Beep, beep.

The steady beeping of an ECG machine filled the silence. A dull, rhythmic sound.

David’s eyes fluttered open, greeted by an expanse of white. Everything—his vision, his surroundings—was swallowed by it. His mind reeled, struggling to piece together what had happened.

How did he end up here? Why had he passed out? The questions flooded his mind, but his body refused to cooperate.

He attempted to turn his head, only to be met with a sharp jolt of pain. His muscles ached, protesting every movement.

Instead, he settled for shifting his eyes, scanning his blurred vision. It didn’t take long for him to understand—he was in a hospital. He had survived.

A long, quiet moment passed before another concern surfaced. His arm. He tried to move it, bracing himself for pain, but to his surprise, it responded. The pain was there, but duller than expected.

A miracle? He wasn’t sure. His mind was still clouded, disoriented, struggling to differentiate between what had happened and what hadn’t. Yet, despite the storm of thoughts, his expression remained blank.

The sterile white walls seemed to close in on him, almost suffocating in their emptiness. The beeping machine, relentless in its rhythm, kept time with the slow return of his awareness.

The door creaked open. A nurse entered, focused on the chart in her hands, oblivious to his awakening—until her gaze lifted.

“You’re awake,” she murmured to herself, before swiftly approaching his bedside.

She checked his vitals, spoke to him—something about surviving the Rift—but David barely listened. His eyes remained locked on the ceiling, the same sterile white. He didn’t want to think. Not about what had happened. Not about anything.

The nurse soon left, the room once again sinking into silence. David remained still, unmoving. Time passed.

The isolation pressed against him, but not as forcefully as the weight of his memories. Everything he had lived through—the desert, the battles, the uncertainty—felt distant, a fog he couldn’t fully push through.

Then, footsteps. A hesitant, measured approach.

A voice followed, uncertain. "Are you awake?"

David recognized it instantly—Lizzie.

He frowned inwardly. Why was she here?

Silence stretched between them until, finally, she gathered the courage to speak.

“It was us,” she admitted, her voice laced with regret. “We attacked you at the entrance.”

Her words slotted into place like the missing piece of a puzzle, explaining why he was here. But David remained silent.

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"We never expected you to survive the shapeshifter—or at least, that’s what Zack had led us to believe. We assumed the creature would return after killing you, so we prepared for a counterattack, all in the name of survival."

“I’m… really glad you survived,” she continued hesitantly.

David didn’t respond. He didn’t think. He didn’t care—not after everything he had endured.

A long pause stretched between them before she found the courage to speak again.

“But the reason we survived the Rift… is because of you. And I’m grateful for that, even if the others won’t admit it.” Her voice wavered. “And even more than that—you saved me. Twice. First, when everyone thought I was the shapeshifter. And then again… after everything.”

She inhaled sharply, as if bracing herself.

“But I’m despicable,” she whispered. “I feel so shallow after how we treated you. After what we did to the prisoners. We left you to die in the desert.”

David finally looked at her.

“If it had been up to us… you and the others would’ve died,” she admitted.

Her voice broke. Tears slipped down her cheeks.

“Your actions have shown me my own true nature,” she continued, her words trembling. “And I don’t like it.”

David was taken aback. He hadn’t expected this—not from her.

For the first time since waking, he broke his silence.

His voice was hoarse, weak, but he forced the words out.

“Is that what happened?” He swallowed. “What about the others?”

Lizzie hesitated, then sighed.

“After we attacked you… you passed out instantly. The group was suspicious—whether you were the shapeshifter or not. Zack wanted to kill you. He didn’t want to take any risks.”

David clenched his jaw but said nothing.

“I wanted to survive too,” she admitted. “But… it didn’t feel right. You didn’t feel like the shapeshifter.”

She exhaled, gathering her thoughts.

“Zack and I were arguing about what to do when James found it. The blue core—the one you had discovered.”

David’s breath hitched.

“And not just that,” she added. “We found the shapeshifter. The one you killed. Far from the entrance, buried under the debris.”

She paused, letting the words settle.

“Everything made sense then,” she said softly. “You weren’t the shapeshifter. You were the one who saved us.”

A bitter chuckle escaped her lips.

“We had the core. We had proof. So I asked Zack to help us bring you back.”

David frowned.

“But he refused.”

Lizzie nodded, her expression darkening.

“Something in his pride wouldn’t accept it. He didn’t want to admit he was saved by you.”

David closed his eyes, unsurprised.

“…Then who brought me back?”

“Arnold.”

David’s eyes snapped open.

“He picked you up and carried you on his shoulders,” Lizzie continued. “Your arm was in bad shape. If it had stayed that way much longer… a low-level healer like me wouldn’t have been able to do anything.”

She sighed.

“But at least… most of us survived. Because of you.”

She hesitated, then gave a sad smile.

“And… as harsh as it might sound, I never expected help from a prisoner.”

Her words lingered in the sterile air, but David said nothing.

Because deep down, he wasn’t sure if he would have saved them either.

Many moments drifted by, heavy with silence.

He turned his head slightly, his gaze settling on her.

She looked different. Not physically, but something in her expression had changed. The usual sharpness in her eyes had dulled, replaced with something heavier.

“…Where is everyone?” His voice came out rough, strained. “Where’s Arnold?”

Lizzie inhaled deeply before answering. “They’re gone.”

David's brow furrowed.

“As soon as we exited the Rift, everyone left. Zack… the authorities took him.” She hesitated, her fingers gripping the edge of the chair. “Five people died under his command, and they want to know exactly what happened.”

David let that sink in. He wasn’t surprised. Zack had always acted as if he was untouchable.

“And Arnold?”

Her expression darkened. “They took him back. To prison.”

David exhaled sharply, looking up at the ceiling. His thoughts swirled—memories of the Rift, of the battles, of the moment everything had turned against him.

“You were unconscious for three days,” Lizzie said softly. “Even though it might take you months to fully recover in your condition, once you do… they’ll take you back to prison too.”

The weight of those words settled in the room. Neither of them spoke for a long moment.

Then, her voice wavered. “But… I hope we meet again. Outside. When all of this is behind us.”

David turned to her, watching the way she kept her gaze lowered. She had always been confident, outspoken. Seeing her like this—uncertain, regretful—felt strange.

Her hands clenched into fists on her lap, and when she finally looked at him, there was something raw in her eyes.

“I never thought I’d say this,” she admitted. “But you changed things. You saved us. You saved me. And… I don’t know if I deserved that.”

David let out a slow breath. “It wasn’t about who deserved what.”

Lizzie looked away, swallowing hard. “I just—” She stopped herself, shaking her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

She stood up abruptly, as if afraid of what else she might say if she stayed any longer.

David watched her take a step toward the door. And then, before she could leave, he spoke.

“Me too.”

Lizzie froze.

“I hope we meet again,” David said, his voice quieter. “Under different circumstances.”

She didn’t turn around. She didn’t need to.

"I believe you," he continued, his voice soft yet resolute. "People are capable of change; I, too, stand as evidence of that truth."

Her eyes glistened with the onset of tears, a silent reflection of the emotions she struggled to contain.

For a brief moment, she simply stood there, listening. Then, without a word, she walked away, leaving David alone with the steady beeping of the machine and the weight of everything that had happened.

Beep, beep.