"He told you that?" Lucian’s face was covered with guilt as Medeia recounted Max’s past.
They had moved Max to another room, somewhere safer to discuss their little secret. Medeia had wanted to tie him up just in case, but Lucian had stopped her, insisting they should let him rest properly on the bed.
"Yes, he did." Medeia sat on a chair, her fingers idly running through Bear’s thick fur as the wolf rested its massive head on her lap. The wolf refused to leave her side, not even an inch, as if sensing the danger of sharing a room with a man who wanted her dead.
Like father, like son.
Lucian let out a sigh, brushing a hand through his hair. "His surname is Adler?" He took a step toward Max, his gaze moving on the unconscious man. He watched Max’s features carefully, as if searching for a memory buried deep in his past.
"Yes, his full name is Max Adler." Medeia tilted her head slightly. "Do you remember something? About his brother?"
Lucian didn’t answer right away. He stood still, lost in thought, before nodding slowly. "Viktor Adler. He was three years older than me. A good soldier ... I remember he had a little brother, probably around ten at the time."
He let out a heavy sigh. "If my brother were still alive ... he’d probably be as big as Max by now." His voice was soft, almost as if he were speaking more to himself than to her.
Medeia stood up and walked over to Lucian, placing a hand on his back. She gave him a light pat, a silent way of saying, You’re not alone.
Lucian let out a breath and gave her a small smile. "I’m okay, sweetheart." His voice was soft, but there was something heavy beneath it. "It’s just ... it’s been a long time since I let myself think about my life in the army."
"You don’t have to tell me anything if it’s too painful." Medeia wrapped an arm around his waist, leaning into him. "I know it’s not easy to remember things ."
She didn’t like talking about the painful parts of her past either. It felt suffocating, as if something was gripping her heart so tightly, making it hard to breathe, let alone think clearly.
If even she—a demon—found it difficult to confront her past, how much heavier must the burden be for a human like him?
"With you, it’s a little easier." Lucian hesitated for a moment before resting his chin against her hair, his arms tightening around her.
"And I need to remember," Lucian said, his fingers tightening around hers. "Because the more I try to forget, the more it feels like I’m just running away. And I know, I can’t keep running forever."
"I have to face it now, whether I like it or not," he continued, "He’s my responsibility from now on."
Medeia’s gaze softened. "You know he won’t listen to you."
Lucian gave a small, tired smile. "I know. But I’d rather try than let him die—than kill him, like I killed his brother or my brother."
There was a long silence between them.
"What if he tells the others?" she asked eventually.
Lucian took a deep breath. "What else can I do? I’ve spent years trying to bury this, but I know the truth always finds a way to surface. If people find out ... if they want me gone, then I’ll go."
He had spent years wandering alone. If he had to leave, he could do it again. But even so, he had grown attached to this place and leaving wouldn’t be as simple as walking away.
Wasn’t that ridiculous?
Both of them had built this base from the ground up, poured their blood, sweat, and soul into it.
And why should it be him? Why should the one who fought the hardest be the one to leave? Wouldn’t it make more sense to drive out those who stood against them?
But then again, this was Lucian—a man who carried 99 kindness points in his heart. Medeia never expected him to suddenly turn into a dictator, and he certainly didn’t want to turn her into a leader who ran the base with an iron fist.
And so, she only smiled.
"Then I’ll follow you," she murmured, lifting her head to see his face. "Wherever you go, I’ll go. If we have to leave, we’ll build another place, and start over again. Because it doesn’t matter where we are, as long as we’re together that will be our home.."
She finally understood what people meant when they said a house wasn’t the same as a home. She used to think it was just sentimental nonsense. A house was a house. A home was just another word for it.
But now, she knows the truth.
A house was just a structure.
A home was where she felt safest. Where she belonged.
And Lucian was her home.
She would never leave her home.
Lucian let out a small chuckle, breaking the moment. "Do you think we should take Sierra with us?"
Medeia laughed softly. "She’s quiet. At least she won’t be attracting monsters with her loud cry."
Not long after, they heard a knock at the door. "Miss Medeia, I’m here," Joy called from outside.
Medeia opened the door, stepping aside to let her in. "I heard you examined some of the soldiers in the meeting room."
"Yes, that’s right." Joy nodded as she walked in. "I was planning to discuss my findings with you later, but since you called me now, we can go over them right away."
Joy had used her ability–Life Spectrum Vision–to conduct a full physical examination of the soldiers. Her vision worked like an advanced X-ray, but instead of just seeing through bodies, it highlighted the source of any illness or abnormality with distinct colors.
Physically, there was nothing wrong with them. Even those who had briefly transformed into the Lost had reverted to normal human physiology.
"They don’t have any diseases," Joy explained. "And unlike most people suffering from malnutrition, they actually have perfect nutritional balance–enough vitamins and minerals to suggest they’ve been living in a modern, resource-rich environment rather than an apocalyptic wasteland."