Apocalypse Ascension

Ten minutes passed by in tired silence.

No one said much on the way back, not because they had nothing to say—but because their bodies and minds simply refused to waste any more energy. The weight of survival felt heavier after their adrenaline faded.

The group didn't return through the front—instead, they retraced their steps and took the same route they used to leave: the rear fire escape.

No one mentioned it, but they all thought the same thing: moving all that stuff from the barricade wasn't worth the hassle. Not when their arms still ached and hands still trembled from what they'd done in the depot.

The alley was dimmer now; the flickering streetlamp from earlier was finally dead, and the sky above bled into a grim mix of red and smoke-gray.

Justin glanced up once. He couldn't know for sure, but he guessed it was late into the afternoon—maybe around four. Strangely enough, the air felt calm, unnervingly calm—as if Avalon itself was holding its breath… waiting. Waiting for a new hope in this disaster.

But if the city really wanted a savior, it'd have to wait—because the man leading them back wanted only one thing right now: sleep.

Justin moved to the front, eyes still sharp despite the heavy fatigue—Tanya followed close behind, her grip loose on the bent metal rod. The teens trailed in pairs, Cody dragging his cracked frying pan behind him like a tired soldier marching home.

When they reached the shelter's rear door, Justin pressed it open with the same small shove as before. A low creak answered him; the old hinges sung a sad song.

Inside, the halls were warm—but not with comfort. The air felt tight… almost claustrophobic. Justin led them in without a word, his shoes still dragging ash behind him. Then, from somewhere deep in the shelter, sounds drifted out—laughter, clapping.

"Why is it so lively in the cafeteria…?"

Tanya broke the silence with a faint whisper, not knowing that the rest of her group had the same question.

Something was off—they'd only been gone ten, maybe fifteen minutes… But it felt like they'd returned to an entirely different place.

Justin slowed, his eyes narrowing. As they stepped toward the double doors that led into the cafeteria, they passed by a few kids—some stared at them in wide-eyed admiration while others dropped their gazes, as if, in their absence, they'd done something unforgivable.

Tanya approached one of them with a gentle smile—as a former part-timer, she knew almost everyone here—the child's gaze quickly rose from her feet to the woman approaching.

"Mia… What's going on in there?"

Mia—a wiry girl no older than ten, tangled braids brushing her shoulders, her shirt hanging loose on her thin frame. She stood near the corridor wall, hugging herself like she was trying to fade into it.

Hearing Tanya's question, her dark eyes shimmered with something unspoken—guilt, maybe, or worry—but Tanya's question was met with cold silence.

"Hey,"

Tanya said softly, crouching a little so they were eye level. The rod in her hand scraped against the wall as she lowered herself.

"No secrets between us two… remember?"

An even wider smile formed on the woman's face, kindness oozing out of it. For a scared little girl like Mia, what she wanted most right now was a warm, elder-sister-like figure—and Tanya filled that role completely. Mia bit her lip, glancing toward the double doors, then back at Tanya—fingers fidgeting with a braid that rested on her shoulders.

"I… I don't know." She murmured.

"Mister DeMarco said we all had to stay in here. He told us to not open the doors… and then… then he started saying stuff."

Tanya tilted her head.

"What kind of stuff?"

Mia hesitated, looking over her shoulder as if someone might be listening. Her voice dropped to a whisper.

"He said… um… that you weren't really in charge anymore. That things were… different now. Everybody was scared, but then he started saying we'd be okay if we just followed him. He… he told us he'd handle giving out the food himself, that it'll keep things fair and calm."

Tanya felt her stomach tighten. Behind her, Justin's footsteps slowed to a stop. He didn't interrupt, just listened.

Mia's lips trembled as she added.

"A-and… He said something else, under his breath. Ever since seeing the weird screen, my hearing got better… but he said, "Can't let good supplies go to waste, not after all that effort." I don't really know what that means, but…."

Tanya's gentle smile faltered for the first time. She placed a hand lightly on Mia's shoulder, steadying the girl's shaking frame.

"You did good, Mia,"

Tanya said quietly.

"You told me what I needed to know."

Mia nodded, her eyes darting nervously toward the cafeteria doors.

Tanya straightened slowly, the soft expression hardening into something sharper. She turned her head just enough to meet Justin's gaze over her shoulder.

"Did you hear that?" she asked under her breath.

Justin's jaw tightened. He gave a single, grim nod.

