The rooftop door clicked shut behind Lucien.

Silence followed but not a complete one. The distant sounds of destruction still echoed across the city, wind roaring somewhere far away, buildings groaning beneath forces they were never meant to endure. But compared to the recent battle above, the stairwell felt almost peaceful.

Lucien descended without a word, observing himself silently.

His Overclock had already faded, and the crimson glow was gone from his eyes. Only exhaustion remained, settling into his limbs with every step, a dull persistent ache that kept reminding him exactly how much he had burned through in the last few minutes.

His spiritual energy reserves were nearly empty.

The battle had lasted only a few minutes. For beings at their level, whose spiritual powers depleted faster than breathing, that was enough. Enough to decide life and death, enough to leave scars, and enough to remind him how weak he still was.

The Vermilion Skyroc surfaced in his mind.

Crimson feathers and golden eyes. A presence so overwhelming that even Roman had been forced to retreat. Lucien frowned.

Why had it appeared? For food?

Before he could dwell on it further, he reached the apartment floor and pushed the door open.

Several pairs of eyes turned toward him at once.

"Lucien!"

Andrew shot to his feet, relief flashing across his face, and Ethan wasn’t far behind.

"You’re back."

Lucien nodded. "I’m fine."

But nobody believed him. Andrew stepped forward first.

"What happened up there at the critical moment?" His gaze drifted briefly toward the ceiling. "I felt the explosion. The entire building had shaken from a single impact."

Ethan swallowed. "That guy. The Wind King." And his worry was for a different reason as a trace of unease entered his voice. "Will he come back?"

Lucien opened his mouth, but Evelyn beat him to it.

"His whole body is injured, can’t you all see that?"

Evelyn’s voice cut through the room. The apartment went quiet and only then did everyone truly look at him.

At his torn clothes, the dried blood that stained them in crimson, and the bruises that started from his arms before reaching his legs. Several shallow cuts stretched across his exposed skin.

Yet that was just the surface.

The spiritual energy wasn’t just used for battle, it also helped in enhancing the body recovery, the reason Lucien was even able to act like he was fine.

Evelyn stood. "He needs rest, we should talk later."

Andrew blinked. "But shouldn’t we be prepared in case something happens?"

Evelyn shot him a look, making Andrew immediately raise both of his hands. "Right, he should definitely rest for now."

Lucien almost smiled, almost, for his muscles screamed in protest just for trying to change his facial expressions.

"Don’t worry, he won’t be coming back soon."

Without another word, Evelyn walked toward him, swept her arms around his waist, and took him inside the room.

"You know, sometimes I wonder who is truly the man of the house," Ethan muttered, watching Evelyn take Lucien back to his room like a husband helping his wife.

The roles were reversed.

Hearing his words, Andrew raised a brow before a chuckle escaped his lips. "You will get it after you grow up."

A few minutes later they were inside his room. Evelyn helped him sit on the edge of the bed, then swept her gaze across the space.

"Do you have some medicines or first aid?"

"The drawer." Lucien gestured toward a cabinet nearby.

She opened it and found several rolls of bandages alongside a bottle of antiseptic.

Basic supplies, nothing special to give attention, and under normal circumstances, it would have accomplished little.

Though for an awakened, it was enough. The wounds would close and the bruises would fade as the magical energy would revitalize his body slowly but surely. And his body would handle the rest that comes after that.

Evelyn soaked a cloth with antiseptic and began cleaning the cuts. Neither of them spoke, creating a peaceful silence which Lucien didn’t mind.

His eyelids grew heavier with each passing minute, exhaustion slowly creeping into his bones as it replaced the fading adrenaline completely.

The battle, Roman, the Skyroc, everything seemed distant to him now.

"You scared us."

Lucien glanced up, only to find that Evelyn wasn’t looking at him. Her attention stayed fixed on the bandage that she kept wrapping around his arm.

"I’ll always survive no matter what the situation is."

"That’s not what I said."

He paused, understanding it wasn’t the death of him that she was concerned about, no, she was, but what worried her more for now were the cuts and bruises that were present on his body like a sculpture that had been destroyed by someone who had been handed a knife.

"Sorry."

Evelyn tightened the bandage before finally meeting his eyes. "Don’t apologize. I also had thought a lot of things before meeting you, but all of it turned out just to be my speculation. You aren’t that bad."

Lucien stared at her for a moment, "Are you hitting on me?" This only earned a light smile from Evelyn as she shook her head.

Outside the apartment window, the ruined city stretched endlessly beneath a darkening sky, completely drowned.

And even far away, beyond countless buildings, a crimson figure soared through the heavens, trying to search for something, or rather someone.

Hours passed and night settled over the city before long.

The apartment remained unusually quiet. Most of the survivors had already gone to sleep. Only Andrew remained awake, sitting near a window and absentmindedly rotating a knife between his fingers.

The distant city lights flickered beyond the glass, a reminder that humanity hadn’t completely disappeared.

Ethan sat nearby. Neither spoke for a while.

Eventually, Ethan broke the silence. "You think we’re safe?"

Andrew snorted. "No. Not even a little."

Ethan grimaced. "Thanks."

"I’m serious." Andrew leaned back. "The apocalypse started less than a month ago and now every week something worse appears.

First, it was the mutated sea-creatures. Then awakeners and now we even have maniacs proclaiming themselves as kings." He pointed vaguely toward the sky.

"And now a giant flaming bird that is capable of chasing away people like them."

Ethan couldn’t argue with that, for the image alone was enough. The Wind King, a man capable of flattening buildings, a man who had turned entire groups of survivors into trembling spectators, was forced to flee by a bird.

After several moments, Ethan spoke again. "Do you think Lucien can beat him?"

Andrew’s hand stopped moving. For the first time, uncertainty crossed his face. "I don’t know." The answer surprised even him. A few weeks ago he would have laughed at the question and now Lucien had become someone he couldn’t understand. When they met for the first time, he was just a cautious kid who calculated things clearly.

But now he was becoming more wild and doing impossible things. Someone who somehow survived battles that should have killed him without effort.

And yet, Andrew remembered the state Lucien had returned in. The injuries, the exhaustion, and the blood.

His expression darkened. "He’ll get stronger." The words were firm, almost stubborn coming from him.

Ethan looked at him. "You really believe that?"

Andrew nodded. "I do."

Neither of them noticed the faint smile that appeared on Snowy’s face. The white ferret remained curled up near the entrance, eyes closed, seemingly asleep.

Only seemingly. Far beneath that calm exterior, ancient instincts stirred. The scent lingering on Lucien had changed. The scent of the crimson bird was now present on him, a scent of royalty. The scent of something that probably stood near the very top of the food chain.

Snowy’s ears twitched once, and stillness returned.