The morning dawned grey and cold.
Mist clung to the ground, softening the sound of hammer strikes and shouted orders. Haven was alive with motion — the rhythm of rebuilding had become its own kind of heartbeat.
Ethan walked the length of the new wall, nodding to workers as they hauled stone and timber. The cistern shimmered faintly with clean water, and the half-built houses almost looked like homes. The smell of sweat and smoke filled the air, but for once, there was no fear beneath it.
Marcus and Keith argued near the gate about wall height while Ravi darted between groups, notebook in hand. For a moment, Ethan allowed himself to breathe.
This… this was progress.
But peace never lasted long anymore.
---
Inside the hall, the council gathered again — though "council" was generous. The same faces, only more tired.
"We need supplies," Ethan said, palms flat on the table. "And cores. After the builds, we're nearly at zero credit. If we can't keep the balance up, construction stops — and so does everything else."
Marcus grunted. "Then we hunt."
"Exactly." Ethan nodded. "Two parties. Darren, you take the north ridge — fast and light. Caleb, you take the Titan Bloods south through the hills. Bring back what you can, but don't take risks. If it looks too big, walk away."
Darren inclined his head. "We'll be careful."
Caleb's jaw tightened. "We'll bring something back worth the effort."
Ethan looked between them. "Every core and kill strengthens Haven. The gods reward progress — so let's use that."
Ravi scribbled the assignments in his ledger. "Ten mutants hunted, twenty cores delivered. Total gain: one hundred credits."
Ethan managed a faint smile. "Enough for watchtowers."
Keith chuckled from where he leaned on his staff. "Eyes on the horizon — I like it."
The meeting broke. Boots thudded, weapons clinked. Hope — cautious and brittle — hung in the air.
---
By midday, Haven's perimeter was alive.
Caleb's group marched out first, armor dented but steady. Darren's team followed, vanishing into the fog.
Work continued: hammering, sawing, the stubborn song of survival.
Then the sound came — a sharp, high-pitched hiss from the treeline. Not human. Not wind.
Ethan's pulse jumped. Aria's spider.
He sprinted toward the noise, Keith and Marcus on his heels.
At the eastern barricade, Aria stood frozen near the edge of her spider's web. The massive creature crouched low, legs taut, fangs glistening. The web shimmered like rope in the dim light — and something large was trapped in its center, thrashing weakly.
"What is it?" Ethan demanded, sliding to a stop.
Aria's hands shook. "I think it's one of them — a mutant. It got caught. She's waiting for me to command."
Marcus's hammer rose instinctively. "Then give the order. End it before it breaks loose."
"Wait." Ethan stepped closer, eyes narrowing. His Essence Sight flared — and the world sharpened.
Through the haze of corruption, he saw it: a faint human spark inside the creature's chest, flickering weakly but still alive.
"He's not gone," Ethan said quietly. "Not yet."
Keith frowned. "You've used your reversal once already—"
Ethan shook his head. "I saved it."
He turned to Aria. "Tell her to hold. Don't kill it."
Aria hesitated, then laid a hand on the spider's leg. "Hold," she whispered. The beast froze, its eyes glinting in the half-light.
Ethan knelt beside the cocooned form, pressing his palm to the web. "All right, kid," he murmured. "Let's see if there's anything left to pull back."
---
Green-white threads flared from his arm, spreading through the silk.
The air stank of rot and ozone. The mutant's ragged breathing faltered, and Ethan felt corruption claw at him — cold and alive, writhing up his veins.
He gritted his teeth and pushed harder.
For a long, terrible moment, nothing happened.
Then the cocoon convulsed — and the air split with a scream.
The sound was human.
Terrified.
Alive.
The web shuddered once, then collapsed. Ethan fell back, gasping; Marcus caught him before he hit the dirt.
The silk split open, and a boy spilled out — maybe fifteen. Pale, shaking, slick with sweat. His eyes darted wildly, unfocused.
He coughed once, then stared up at Ethan like he was seeing light for the first time.
Marcus muttered, "You've got to be kidding."
Ethan wiped sweat from his brow. "He's alive."
Keith knelt beside the boy, studying the faint glow around him. "Barely. But the corruption's gone. You actually purged it."
The boy's voice cracked. "Wh-where am I? What happened? My head—"
"You were turning," Ethan said softly. "You're safe now. Just breathe."
---
Golden script shimmered above the boy's head.
> Congratulations, Survivor.
You have been restored.
Choose your Path.
Timer: 00:59…
The boy gasped, eyes flicking between the words and their faces. "Wh-what is that?"
Marcus took a wary step back. "He gets another chance? After that?"
Keith's tone was quiet. "The System doesn't waste what it can still use."
Ethan rested a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Focus. You've got one minute. Don't panic — just listen to the voice in your head. Choose what feels right."
The timer ticked down. The boy closed his eyes, trembling. Light built around him — once, twice — then faded.
A faint pulse of energy rolled outward, harmless but strange.
When he opened his eyes again, the panic was gone, replaced by something steadier.
"I… remember," he whispered. "My name's Riley."
Ethan exhaled slowly. "Welcome back, Riley."
Marcus crossed his arms. "Let's hope saving him doesn't come back to bite us."
Ethan didn't look away from the boy. "We'll take that chance."
---
By the time the hunters returned that evening, Haven was different.
The walls stood higher, the air warmer, and the people spoke with something almost like hope. Darren's and Caleb's groups brought their kills — enough mutant cores to bathe the hall in gold.
> Tasks Complete.
+100 Credits Earned.
The new balance glowed briefly in the air. Enough for two watchtowers.
Ethan ordered them built before dawn.
As golden lines traced themselves across the dirt, marking where the towers would rise, Ethan looked back toward the infirmary, where Riley slept under clean sheets.
For the first time since the world ended, Ethan didn't just feel like a survivor.
He felt like a builder — someone rebuilding the world, one wall, one life, one fragile chance at a time.