Chapter 69
5 4 3 2 1
Six hours left.
IAM's eyes snapped open, breath soft but shallow, sweat damp on his brow.
He stared up at the roof of the tent, breathing slow, chest rising and falling in quiet rhythm.
But something was off.
He felt… tired.
Not physically. This was deeper. A weight that lingered in his chest, heavy and strange.
He slowly rubbed his eyes, trying to blink it away. His hands moved like they were underwater. Sluggish. Detached.
He laid still for a moment, blinking slowly, trying to gather his thoughts.
The nightmares were gone. Or at least… the old ones. The ones about that day. About Mia. About Kon. About Leo. The screaming. The black liquid. The silence afterward. All of it.
They were fading. Bit by bit. Night by night.
Now… there was only the other dream.
The weird one.
The one he could never fully remember.
No color. No sound. Just the sensation of falling… and falling… and falling.
And yet, every time, when he woke up—he assumed it had been a nice dream.
He didn't know why.
He sat up with a yawn, arching his back as a loud crack ran up his spine. His limbs moved slowly, comfortably, like they had all the time in the world.
The tent was dim and quiet.
He slid down from his bunk and nudged the sleeping lump beside him.
"Kepa."
Kepa groaned and shifted, pulling his blanket tighter.
IAM sighed and poked him again, this time a little harder.
Reluctantly, Kepa sat up, hair wild and eyes half-closed. Together, they dressed, their movements slow and clumsy in the early light.
IAM glanced across the tent.
Ryan and Hen still hadn't returned.
He frowned slightly—but didn't say anything.
The silence held steady. Peaceful.
The boys headed for the showers. The walk was quiet, filled only with soft footfalls and breath. The world still felt half-asleep.
The cold water hit like needles. IAM flinched, but welcomed it. The chill cleared the fog in his mind, made his thoughts sharper. Kepa cursed under his breath, shivering beside him.
No one said much. They didn't need to.
After drying off and pulling on their standard hoodie and cargo pants, they drifted toward the food station. The sun hadn't climbed too high yet, casting long, soft shadows across the Hold.
IAM had toast and juice. Kepa loaded his tray with five eggs and toast. IAM gave him a look, and after a moment's grumbling, Kepa added a glass of water to his meal.
IAM sat in the warmth of the canteen, quietly chewing, his heart oddly calm. The food was simple. The air was cold and clean. For some reason, today felt... good. Slow. Gentle.
It was one of those rare mornings where nothing felt like it was about to go wrong.
Five hours left.
They arrived at theory class. Milo stood at the front, looking exactly as he always did—tired, stern, and unreadable.
But today, something... strange happened.
He smiled.
Well—not a full smile. More like a faint twitch at the corner of his mouth. Barely visible. So small that most people wouldn't have noticed.
But they noticed.
The class buzzed with low whispers. Something about today just felt... light.
Like the calmest moment of winter, when the snow settles and the world goes still.
After class, IAM and Kepa headed to the gym. They worked out together, pushing each other, laughing between sets. Their muscles burned in the best way. They worked hard, focused, motivated.
The plan was to relax a bit at the hub, maybe hit one of the leisure rooms, then meet up with the rest of their group for training. If a mission was available, maybe they'd take it.
Everything was normal.
Two hours left.
Back in the showers again—this time to wash off sweat, not sleep. Steam filled the air. Conversation echoed softly. Someone sang off-key in the next row. IAM leaned into the water, eyes closed, letting it rush over him.
They changed, returned to the hub, and spent a little time messing around. Kepa got hooked into a game. IAM tried a training sim and scored better than usual. Nothing extraordinary.
Kepa pulled him into something dumb and competitive. They laughed, joked, bumped shoulders. For a moment, they weren't soldiers. Just people.
This was what peace looked like.
But eventually, the time came to meet up with the rest of their group for team training. They made their way toward the main hallway.
Then they heard it—voices. Loud ones.
The sound of a crowd. Something was going on.
They glanced at each other, then pushed through the growing sea of people.
Six minutes left.
They pushed through the bodies, working their way to the front.
IAM's eyes narrowed.
He recognized some of the people gathered there.
The leader of Ryan's group.
Her arm—gone.
She stood there shaking, wild-eyed, flanked by the co-leader who tried—desperately—to calm her down. But she couldn't be reached. She wasn't in her right mind.
