After the dishes had been cleared and the quiet hum of the mess hall began to die down, the trio headed out into the fading light, boots crunching softly on the packed dirt as they made their way back to the small huts lining the outer curve of their camp.
Effie stretched her arms high above her head, yawning loudly. "Ugh. I'm telling you, one of these days I'm gonna sleep for twenty-four hours straight. Just knock myself out with a log and call it therapy."
"You mean like that time you actually did knock yourself out tripping over your own spear?" Ray said, raising an eyebrow.
"Hey, that floor was out for blood. I was defending myself."
Henry chuckled from behind his sleeve. "I still remember the thud. Thought the whole hill was collapsing."
Effie groaned dramatically and shoved him. "Traitors, the both of you."
Ray smirked. "To be fair, it was kind of impressive. Not everyone can manage a concussion and a sprained wrist with one fall."
"Keep talking, Mr. Perfect. I'm aiming for a sprained ego next."
They reached the crossroads between their huts, the warm light from inside flickering just faintly through the wooden slats. For a moment, everything seemed so simple - friends, safety, maybe even something like peace, while that was as it may be, Ray couldn't fully relax yet.
Ray paused at his door. "Alright. Try not to die in your sleep."
Henry gave him a lazy wave. "Only if the ghosts are polite tonight."
Effie pointed at him with narrowed eyes. "Don't stay up brooding over your emo runes again."
"I make no promises."
With a last exchange of grins, they disappeared into their respective homes.
Ray waited.
He sat on his bed, not bothering to light a lamp. The minutes crept by. He counted the intervals between footsteps outside, listened as the camp gradually quieted until all that was left were the sounds of distant wind and the shifting of the dark.
Then, with quiet precision, he stood, pulled on his coat, and stepped outside once more.
The night had a stillness to it that felt heavier than usual. The kind that made every sound too loud, every shadow too sharp. Ray made his way through the narrow paths, not hurried, but not lingering either.
The main building stood at the heart of their haven, a looming silhouette with only a couple of lit windows breaking through the darkness. Nephis and Cassie had their rooms there - higher up, more secluded.
Ray didn't plan to visit Nephis again today.
Instead, he moved silently through the hallways until he reached the small wooden door he knew belonged to Cassie.
He paused for a second, exhaled through his nose, and raised a hand to knock.
A quiet tap, deliberate and steady.
---
The door creaked open, revealing a softly lit room inside. Cassie sat by the small desk near the wall, her hands folded neatly in her lap, posture serene. Across from her, standing near the barricaded window, with her back straight and gaze seemingly lost, was Nephis.
Both of them turned as Ray stepped in.
He closed the door behind him with a faint click and leaned against it casually, eyes drifting from one to the other.
"Well," he said lightly, "isn't this cozy."
Nephis didn't reply. Cassie smiled faintly.
"We were just talking," she said softly, voice almost melodic in the quiet.
"Yeah, I figured." Ray's gaze lingered on Nephis for a moment before settling on Cass again. "Hope I'm not interrupting something world changing."
There was a pause. Nephis turned slightly, enough to face him, but didn't move away from the window.
Ray took a few slow steps in. "I was wondering… how much did you really know? About Sunny leaving. About the way things were headed. Basically, everything that happens here."
Neither answered immediately.
"I mean," Ray continued, tone still easy but carrying more weight now, "I never bought the whole saint act. Not from the start. You two, playing your roles, guiding everyone like lost sheep. But me? I've always wondered if there wasn't more going on under the surface. Something colder."
Nephis looked at him, her expression unreadable.
"We've never pretended to be saints," she said. "Only people."
"Yeah," he nodded slowly, "people with plans. Plans you don't like to share."
Cassie shifted slightly in her seat. Her fingers brushed the edge of the desk, barely perceptible, but enough.
"We're doing what we believe we must," she said after a breath. "Nothing more. Nothing less."
Ray looked at her for a long moment, then to Nephis.
"And how many pieces have to break for the board to stay balanced?"
Again, no clear answer. Only silence.
Eventually, Ray exhaled, more out of frustration than anything else. "Alright… fine. Keep your secrets. I just have one last thing."
His voice lost all levity now. Steady, serious.
"How's this all going to end? For us. The cohort. Everyone we've bled with."
Nephis blinked slowly. "We'll endure."
Cassie didn't speak.
But she shifted again, her shoulders tightening ever so slightly. A moment of discomfort passed through her like a breeze brushing the surface of still water. Ray saw it.
That was all he needed.
"Got it," he said, quietly.
He turned back toward the door, hand reaching for the latch. Just before stepping out, he paused.
"One more thing," he added, casually now, like it was just an afterthought. His voice was lighter, almost teasing. "Tell me, Cass… ever seen anything of me? Any flashes, visions, prophecies?"
Cassie shook her head slowly. "No. Not once."
Ray smiled to himself. "Thought so."
He opened the door and stepped out, murmuring under his breath as he walked into the night.
"Not everything's been decided, then."
His eyes scanned the moonlit camp, the quiet rows of sleeping souls, the rows of rundown buildings, if they could even be named as such.
"If needed… I'll be the change that wasn't meant to happen."
There was a pause, and his gaze softened ever so slightly.
"…Still, I'd be lying if I said I cared for all of them. Beyond my friends, the rest... I don't know. Maybe they're just names to me."
He turned his back to the building and started down the path.
"But that doesn't mean I won't try."
His mind was made up, they had an idea where this whole thing was headed, but he, he was a wildcard. His attribute made him nonexistent in the future or the past, making visions of him impossible.
This also meant that whatever future they had seen or planned would not need to ultimately happen as they thought. He would act as he saw fit. To save himself, to save his friends, and should there be anything left by that point, as many people as he could.