The distant laughter from the cafeteria echoed down the corridor like a cruel reminder. Tanya's grip tightened on the metal rod, the calm in her voice running thin.

Justin exhaled before saying,

"Let's go see the mess that was made while we were gone."

Stepping past her, his shoes hit the tile with a rhythm that carried the weight of everything they just fought.

Tanya took one last look at Mia, brushing a braid from the girl's face.

"Stay here, okay? Stay with the others."

Mia nodded quickly, retreating back toward the wall as Tanya rose to follow Justin.

Together, they closed the distance to the double doors—each step heavier than the last, each breath thick with ash and anticipation—until Justin pushed them open.

***

The double doors opened with a groan as Justin shoved them wide.

The cafeteria's warmth hit them first, the air thick with the smell of reheated rations and sweat. People were gathered; some stood, others sat, but conversations quickly cut off mid-sentence as heads turned; the crowd that had been full of laughter and relief moments ago fell into cold, watchful silence.

Their eyes were drawn to the group silhouetted in the doorway. Upon seeing them enter, a handful clapped... but most didn't; they just stared silently—waiting. 

'Hey Pathway, is this usually how a hero's welcome is?'

[No, Justin, it isn't.]

'Figured.'

With that thought—a hush fell over the room. And then, cutting through that silence, came a low, measured voice from the center of the room. 

"Well," 

Demarco said, rising slowly from his chair. The metal legs screeched against the floor, deliberate and grating. He set the can and spoon aside with a strange calm. 

"Look who finally came back." 

He wasn't surprised at their sudden appearance, of course; he already knew they were on their way back; instead... he was pleased. 

"You've got the whole shelter buzzing," 

He slowly clapped before continuing.

"Handled the beasts with a boom... huh? Hell of a job—really hell of a job." 

No one in the room moved. Some looked at Justin and Tanya like saviors; others glanced nervously at DeMarco—unsure which side of the coin they were supposed to land on. 

Then his eyes slid past Justin and stopped on Tanya.

"I missed that beautiful face by the second, Ms. Brooks." 

Her smile came quickly, but the bite in her voice was sharper. 

"It pains me to say I didn't feel the same, DeMarco." 

A few people chuckled, but Justin's focus was elsewhere. His gaze swept the room; he saw a barricade made around the food and two men stationed near it, clutching pipes like they were spears. And he saw DeMarco standing in front of it all, like some sort of... king

Justin stepped in further, each footfall weighted. 

"You've been busy." 

DeMarco's smile widened, but there was... malice hidden within. 

His fingers drummed against the table, slowly—deliberately.

"Someone had to keep things under control while our 'leader' was gone. I'm shocked, Tanya. What 'leader' just ups and leaves without warning like that?" 

The crowd's gaze landed on Tanya. 

"He's kind of right..."

"Yeah, she could've told us about their plan beforehand..." 

With a mere sentence he'd caused Tanya's image in the minds of a few in the crowd to waver. Tanya's mouth opened and closed a couple of times, but she couldn't string together any words, thankfully—she didn't have to. 

"Urgent problems call for urgent solutions; you saw how relentless the hounds were. If we hadn't acted how we did... the situation could've been way worse than it was." 

Justin spoke for her, earning the attention of everyone in the cafeteria. 

"And if anything, without her I doubt you fucks would've even lasted this long. We didn't fight out there—for you, to come back to this." 

A ripple passed through the crowd—uneasy murmurs. DeMarco tilted his head, feigning confusion.

"This? You mean safety? Order? Look around; people are calm and fed. We're making sure nothing goes to waste." 

Justin's eyes narrowed, the fatigue in them burning off into something sharper.

"Sure, but who decided you were in charge? Did you hear everyone's opinion beforehand? Was everyone really happy with the amount they were given? Did you even care enough to ask?" 

Those murmurs from before grew louder; Justin's words resonated deeply with the thoughts of most in the crowd.

Demarco's smile thinned. 

"Sometimes,"

"You remind people who's looking out for them, who's keeping them alive." 

Justin didn't bother to answer; he closed the final few steps between himself and DeMarco, ash still falling from his sleeves. The weight of the depot's fire still clung to him like a second skin. 

The room held its breath—Avalon itself, it seemed, holding its breath—as the two men faced each other, a silent challenge hanging in the air. Outside, the sky beyond the windows burned a deeper red. The city waited. 

And inside, so did everyone else.