The air was thick with music, laughter, and the scent of grilled meat. A feast was laid out across wooden tables—canned goods, scavenged snacks, and even fresh fruit from who-knows-where. Torches flickered, and neon lights bathed the street in a surreal glow.

  For the first time in months, the world felt… alive.

  Nero and Amira sat together, their plates untouched. Around them, people danced, clinked their drinks, and talked as if this were a normal weekend gathering rather than the aftermath of the world ending.

  Badong, however, was already downing his second drink, laughing heartily with a group of men. "Damn, it's been too long since I had a proper meal with people!"

  A man approached them—not just any man, but the one everyone here seemed to respect.

  Tall, lean, with a confident but unreadable expression, he moved with an air of intelligence rather than brute strength. His dark, slightly unkempt hair framed sharp, watchful eyes. He was dressed in practical, reinforced clothing, not like the others who seemed more… carefree.

  He took a sip from his metal flask before speaking. "You're the new ones, huh?"

  Nero glanced up. "And you are?"

  The man smirked. "Kali."

  Amira tilted her head. "You in charge here?"

  Kali shrugged. "Something like that."

  Badong, wiping his mouth, turned to him. "This is all yours?"

  Kali took a seat across from them. "I put it together, yeah. Found survivors, fixed up power sources, built a safe place." He took another sip. "People needed hope. So I gave them one."

  Nero studied him. He didn't speak like the others—there was something different about him.

  "You're an engineer?" Nero asked.

  Kali nodded. "Solar, electrical, and a bit of everything. After the impact, I knew civilization wasn't coming back on its own. So I got to work. Repaired solar panels, set up water filtration, even modified a sound system to call out to survivors."

  Amira's eyes widened. "That's… impressive."

  Kali leaned back, watching them. "That's why you're here. You heard it, didn't you?"

  Nero exchanged glances with Amira. The sound she heard in the glass… could that have been his system?

  Kali smirked. "You'd be surprised how far desperation travels. A voice in the dark? People will chase it."

  The way he said it—calm, almost detached—made Nero shiver.

  Badong, however, grinned. "Well, I'm glad we found you! We were getting tired of ghosts."

  Kali chuckled. "You'll find plenty of ghosts in this world, my friend."

  For a while, they just sat there, watching the celebration unfold. It was too good to be true—fresh food, working electricity, even people laughing in the midst of all this death.

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  And Kali, the man who built it all, was the biggest mystery of them all.

  As Nero watched the engineer, he couldn't help but feel that Kali wasn't telling them everything.

  And something about that unsettled him.

  The first night in Haven was unlike anything Nero had experienced since the impact. Food, music, and voices filled the air—not the cries of the dying or the silence of the dead, but genuine laughter.

  It felt like a dream. Too good to be true.

  Amira wasn't drinking, and neither was Nero. They sat by the edges of the party, observing. Kali had disappeared somewhere, and Badong was busy downing drinks with the others.

  Nero sighed. "I should feel happy, but… I don't know. It's weird."

  Amira hugged her knees, her face unreadable. "Yeah. It doesn't feel real."

  Despite the warmth of the fire and the sounds of people celebrating, there was something in the air. A heaviness.

  Then it happened.

  A shadow loomed over them.

  "Hey, Amira."

  She stiffened.

  A man, tall, broad-shouldered, and with a smug grin that made Nero's skin crawl, stood before them. His clothes were cleaner than most survivors', his hair slicked back, and his breath reeked of alcohol.

  Nero immediately disliked him.

  "Baron," Amira said flatly.

  Baron crouched down to her eye level, resting an arm on his knee. "Glad you made it to Haven. I knew I'd see you again."

  Nero frowned. They know each other?

  Amira's jaw clenched. "I met him yesterday. He was one of the first to welcome me."

  Baron grinned. "Come on, don't be shy. You're one of the few pretty faces around here. That's rare these days, y'know?"

  Nero noticed how tense Amira was. Her fingers curled slightly as if resisting the urge to pull away.

  She forced a small smile. "I'm just tired, Baron."

  Baron scoffed, leaning in. Too close. "Oh, come on. No need to play hard to get. The world's ended. Might as well enjoy life, right?"

  Nero's patience snapped. "She said she's tired."

  Baron turned to him, raising an eyebrow. "And who the hell are you?"

  Nero didn't answer. He just held Baron's gaze, refusing to back down.

  Baron chuckled, shaking his head. "Relax, kid. I'm just being friendly." He looked back at Amira. "We'll talk later, yeah?"

  She didn't answer.

  Baron stood up, patting Nero's shoulder a little too hard before walking away, disappearing into the crowd.

  Nero turned to Amira. "What was that?"

  She exhaled slowly, rubbing her arms. "I don't know. He's just… like that. Ever since I got here, he's been watching me. Always trying to talk to me."

  "Has he done anything?"

  "No." She hesitated. "Not yet."

  Nero clenched his fists.

  Not yet.

  The words echoed in his head, and he had a sinking feeling.

  This wasn't over.

  Something was going to happen.

  And when it did, Nero swore he'd be ready.

  The tension from Baron's encounter still clung to Nero and Amira, but they tried to shake it off. The party continued, laughter echoing through the ruined streets.

  Then it happened.

  A guttural cough.

  Followed by another. And another.

  The music didn't stop, but some people turned their heads. A man staggered forward, clutching his chest. He coughed violently, spraying blood onto the ground.

  The party froze.

  Someone gasped. Another screamed.

  Nero's breath hitched. What the hell?

  The man collapsed. His body convulsed, and more blood spilled from his lips, pooling around him. His eyes were wide, panicked—dying.

  People backed away, but not in shock.

  Not in grief.

  In fear.

  Kali rushed forward, kneeling beside the man. His expression remained calm, but his jaw clenched. He checked for a pulse. After a few seconds, he sighed.

  "Shit."

  Nero stared at the blood. "What… what happened to him?"

  Kali stood up. "Overdose."

  Nero blinked. "What?"

  Kali's gaze swept across the gathered survivors. "You all know the rule. We don't take care of the ones who take too much." His voice was cold, matter-of-fact.

  Some people nodded. Others just looked away.

  Badong, now sobered up, stepped closer. "Wait… drugs? You people have drugs?"

  A woman scoffed from the crowd. "Of course we do. How else do you think people stay 'happy' in this shithole?"

  Nero's stomach twisted. He looked around—really looked.

  The slurred speech. The glassy eyes. The way some people moved too loosely, too carefree, even in a world reduced to ruin.

  Haven wasn't just running on solar panels and good music.

  It was running on something else.

  Amira whispered, "This place isn't right."

  For the first time since arriving, Nero agreed.

  The illusion of safety had cracked, and beneath it, something was rotten.

  And now, they were in the middle of it.