The lunch eventually came to an end.

The mess hall slowly emptied as soldiers returned to their duties, mechanics headed back toward the maintenance depots, and nurses made their way to the hospital. The peaceful atmosphere remained, but the base itself never truly slept. Even after surviving another massive wave, thousands of people still had jobs to do.

Ryan finished the last piece of fried chicken on his tray and stood up.

"I need sleep before I start hallucinating and seeing zombies in my cereal."

"You don’t even eat cereal," Adrian said.

"Exactly. That’s how bad it’ll be."

Chandrika laughed softly.

Ryan pointed at her.

"See? She gets my jokes."

"They’re not funny."

"You’re just uncultured."

Adrian sighed.

"You need rest."

"I know. I know." Ryan stretched his arms above his head. "Try not to accidentally go on another date while I’m asleep."

"This isn’t a date."

"Sure."

Ryan looked toward Chandrika, who immediately became flustered again.

"It was nice meeting you."

"You too."

He nodded with satisfaction.

"Good. I’m going to sleep now. If I wake up and you two are married, I expect to be invited."

"Get out."

Ryan laughed and walked away, his hands tucked behind his head.

Several nearby soldiers watched him leave, then looked at Adrian and Chandrika.

Adrian already knew what they were thinking.

He chose to ignore them.

For now.

Chandrika adjusted her glasses and looked outside the windows.

"I should probably head back too."

"Back where?"

"Training grounds."

He blinked.

"Training?"

She nodded. "I have afternoon drills."

Adrian remembered that she had joined one of the auxiliary combat units nearly a year ago. During the recent wave, several reserve and militia formations had been mobilized to reinforce defensive sectors around the base.

Apparently, she had been among them.

"You fought last night?"

"A little."

He stared at her.

She immediately looked defensive.

"I wasn’t in the front lines."

"A little?"

"We guarded one of the logistics areas."

"A little?"

"There were some infected."

"How many is some?"

She looked away.

"...Maybe thirty."

Adrian blinked.

"Thirty?"

"There were a lot of us."

He sighed.

She looked oddly guilty.

For some reason, the expression made him want to laugh.

Instead, he stood.

"Come on."

She blinked.

"What?"

"Take me to the training grounds."

She looked surprised.

"Why?"

"I want to see how you’re doing."

A few seconds passed.

Then her eyes widened.

"You mean... you’re going to watch?"

"Yes."

Immediately, she looked nervous.

Very nervous.

"I don’t think that’s a good idea."

"Why not?"

"Because..."

She paused.

Because what?

Because the Commander of Basa Air Base wanted to watch her train?

Because she suddenly felt self-conscious?

Because she remembered nearly shooting herself in the foot during her second week of training?

All of the above.

Adrian raised an eyebrow.

"You don’t want me there?"

"No! That’s not it!"

He looked confused.

She sighed.

"...Fine."

A smile tugged at his lips.

She noticed.

"Are you laughing at me?"

"No."

"You are."

"I’m not."

"You absolutely are."

He failed to hide the smile.

She huffed.

For some reason, it only made him smile more.

...

The training grounds occupied a large section of the western base.

Unlike the parade square or residential district, this part of Basa looked unmistakably military. Obstacle courses stretched across open fields, shooting ranges echoed with intermittent gunfire, and several groups of recruits jogged beneath the afternoon sun.

The place was alive.

Whistles blew.

Instructors shouted.

Boots pounded against packed dirt.

A Black Hawk thundered overhead, heading toward the airfield.

As Adrian and Chandrika approached, several trainees noticed them.

Then more.

Then everyone.

The effect was immediate.

People straightened.

Conversations stopped.

A few instructors looked alarmed.

Because the Commander rarely visited the training grounds without a reason.

One sergeant hurried over.

He snapped a salute.

"Sir!"

"At ease."

The man relaxed slightly.

"What brings you here, sir?"

Adrian glanced toward Chandrika.

"I’m observing."

The sergeant followed his gaze.

Then looked at Chandrika.

Then at Adrian.

Then back at Chandrika.

Understanding slowly dawned on his face.

Chandrika immediately felt her ears growing hot.

"No! It’s not like that!"

The sergeant looked unconvinced.

"I understand."

"You clearly don’t!"

Adrian pinched the bridge of his nose.

