This domed city was the last cradle left to humanity. One hundred thirty years since Earth's air turned to ash, fifteen thousand lives breathe only because a handful of engineers keep century-old machines limping forward—and none more vital than nineteen-year-old Hartin Alec, the youngest Chief Maintenance Technician in the dome's history.
Alec has lived his whole life inside Dome Varos's iron ribs, hated by the veterans he outranks, sustained only by exhaustion, duty, and the quiet companionsh
The Question Blooming on the Star of Ash - Silent Return
No one moved.
The residents gathered in Commons Hall simply stared at Hartin Alec in silence. Not a single sound. Only the low hum of the ventilation fan echoed from somewhere deep in the ceiling.
Alec felt the weight of their gazes settle into his very core.
(No one's coming forward)
His right arm throbbed with pain. The bone shattered by the Gravedigger three months ago. It had mostly healed by now. But at times like this, the old pain always seemed to return.
Time passed slowly.
Fear and confusion were written across the residents' faces. No one would meet his eyes. The man who had once been driven out of this place like a stone was cast at them had returned, now wielding overwhelming power. No one knew what to say.
(That's only natural)
Alec thought to himself. He harbored resentment. But hating the residents wouldn't give him answers. What he wanted was just one thing—a single answer.
Then, from the back of the crowd, there was a small movement.
A young man stepped forward hesitantly. Thin build, probably still in his late teens. An apprentice technician's mark was sewn onto the chest of his work clothes. His trembling hands gripped a tool bag.
(That's... Tobias, isn't it?)
Alec remembered that face. An apprentice he'd instructed a few times in the engine section three months ago. He recalled the serious expression on the boy's face when he'd taught him how to connect wiring.
"Vain Silas is..."
Tobias's voice was hoarse. His throat sounded terribly parched.
"Right now, he's... shut away in the upper levels. Ever since he became the highest seat three days ago... he hasn't come down once."
At those words, something cold spread through Alec's chest.
(Three days ago... just as Lana said)
The information he'd heard in the wasteland was now confirmed by the mouth of the boy standing before him. All five members of the council had chosen Vain Silas in just three days. It must have been decided from the start.
"...I see."
Alec answered briefly. He consciously kept anger out of his voice.
He clenched his back teeth hard. He wanted to rush up to the upper levels right now. He wanted to stand before Vain Silas, even if it meant breaking through walls.
But—
(No... that's not right)
Alec looked around. Only a small fraction of the fifteen thousand residents were gathered here. Faces frozen in fear, trembling shoulders, yet still standing without fleeing. Using force to push through this place wasn't the right way.
(What I want is answers. Not to rampage)
He told himself that. Over three months in the wasteland, he hadn't just learned how to use power. He'd also learned when not to use it.
"...I'll wait until tonight."
Alec said it. His voice was low but clear.
The air in the hall seemed to relax slightly.
Then, from within the crowd, another figure stepped forward. An elderly woman. Her back was slightly bent, her white hair tied back. She held a thick blanket in both hands.
"...Come here."
The woman's voice was small, but it didn't waver.
"You... those wounds of yours... have you had them properly looked at?"
Alec hesitated for a moment before answering. He couldn't quite remember who this person was. Yet her face was definitely familiar from distant memories. A resident he'd occasionally seen in the dining hall of the residential quarters.
"...No."
He answered curtly. His voice came out harder than he'd intended.
Without saying anything, Maida pressed the blanket into Alec's hands. It was rough and somewhat old. But its weight transmitted through his arm.
(What... is this?)
Something warm spread through his chest. Three months ago, in this place, he'd been shoved outside covered in blood. Back then, no one had reached out to him. No one had spoken to him.
Now, a single blanket lay in his hands.
(How can something so simple... be so heavy?)
Alec said nothing, simply gripping the blanket.
Murmurs began to spread among the residents. Not just fear—something else mixed into the air. Someone brought a container of water. Someone bowed their head slightly. Still, no one dared approach Alec. But he sensed something different in their gazes now, something that hadn't been there before.
(This doesn't change everything)
(But... maybe it changed something)
***
That night, Alec was led to an old tool room in a corner of the engine section. It was near the room where he used to sleep. The space was cramped and dusty. But it had a roof and walls. It had been three months since he'd slept somewhere protected from the wasteland wind.
Alec sat down on the floor where he'd spread the blanket. He leaned his back against the wall. His body's weight seemed to sink into the floor.
In his palm, the Orbita Key glowed faintly blue.
(When I found this terminal... I never thought I'd come this far)
Memories from three months ago flooded his mind. The day of his exile. The night he was cast into the wasteland covered in blood. The days walking through toxic atmosphere, gathering the remnants of a broken protective mask. The moment he found this terminal in the depths of Station Nine. Being struck by Gald's iron fang, fingers broken. Having his right arm shattered by the Gravedigger, losing consciousness. Lana's voice. Hans's offer. And the night they burned the wasteland encampment.
It all connected to a single path. Sitting here now was what lay at the end of it.
(Vain Silas...)
Alec closed his eyes.
An old voice echoed in the back of his mind. From when the two of them were just childhood friends.
'...Good morning. You're up early again.'
That voice had seemed free of lies. At least, that's how it had appeared to Alec.
(Why?)
(Why did you... send me off with that expression?)
The answer hadn't come yet. It lay beyond the closed door in the upper levels.
Alec slowly opened his eyes.
(Tonight ends here)
(Tomorrow, I'll open that door)
He wrapped the blanket around his body. Even on a hard floor, sleeping under a roof for the first time in so long felt like his strength was draining away in a good way.
Through the tool room's small ventilation opening, outside air drifted in faintly. Beyond it, toward the upper levels, a single light glowed.
(Vain Silas is there)
Alec stared at that light for a while.
It was a quiet glow, as if waiting for something.
He placed the Orbita Key near his chest. The terminal's light pulsed softly in the dark room.
(It's not over yet)
He closed his eyes. Tonight, at least, the wasteland's cold and toxic winds couldn't reach him.
That alone was enough to bring a little peace.
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