Chapter 30: A Cut Beneath the Quiet
It was another still morning.
No birds. No wind. The light felt artificial — too bright, the sky too flat. The kind of light that made you squint and wonder if it was morning at all, or just the remnants of a world too broken to follow nature's rhythm. The air hung heavy, stale in their lungs, clinging to their skin like something that wanted to be noticed. But even heavier was the silence between them, loud in its restraint, thick with everything they didn't say.
Aria stood near the warped metal doorframe of the apartment, tightening the straps of her backpack with a practiced tug. Her eyes darted sideways. Toward Selene. Her gaze lingered for just a heartbeat — like maybe she thought she could catch something honest flickering behind that unreadable calm. Like maybe she wanted to ask something but didn't know how.
Selene was tying her boots, precise and methodical. The same woman who had kissed her like she was drowning the night before now moved like nothing had happened. The line between them had been shattered, their mouths bruised from the collision, breath stolen in the dark — but here, under this lifeless sky, it was like pressing rewind. As if that kiss hadn't left fingerprints on Aria's ribs.
She hated how much she remembered it. She hated how Selene wouldn't meet her eyes.
A soft breath escaped Aria's chest, part irritation, part ache. But she said nothing. She couldn't afford to say anything. Not when the world could collapse again in the next second.
They moved through the city like ghosts who remembered how to breathe.
The streets were an open grave — scattered belongings left behind like offerings. Broken shop windows, silent alarms that never stopped wailing, cars twisted in their final moments. Old blood, rusted shut on sidewalks. But no bodies. No movement. Only the hush of a place that had already grieved.
Still, no sign of the hordes. Not yet.
The tension in Aria's body never let up. She scanned each alley and rooftop like she'd been born into this version of reality. A week ago, she was just a girl who liked the rain, who collected pressed flowers and believed in space between seconds. But now? Now her grip on the rifle was natural, her footsteps light, her decisions sharper. Hunger and fear had carved something new into her.
Selene didn't walk. She hunted. Even when they weren't being followed.
In a half - demolished pharmacy, Aria moved quickly, pulling blister packs and vials into a satchel, her fingers quick and decisive. Selene stood at the jagged entrance, a knife in one hand, gun in the other, her stance solid. Her shoulders never sagged, her jaw never relaxed. But Aria had noticed it — the slight tilt of her head when Aria was too quiet, the way her eyes tracked Aria's hands. Like she was keeping score of every breath she took.
"Selene," Aria murmured, holding up a small white bottle. "This could help if one of us —"
A sound snapped the air in half. Glass crunching. A door banging open.
Three men stepped into the ruined building. Gaunt. Filthy. Wild - eyed. Two held rusted blades, the third a bent pipe. Their clothes were scavenged layers of fabric and madness, and in their eyes was a hunger that had nothing to do with food.
"Hand over your bags," the one in front said. His voice cracked, as if his throat had been scraped raw from screaming or begging or both.
Selene didn't flinch. She stepped in front of Aria with terrifying calm, her body a shield between them and danger. Her fingers curled tighter around her knife. Aria didn't move, her pulse sharp in her ears.
"You don't want this," Selene said, and her voice was low, even. Like a lullaby laced with poison.
The first man hesitated — but not enough.
He lunged.
Selene was motion. Clean, fluid, lethal. She struck with a flick of her wrist, the blade catching the man beneath the chin. He dropped like a severed marionette, blood blooming in slow spirals across the tile.
The second man screamed and slashed. Metal tore through Selene's side — Aria saw it, the way the fabric split, the skin parted, the blood welled. But Selene didn't fall. She pivoted, grabbed the man by the throat, and drove him backward into a cracked shelving unit. He gagged and dropped, writhing.
The third man ran. Coward. He vanished into the street like a kicked rat.
Aria dropped to her knees beside Selene, breath caught somewhere between panic and fury. "Selene!" Her hands hovered, useless, as blood trickled down Selene's ribs.
"I'm fine," Selene said. Her voice was tight, clenched between teeth.
"You're bleeding," Aria hissed. Her fingers were already reaching for gauze, antiseptic. "Don't pretend you're made of stone."
"It's shallow," Selene said again, eyes half - lidded. Dismissive.
Aria's hands trembled, but her voice didn't. "Then let me help you."
Selene didn't protest. She just let Aria tend to her like she had permission. Like she didn't want to stop her.
They returned to the apartment with dusk dragging behind them, the sun setting like it was ashamed of itself. Their bags were heavy with supplies, but the silence was heavier. Aria followed Selene inside, watching how she moved — slower now, careful. Aria shut the door behind them and locked it.
Selene dropped her gear and stripped off her bloodied shirt without hesitation. She sat on the couch, the room dim around her, the lamp casting gold shadows on her bare shoulders. Aria knelt beside her with the med kit, laying out fresh gauze and alcohol wipes, her expression unreadable.
She didn't speak right away. Neither did Selene.
Aria's fingers brushed the skin near the wound. Warm, firm, real. She swallowed. "Why do you always protect me?"
The question didn't seem to startle Selene. But it did still her.
She stared straight ahead. Then: "Because I already failed once."
It wasn't an answer. It was an apology. A confession folded in grief. Aria heard it anyway.
Her hands moved gently, pressing cloth to skin, dabbing blood with slow, careful rhythm. The closeness between them crackled — like electricity under skin. Selene's jaw twitched once, like she was trying not to feel anything. But her body didn't lie. Her breath hitched when Aria leaned closer, her fingers skimming along her waist to wrap the bandage.
"Selene," Aria whispered, lips inches from her shoulder. "I don't want to forget what happened last night."
Selene closed her eyes. "I know."
"Do you regret it?"
A pause. Then: "No."
Aria let the silence stretch, filled with something wordless and trembling. "Then why are you pretending nothing happened?"
Selene's eyes opened, meeting hers at last. "Because if I don't… I'll want more."
And there it was. The knife hidden behind the stillness. The truth too sharp to touch.
Aria's heart thundered. She leaned in — slow, deliberate — and pressed her lips to Selene's collarbone. Not a kiss for comfort. A promise.
Selene didn't pull away.
It was the fourth day since the world had cracked apart. Since everything Aria thought she understood had turned to ash.
Four days since she first ripped open the veil between worlds and revealed the golden light inside her. A power older than language, jagged and unstable. She hadn't touched it since. Not because she couldn't — but because Selene had warned her.
"People are watching," Selene had told her. "You show what you can do, they'll come for you. Use you. Or kill you."
That tear in the air hadn't been a miracle. It had been a beacon. It had screamed her existence to anyone still listening.
And Aria understood now. What she carried wasn't sacred. It was dangerous. It didn't heal. It destroyed.
She had seen it in the eyes of the scavengers. In the way Selene's body had gone tense when Aria even hinted at using it. Selene wasn't just protecting her from the world.
She was protecting the world from her.
And maybe herself too.
Aria still felt it inside her — that fracture of light and space, begging to be opened again. To let everything spill out.
But she didn't.
Not for her own sake.
For Selene's.
Because even though the world was coming undone, even though her heart beat faster every time Selene looked at her like that — like maybe she wasn't afraid of Aria's power at all — Aria knew one thing for certain.
She would rather bleed beside Selene than burn alone in the light.
And deep down, she knew it was only a matter of time before the light would come for her anyway.