The Spare's Second Chance in Apocalypse-Chapter 88: Ch : For Justice- Part 2

In the dim, crumbling streets of the abandoned part of town, shadows twisted like living things.

The unknown awakener sprinted through the narrow alleys, her breath ragged, every step a desperate bid for freedom.

Her heart thundered in her chest, drowning out the sound of her own footfalls.

She could still hear them—her chasers—moving through the darkness, their presence a constant pressure at her back.

’I-I need to run! I need to get away before I am caught. I do not want to die-’

She darted through a gap between two leaning buildings, her shoulder scraping against brick, but she didn’t dare slow down.

The street ahead opened up, and for a brief, fleeting moment, hope flared in her chest. If she could just make it to the next block, maybe she could lose them.

Maybe she could finally be free.

’Just a little more! Freedom is in sight! I finally managed to make it out after such a long time. I cannot go back in there-’

But her body collided with something solid, and the world spun as she tumbled backward, landing hard on the cracked pavement.

Pain shot through her palms as she braced her fall, and she bit back a cry.

The person she had crashed into stood tall above her, his wheat-blond hair catching the meager light.

His face was gentle, his expression almost boyish, as if he belonged anywhere but here.

He crouched down, offering a hand, and his lips curled into a small, unassuming smile.

"Are you alright?"

He asked, his voice soft and warm.

The female awakener stared at his outstretched hand, then at his face, searching for deceit and finding none.

Beautiful face framed by beautiful hair and a beautiful pair of eyes made the man look like he was out of this world. It made hope flash inside the female escapee.

She hesitated, then grasped his hand, allowing him to pull her to her feet.

"Please. You have to help me. They’re after me. I cannot go back!"

She breathed, her voice barely more than a whisper.

The man’s brows knit together, his concern deepening. It seemed as if God had heard her prayers and decided to help her out.

"Who’s after you?"

She opened her mouth to respond, but her voice was drowned out by the sudden appearance of her pursuers.

They stepped out of the shadows, a half-dozen men with hard eyes and blades gleaming under the sparse light.

"There she is."

One of them said, his voice rough with satisfaction.

The female awakener’s fingers tightened on the man’s sleeve, her nails digging into the fabric.

"Please. They’re dangerous. You have to help me!"

She pleaded.

The wheat-haired man blinked, his gentle demeanor unchanging.

"Dangerous?"

She nodded frantically, her body trembling.

"Yes. Yes, they’ll—"

Her sentence was cut short as the world went black. The last thing she felt was a sharp pain at the base of her skull, and then nothing.

The female’s unconscious body slumped forward, and the wheat-haired man held her by the collar of her jacket, keeping her from hitting the ground.

He regarded her with a mild curiosity, as if he had simply picked up a stray cat.

One of the chasers approached him, his posture deferential.

"Boss, you caught her?"

The man—no longer the picture of innocence—nodded.

"Get her secured. We’ll take her back to the compound."

The others moved quickly, binding the female awakener’s wrists and gagging her.

The wheat-haired man watched with a detached air, his earlier softness replaced by something far colder.

As they disappeared into the shadows once more, silence reclaimed the abandoned street, leaving no trace of the struggle behind.

"Another one, huh? I wonder why they all keep trying to run away, when all I want to do is save them."

______

Meanwhile, across town, warm water cascaded over Selene’s skin, steaming away the grime and exhaustion of the past week.

She leaned her forehead against the cool tile, letting the spray soothe her aching muscles.

Her mind, however, refused to still.

Her recent reunion with Noah and Nora had left a lingering heaviness in her chest, but also a sense of closure.

She had said what needed to be said, drawn the lines where they needed to be drawn. Now, she could finally look forward—toward her own goals, her own life.

Selene turned off the shower and wrapped herself in a fluffy towel. As she toweled off her hair, her mind drifted to the plans she had been mulling over.

The support center.

Her lips curled into a small smile.

She had been dreaming of a safe haven for support-oriented hunters—those like herself who were often overlooked and undervalued.

A place where they could train, find resources, and gain confidence in their abilities. Somewhere they wouldn’t be seen as liabilities but as vital members of any team.

It was time.

She stepped out of the bathroom, steam billowing behind her, and entered her bedroom. Her towel was wrapped securely around her, her skin still flushed from the hot water.

She ran a hand through her damp hair, mentally listing all the things she needed to do to make the support center a reality.

But her thoughts scattered the moment she noticed him.

Ethan sat on her bed, his back against the headboard, one leg propped up casually.

His face was buried in a book, but at the sound of her entrance, he lowered it, revealing a pair of dark, inquisitive eyes.

Selene’s grip on the towel tightened. "Ethan? What are you doing here?"

He raised an eyebrow, his expression a blend of amusement and apology.

"You left the door unlocked. I thought I’d wait for you."

"In my room?"

He shrugged, the motion lazy and unbothered.

"You said we needed to discuss the support center plans. I figured you wouldn’t mind."

Selene huffed, cheeks warming—not just from the shower.

"You could’ve waited downstairs."

"But then I wouldn’t get to see you turn this lovely shade of red."

He teased, the corner of his mouth curling up.

Selene rolled her eyes but couldn’t quite hide her irritation at his words. "Turn around."