answers yourself."

Dante laughed.

"You think Clara would have sent me into the Reservoir without knowing how a battery works?" Dante made a face. "How dumb do you have to be to think I’d face those creatures without at least making sure she knows what she’s doing? But what about you, little man? Do you know why I’m here right now? That question has an easy answer."

"Because you got lucky." Antton's response was firm. He truly believed that. "Facing all those creatures at once—who would believe you're capable of that?"

Dante walked past Marcus, pulling a cigar from his pocket, placing it in his mouth, and lighting it with a snap of his fingers.

"Then why don't you test my 'luck'?"

No one answered, not even Marcus. He had already lowered his weapon, listening to Dante.

"Oh, I hear that. That sound hanging in the air is silence." Dante laughed, thoroughly amused. "How many of you would have done what we did to bring an improvement? You question my methods, but my luck brought this battery. Clara trusted us, so why don’t you do the same? Besides, we lost our enmity, didn’t we?"

They said nothing. The morality in their accusations made no sense. Surrender had taught him that. Words without action were meaningless to those who heard them.

"Even better," Dante continued pressing. He took two steps toward them. "Let's do this. If you want the battery so much, and say I was just lucky, you attack me, win, and take whatever you want. Wouldn't that be interesting?"

His men stepped back, and Antton did the same as Dante got closer.

"Better yet, I have a brilliant idea, little man." Dante took the cigar from his mouth and pointed at them. "If Clara agrees, I’ll take the battery myself to your side of the city. She's a good person; she'll handle it. But think with me—since when have you been capable of doing anything on your own? If you were a man, if you were someone, if your name carried weight, you wouldn't need to shout and gather more people. To me, you're nothing more than people who try to take from others out of fear, out of selfishness. Today, up here on this rooftop, none of you are taking anything. Understood?"

Antton was already halfway across the wooden bridge, having retreated nearly ten steps. He didn’t lower his body or his head; there was still a spark of anger in his eyes. It was clear he wanted to do something about it, but inside Kappz, Dante wouldn’t let him take anything that wasn’t his.

"Are we clear, gentlemen?" he asked once more. "I won’t repeat myself."

Clara and Simone arrived from the other cluster of buildings, both with the children, and they didn’t understand why Dante was pushing Antton away. However, Clara loved seeing the man who had tormented her every move in the city being put down like that.

"Go on." Dante waved his hand. "If you want to cry, do it somewhere else. I have more important things to do."

Antton seemed to swallow his pride and turned away. When he saw Clara, he clenched his teeth.

"This won’t end like this, you bitch."

Antton was walking when his leg buckled as something struck it. He fell to his knees but caught himself on someone, yelling. When he looked back, no one had moved. His men stared at everyone, but no one had done anything. Their faces held as much surprise as Antton's.

"Who did that? Damn it." He stood with help. "I’ll hunt down whoever hit me."

He was dragged away. Dante found him pathetic. While everyone suffered from having nothing, this man wanted everything for himself. It saddened him that people like that existed in such a barren world.

He turned and walked back to the battery, patting Marcus on the shoulder.

"You don’t aim a gun at an unarmed person." He went back to working on the battery. "Not even when they’re a bad person."

Marcus didn’t reply. He simply holstered his weapon, picked up one of the power tubes, and carried it to the panel.

Clara kept watching them work and felt happy that Dante had stood up to Antton. The miserable spirit of a man who wanted the whole world but didn’t even have the power to start. After so many years, Antton had never improved, always leaving the hunting to them and never truly providing anything for them to eat.

Meat was a dream for the children. Energy too, until Marcus and Dante lit the lamps in that ground floor. Strung along the wires, each one cast a yellow glow, making the night feel less murky and ominous.

The children ran, and the other residents came closer, making sure the little ones wouldn’t get hurt.

"Miss Clara." A pregnant woman approached, her face flushed, trying to hide a smile. "Thank you for this. The light… we always thought we’d never see it. My father always told me they were beautiful."

"Thank you, Miss Clara," another one said from afar, sitting on a square stone. "I always wanted to see what they looked like."

One by one, the residents came to greet her. Handshakes, hugs. The children called her 'auntie,' clinging to her leg. Clara didn’t react immediately. Faces that had never been exposed out of fear were now gathered together.

Up on the rooftop, the cold she felt every evening at nightfall was replaced by a present, human warmth. Conversations and affection. Parents and children. She was speechless, trying not to seem emotional.

"Don’t cry now," Simone advised beside her, touching her back. "Kappz now has someone they can trust. Marcus and Dante put you in this position, now… help those who need it."

It was Simone who cried. Even in old age, seeing the lamps lit made her so emotional that she had to wipe her cheeks. It was a shock. So many days, so many nights, so many stories...

In the past, someday, light had been the target of cold hearts. Untouched for years, decades, maybe even a hundred years. Many had searched for it, others had died for it. For Clara, who had always heard stories, light carried hope.

Just as hope blinded, trust did worse. The double-edged blade cut both ways. Old scars didn’t heal. The cold night and the pain of being betrayed by those who once admired her had made her retreat into the darkness.

Yet, shining brighter than the yellow lamps, there was Dante. The man played with a child, tossing pebbles in the street.

Trust had made her retreat so many steps. And now, she felt she could move forward, at least a little.

Dante noticed her gaze. And this time, without hesitation, Clara raised her hand to him, waving. And he responded with a broad smile.

"How can a person smile so much?" Her question always made her uneasy. "I should smile more."

And she stretched her lips, showing that in her heart, there was still something very important. The optimism that good things brought when the world was falling apart around her.

A warm smile.