This was going to become a rumor.

He could already tell.

The sergeant wisely changed the subject.

"Training is currently focused on weapons handling and marksmanship."

Adrian nodded.

"Continue as normal."

"Yes, sir."

The sergeant quickly retreated.

Chandrika covered her face.

"I’m never hearing the end of this."

"You’ll be fine."

"No, I won’t."

He almost smiled again.

Almost.

The auxiliary trainees soon assembled near the range. There were around forty of them, most of whom were civilians who had volunteered to receive military training. Some were former office workers. Others had been students, store employees, or hotel staff.

A few of them recognized Adrian.

They became noticeably more nervous.

One woman nearly dropped her rifle.

Another stood so straight she looked ready to faint.

Chandrika looked equally uncomfortable.

"You don’t have to stay."

"I’m already here."

She sighed.

Unfortunately, that was true.

The instructor called for live-fire practice.

One by one, the trainees moved toward their firing positions.

Cracks echoed across the range.

Some shots hit center mass.

Others completely missed.

The instructor sighed frequently.

Eventually, it became Chandrika’s turn.

She stepped forward with an M4 carbine and took position behind the firing line.

Her short bob swayed slightly as she adjusted her stance.

Unlike the day Adrian had first met her, she now wore training attire.

A dark green shirt clung lightly to her frame, and camouflage pants were tucked neatly into her boots. A baseball cap sat backward on her head, while protective glasses covered her eyes.

She still looked beautiful.

The thought appeared unexpectedly.

Adrian blinked.

That was... new.

The instructor gave the signal.

Chandrika raised the rifle.

She fired.

Crack.

Another shot.

Crack.

Another.

Crack.

When the target was reeled back, she had hit it.

Mostly.

The grouping wasn’t terrible.

It also wasn’t good.

The instructor nodded.

"Not bad."

She looked relieved.

Then she looked toward Adrian.

He was still watching.

She suddenly became nervous again.

"What?" she asked.

He crossed his arms.

"You pull the trigger too hard."

She blinked.

"What?"

"Your shots drift right."

She frowned.

"They do?"

He stepped forward.

The trainees immediately parted.

Even the instructors looked curious.

Adrian stopped beside her.

"Show me."

She handed him the rifle.

He checked it briefly, then returned it.

"Shoulder it."

She obeyed.

"Relax."

She adjusted.

"You’re too tense."

"I am?"

"Yes."

She didn’t realize it, but her shoulders were practically locked.

Adrian gently adjusted her grip.

"There."

She froze.

Because he was close.

Very close.

She could smell soap and gun oil.

Her heart abruptly forgot how to function.

"You need to breathe."

"I... what?"

"Breathe."

"Oh."

She inhaled.

The nearby trainees were openly watching now.

One woman covered her mouth.

Another looked delighted.

An instructor suddenly found the sky very interesting.

Adrian remained completely oblivious.

He pointed toward the target.

"Don’t anticipate the recoil."

She nodded.

"Okay."

"Slow squeeze."

"Okay."

"Don’t yank it."

"Okay."

She sounded distracted.

Because she was.

He stepped back.

"Try again."

She fired.

Crack.

Crack.

Crack.

The target returned.

A noticeably tighter grouping.

Her eyes widened.

"Oh."

The instructor looked impressed.

"That’s much better."

She looked toward Adrian.

A smile slowly appeared on her face.

It wasn’t large.

Just soft.

Warm.

"You were right."

He shrugged.

"I’ve fired a few rifles."

A few.

Several nearby soldiers almost laughed.

She looked down at the target again.

Then back at him.

"You really can do everything, can’t you?"

He looked genuinely confused.

"No."

She smiled.

The expression looked lighter than before.

Freer.

For some reason, seeing that smile felt strangely satisfying.

The afternoon continued around them.

Recruits trained.

Instructors shouted.

Helicopters crossed the sky.

And beneath the warm sun of Basa Air Base, a young commander and one of the survivors he had rescued stood beside a firing range, discussing shooting techniques as if the world outside their walls wasn’t still filled with zombies.

For a little while, it didn’t matter.

There were no hordes.

No battles.

No impossible odds.

There was only a training range, the smell of gunpowder, and a young woman smiling because she had finally hit her target properly.

And somehow, Adrian found himself smiling too.