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Chapter One-Hundred-And-Sixty-Three: Rod: Fallout , Part 2

Chapter One-Hundred-And-Sixty-Three: Rod: Fallout , Part 2

“We need to move,” she said, her voice steady, but I could sense a trace of tension beneath it, a tightness that hadn’t been there before.

“Yeah,” I agreed, trying to shake off the whirlwind of emotions. My heart was still racing, though now it wasn’t just from the fight. As we looted the Owl’s remains, we found an interesting item—a rare artifact that looked valuable, but wasn’t something we could take advantage of in our current classes. Still, it was a good haul. Yet, even as we pocketed the spoils, the lingering doubts weighed on me, clouding the victory.

We tried to salvage as many books as we could, but the fight with the Owl had dragged on longer than we anticipated. Large sections of the shelves had been destroyed, reduced to charred wood and ash. The once-majestic library was now a graveyard of knowledge, and I felt a deep pang of regret as I realized how much had been lost. The smell of burnt paper hung heavy in the air, a reminder of the irreversible damage we had caused. But just as despair began to creep in, we noticed that the foxy ladies had managed to save a large number of the books. Though they were nowhere to be seen now, we ended up with a combined total of 500 books between us. It was going to be a huge boon, a silver lining in the midst of the destruction.

“What are we going to do with all these books?” I asked as we began to make our way out of the library, my voice a little shakier than I intended. “We can pretty much guarantee we’ll have access to anything we need, right?”

“Kinda,” Blake replied, her tone thoughtful, though there was an edge to it. “It depends on the leverage we get and whether these books are usable worlds or not. But yeah, 500 books is a massive advantage.”

I nodded, but something in the back of my mind wouldn’t let go of what had just happened. The kiss, the fight, the tension in her voice—it all swirled together in a confusing mix that I couldn’t untangle. As we walked, the silence between us grew heavier, and I knew I couldn’t ignore it any longer. I had to say something, even if it meant risking more awkwardness. My heart pounded in my chest, anxiety tightening its grip as I tried to find the right words.

“Blake, we need to talk when we get back. About… us.” The words came out more hesitant than I’d planned, each one weighted with the uncertainty that had been gnawing at me since the battle ended.

She looked at me, her expression shifting to something more guarded. Her eyes, usually so sharp and confident, seemed to flicker with something else—something vulnerable. “What do you mean?” There was a hint of unease in her voice, like she was bracing herself for something unpleasant. The flicker of something I’d seen in her eyes earlier was back, more pronounced now, as if she was readying herself for bad news.

The words started spilling out faster than I could control, almost like I couldn’t stop them. “When I died, the woman I loved died trying to save my life.” My voice trembled as the memories came rushing back, overwhelming me. I felt a lump forming in my throat, and I swallowed hard, trying to steady myself. “I just can’t abandon those feelings, and this… this came on very suddenly. I don’t know how to feel, and I’m probably already ruining things by even bringing it up. And now I’m rambling, and I’m…”

Before I could finish, Blake interrupted me with a soft, brief kiss. The warmth of her lips against mine silenced the flood of words. She placed her hand on my cheek as she pulled away, her touch grounding me in the moment.

“Hey, relax, it’s okay.” She flashed that same grin again, the one that usually disarmed me, but this time there was a softness in her eyes that I hadn’t noticed before. “I’m not here to complicate things. I just thought it would be fun to make out—don’t make a big deal out of it. And if somehow we find her in this place, I’ll step aside. I’m not about that drama life. It’s probably why I’m here.”

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“What?” I blinked, trying to process what she was saying. Her words seemed almost surreal, like they didn’t fit the gravity of what I’d just confessed. Romance? Fun? My mind was still spinning, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about any of this. The idea that she could be so casual about something that felt so intense to me left me feeling both relieved and more confused than ever.

“I’m just here to have fun, friendo. Don’t overthink it.” Her tone was light, almost playful, but there was an undertone that suggested she wasn’t as carefree as she was trying to seem. It was as if she was trying to protect herself too, keep things simple in a world where nothing ever was.

I stared at her incredulously, the confusion in my mind only growing. Was she really this casual about everything? Had I misread the entire situation? Before I could gather my thoughts, she leaned in again, her lips brushing mine in another quick kiss, as if to distract me from my spiraling thoughts.

But even as our lips met, the questions kept churning in my mind. Was this just a way for her to cope with the madness around us? Or was she genuinely uninterested in anything deeper? The mix of emotions—relief, confusion, and a lingering sense of something unresolved—swirled inside me. The kiss ended too quickly, leaving me with more questions than answers.

“See? It’s all good,” she said with a wink, stepping back as if nothing significant had just happened.

But to me, it wasn’t just good. It wasn’t simple, and it wasn’t easy. The way my heart had raced when I thought I was ruining things, the way it still pounded in my chest—those weren’t things I could just brush off. I wanted to say something, to clarify, to make sense of what was happening between us, but the words stuck in my throat. I didn’t want to ruin the fragile peace we had just found, so I forced a smile and nodded.

As we returned to the main library, my anger grew, a simmering rage that clawed at the edges of my self-control, a feeling I hadn’t experienced since the bitter moments of leaving the second floor. The heat of it curled in my chest, tightening around my ribs like a vice, and every breath felt like stoking a fire I desperately wanted to snuff out. I forced myself to take deep, deliberate breaths, each inhale shaky, each exhale an attempt to calm the storm raging inside. Don’t. It’s not worth it. The words echoed in my mind like a mantra, but they felt hollow, barely containing the frustration threatening to spill over. Whatever Blake’s deal is, it’s not worth getting Malikap involved again.

I followed Blake into the next room, my feet heavy with the weight of my anger, and collapsed into a chair with a resigned sigh, realizing we were back in that stupid lobby again. The sight of it twisted the knot in my stomach tighter. Great, more waiting, I thought, the taste of bitterness sharp on my tongue. Blake, however, moved with purpose, her movements brisk as she wasted no time knocking on the director’s door. When it opened without hesitation, a fresh wave of resentment surged through me. I had to grit my teeth, hard enough that my jaw ached, just to keep from cursing out loud at the blatant unfairness of it all.

Why am I always the butt of everyone’s stupid jokes? The thought burned through me, the injustice of it gnawing at my resolve. My hands clenched into fists, nails biting into my palms, but I ignored the pain and followed her into the office, forcing my expression into something that wasn’t an outright snarl.

William sat behind the desk, his presence calm and unchanged, but this time something else drew my attention, and I couldn’t help staring, slack-jawed, at the creature beside him. It was an absurd sight, like something plucked from the fevered dream of a child—a puppy’s head with soft, innocent features and kind, wide eyes; a human-like torso, clad in a vest that looked almost too formal for such a bizarre creature; and, impossibly, dragon-like wings, leathery and folded neatly around its furry, human-like hands. It licked itself under its wing, and the sight of it was so outlandish, so utterly nonsensical, that a mix of disgust and disbelief churned in my gut. Gross.

But as the creature came into full view, Blake was already talking, her voice cutting through the absurdity like a knife. “Hello, Mr. William. You’re going to be so impressed with what we’ve done.” She began pulling books out of her inventory, her tone smug, self-assured. I watched her, my anger simmering just below the surface, a slow burn that refused to die, even in the face of this madness.