I Woke Up 120 Years After The Apocalypse-Chapter 30: Growing

Leyla was standing there, sitting on the bed as if it belonged to her.

Akram closed the door behind him and looked at the young woman questioningly.

"Why the hell are you here?"

"I told you we weren’t done with our discussion, didn’t I?"

Akram swallowed hard. He had always struggled in awkward situations; his only way to deal with them was to completely ignore the problem and keep doing whatever he was doing.

He started tidying up his things, pulling out his bag, doing all kinds of pointless little tasks just to look busy, with the sole purpose of dodging the discomfort.

The problem was that they were alone in the room. No one to interrupt them, no one to change the subject for him.

Leyla frowned and straightened up.

"You know you can’t dodge this, right?"

"..."

"Akram... I—"

"I’m sorry, Leyla, I offer you my deepest apologies. I didn’t have a choice—Runa and the others were busy with the fortifications!"

Akram completely lost control. He hadn’t managed to contain his embarrassment. To avoid a mental breakdown, his brain decided that blurting everything out and apologizing was the best option—and he did so without warning.

Leyla was surprised at first, but her expression quickly softened, reassuring him.

"Whoa, calm down, calm down. I’m not mad at you at all, no need to panic!"

"I know the others, including Runa, were extremely busy, and I also know you let her help whenever she had free time."

"Then why do we need to talk about it again?"

"Because I wanted to thank you—something I haven’t done properly since I woke up."

Akram relaxed and focused all his attention on her.

"You took care of me while you were fighting for Vulkania’s survival."

"When I was useless, when I was nothing but dead weight... You never made me feel it. You were always gentle and patient.."

"That’s normal, Leyla, I just couldn’t—"

"No, it’s not normal. I feel deeply ashamed—so ashamed I could bury myself alive..."

Leyla lowered her gaze. For the first time in a long while, she allowed herself to be vulnerable in front of someone—in front of a man. Something she had forbidden herself growing up in a cruel world.

Akram crouched down to her level and gently placed his hands over hers, a warm smile on his face.

"I think, on the contrary, that you were incredibly brave."

Leyla lifted her head, her eyes filled with tears.

"How so...? By abandoning you?"

Akram slowly shook his head.

"By surviving what you went through. Didn’t you come back?"

"No one blames you. No one doubts your pain. You have nothing to be ashamed of. You didn’t just come back—you came back stronger."

A sincere, wide smile spread across Leyla’s face. Her gaze no longer carried that hateful flame that once awakened her—only warmth and tenderness, the kind Akram, and Vulkania as a whole, desperately needed to survive.

Akram finally pulled her into his arms. That final gesture was too much for Leyla, who collapsed into sobs, clinging tightly to the young man.

She, who had suffered so much and kept everything inside, could finally express her grief and sorrow in the arms of someone who had watched over her—and whom she could always rely on.

***

The next day, and the days that followed, for six long months, Akram’s mornings and nights were anything but peaceful. For six months straight, Yashyn trained him with relentless intensity. His body grew stronger from head to toe—his endurance, his muscles, his sword technique, everything was sharpened.

Yashyn, despite appearances, was an extremely demanding master, to the point where Akram himself wanted to give up more than once. Each time, Leyla and the others talked him out of it.

All of these efforts were for one single goal: proving Vulkania’s strength when the Oathbearers came to test their leader.

Little by little, the colony grew. New wandering settlers joined the ranks and contributed to Vulkania’s expansion. Akram’s relentless efforts eventually paid off in the settlers’ eyes; his determination became a driving force for all Vulkans, accelerating their growth even further.

In short, the Vulkans saw Akram as a great leader. All of them—even the most skeptical and pessimistic—believed in the young man and what he could achieve.

Over the months, Vulkania developed and expanded. Fields multiplied, and Akram’s scientific advances, especially the widespread use of renewable energy, were commercialized.

Vulkania’s trade flourished, both with the Sand Bandits and other minor settlements, exchanging resources and fueling the region’s growth.

The Varang was growing. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

Vulkania surpassed its former population peak before the Grand Canyon expedition—sixty people. They were now nearly a hundred.

And so, six months later, the clash of metal echoed through the training yard.

Yashyn and Akram exchanged countless blows, cutting through the air at a speed previously unattainable for the young Vulkan.

Akram gave his master no breathing room, chaining feints and thrusts.

Nearby, Nezra, Leyla, and Elliot watched from the benches, nodding in satisfaction.

"Damn, he’s doing way better than last week, right?"

"Yeah, Elliot, that’s what we call improvement, dumbass."

"Leave him alone, Leyla... He’s skipped training from the start, of course he’s surprised by any progress."

The two young women laughed together. Their past conflicts resolved, they had become the most teasing duo in the colony.

Elliot muttered under his breath and ignored them.

Akram and Yashyn continued their duel. The young Vulkan deflected blows impressively, but Yashyn’s relentless attacks from multiple angles eventually gave him the upper hand.

A strike near Akram’s eyes, barely parried, made him shut them for half a second.

Long enough for Yashyn to slide low and sweep his legs.

Certain of victory, Yashyn relaxed. But time seemed to slow.

As Akram fell, he discreetly slid his mechanical hand under his arm, palm facing his opponent.

With a single motion, a burst of combustion erupted, throwing up dust and forcing the bounty hunter to step back instinctively.

Akram sprang up and charged forward, convinced he had won.

The spectators gasped in unison, impressed by the Vulkan leader’s move.

But when the dust settled, Yashyn’s blade was already raised, resting beneath Akram’s throat.

Akram lifted his chin, raised his hands, and accepted defeat with that gesture of surrender.

"Well damn, not bad at all, lil’ bud! What’s that little toy?" Yashyn exclaimed as he sheathed his blade into its patched, tattered scabbard.

Akram glanced at the scabbard, grimacing slightly.

"Yeah, it’s something I developed with Nezra on my new prosthetic... But hey, don’t you want Plumrol to take a look at your sword?"

"Uh... I dunno... I kinda like it like this. It’s stylish as hell."

"Yeah... we’re going to see him anyway, right?"

Elliot and the two women approached, congratulating Akram. Nezra rushed toward him, almost clinging to his arm—a familiarity she had maintained over the past six months, much to Leyla’s displeasure.

"Wow, Akram, you did amazing! You were really close to beating him! With that little thing we built into your arm... it was that close!"

"Hey, Nezra, let him breathe... Can’t you see how much he’s sweating?"

"Damn Akram, you’re almost making me regret not training with you! I said almost."

As they talked, a distant voice called out, chanting the leader’s name.

"Akram! Akram!"

Baron, recently promoted chief scout, entered the training ground.

He approached the group, short of breath and sweating—something rare for him.

"Akram... it’s time!"

Akram tilted his head, narrowing his eyes in confusion.

"The Oathbearers are coming. They’ll be here soon!"

Akram’s eyes widened, as did those of his companions.

Yashyn sighed.

"Six months... It’s something. But I would’ve liked more."

"No. Six months is enough."

Confidence radiated from Akram. Yashyn and the others felt it instantly.

He was ready. It was only a matter of days before he would face an Oathbearer champion, and finally prove who he truly was.