She pointed, trembling with rage and madness, right at Ryan.
Standing in the center.
His expression—tight. Barely holding something in.
She was spitting venom with every word.
"YOU... you liar! Deceiver! Don't trust him! He is NOT human! He wears human skin like a mask! I SAW IT! Those eyes—those eyes are not human!"
Ryan's green eyes flashed sharply. "Karen, calm down. I was under the effects of that spawnling. You know I wouldn't hurt you like that on purpose."
But his voice didn't soothe.
It made her tremble harder.
She screamed, "Because of YOU, it's too late! Look at me!" She thrust her arm—or lack of one—forward. "How can I fight like this?! We don't have a Master-level healer, and Althea can't do shit!"
Althea could heal major injuries like slashes deep cuts and some poisons and ease mental issues but stuff like removed limbs was beyond her level.
She was only at the level of experienced.
"DO NOT fall for it!" Karen shrieked. "I know what I saw. Those RED EYES. They were DEMONIC."
IAM and Kepa looked at each other.
Three minutes left.
The rest of the team stood around him and Karen—quiet. Wounds still healing. Some refused to meet his gaze. None offered him support. They barely managed to keep together and fight off the spawnlings.
The whispers in the crowd clicked his ears.
"What's she talking about?"
"Deceiving us? What's going on?"
"Demon?! Oh HELL no—"
He couldn't even do anything, he couldn't.... silence her in front of all these people.
He couldn't control this.
Ryan could feel it.
The walls crumbling. The whispers swirling.
Everything he had built…
Slipping.
Kepa leaned closer to IAM, whispering, "I told you. I always felt something was off after that crash-out. He tried too hard to play it off. It's not human."
IAM felt something shift inside him.
That flicker of suspicion he'd carried—always faint, never quite solid—was no longer just a gut feeling. After seeing Ryan already forming an Avien back in Raj's workshop, something hadn't sat right. It wasn't the already formed Avien itself. It was the way Ryan acted. The way he always seemed too polished. Too calculated. Like one of those manipulators in stories—the ones who hid behind a friendly face, always in the background… until the twist hit and boom—they were the mastermind behind everything.
Now IAM was starting to feel like he was right.
Damn, he thought. Every novel has one of those guys.
But this wasn't fiction. This was real.
And maybe, just maybe, it was time to act.
He didn't want to blow everything up. Not yet. But maybe he could test the waters—nudge the truth out. Reveal a little piece of the real Ryan. Let everyone see the cracks in that perfect mask.
There was a word—one single word—that Ryan had rambled during his breakdown. It stuck with IAM. Echoed in his head ever since.
He rolled it on his tongue, heart pounding.
Should he?
He glanced around.
People were everywhere. Watching. Talking. Whispering.
It should be fine… right?
He swallowed.
Fuck it.
One minute left.
He could run if it went wrong.
IAM cleared his throat.
Braced himself.
Tensed his legs—just in case.
Then, softly:
"…What a fool."
Barely louder than a whisper.
But Ryan heard it.
His head snapped toward IAM with terrifying speed, like a predator locking onto prey.
His expression—disbelief.
His expression twisted into something horrid.
Then rage.
Ten seconds.
IAM froze, watching Ryan's face twist into something dark, unreadable. A mask falling away.
Nine.
Eight.
Suddenly, a voice echoed across the Hold. Cracking. Layered and distorted.
"It ends… now."
Seven.
Confusion swept the crowd like wind through leaves.
Six.
But Ryan didn't look away.
He stared into IAM's eyes—blood red locked with deep brown so dark they were nearly black.
IAM didn't flinch. He just stared back.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Two.
One.
...
.....
A hand.
Sudden.
Fast.
PIERCED through Ryan's chest from behind.
Blood exploded from his mouth. A sharp gasp.
A sick, wet sound as breath escaped from ruined lungs.
Ryan's eyes widened in disbelief.
He looked down.
At the hand.
At the blood.
Then slowly—up.
At IAM.
Time froze.
The last thing he saw before it all fades to black.
The hand retracts letting corspe land on the floor.
IAM doesn't move.
The blood-soaked hand trembled slightly, trying to flick off the red.
It belonged to—
Hen.
IAM's heart lurched.
Hen stood behind Ryan, eyes empty, calm, cold, quiet.
No last words.
Just blood.
Just silence.
IAM stared, unable to process.
And then—
the world exploded.