Instead of replying, Tanya pulled open every cupboard she could reach.

"You got any paper?"

Olena grinned. "Finders keepers"

Tanya snorted. "So you don't know then?"

A few doors later, she noticed a stack of scribbed out blueprints and slapped one on the counter face down. She pinned the corners with grease bottles, and began drawing the city as fast as her hand could move. If she angled the paper with her Interface just right, she could line the districts up and trace cleanly.

Olena caught on immediately and crowded close, chin nearly on Tanya's shoulder. Together they worked their way down the river, speckling points through Poplar and up toward Hackney. Olena's finger moved faster with every marker drop. She drew connecting lines, looping each dot into a single sweeping route, a courier circuit she could run in the air, picking people up at set stops and ferrying them back.

By the time the route was scrawled, Olena was vibrating with barely-contained excitement. She snatched the finished map clean off the counter and crowed, "Be prepared. I will be back later with many people!"

She twirled once in the air, fists punching imaginary controls. "Ooo! Engine at full! Wings? Check! Safety… who needs?" She let out a whoop and then shot forward, vanishing down the street in a blur of scarf and laughter.

Tanya jogged after her. "Only bring people who want to come here! Tell them about the Estate and how I could help with tattoos. Ask them first!"

Olena shot skyward, shouting back, "Ask, ask, ask—British people so dramatic about manners!"

Tanya just laughed, shaking her head as the mech suit vanished into the clouds. It felt like something straight out of an anime. Even in the apocalypse, sometimes something so crazy happened that Tanya thought about pinching herself.

She began the journey back to the shop, regretting not asking Olena for a ride there. It gave her time to think, planning the tattoos she'd made for Adder's men and how she could fit it all in under such a tight schedule.

Back at the shop, the familiar ink smell settled around her like the feel of home.

The rest of the afternoon blurred into a warm hum of Sharpie ink and machine buzz. Tanya worked down her legs in measured rows, Concentration so high now she could treat the needle's sting like background weather. Offence first: a matched pair of axes, a heavy sword with a slow arc but brutal scaling, and a bow-and-arrow build for anyone with enough Vitality to burn draw cost without fainting like a Regency-era extra. With Adder's crowd, there was always the possibility some brick-wall of a man could funnel half his HP bar into a single arrow and call it strategy.

Hours slipped by in full focus.

Mrs Eceer wandered through intermittently, muttering about the architectural insults of warding something "that darn tall" in Hackney, then accepting reheated coffee with a sigh of resignation. The shop felt busy in that quiet, lived-in way, Tanya's passive uh-huh's to whoever was passing through and whatever bubbling pot of food was on the aga.

The next morning, Tanya summoned Assistant, happy with her game plan. Assistant could tattoo on the Sharpie designs while Tanya drew more. She moved on to unique support ideas now; everything from tracking devices to invisibility cloaks. And when she ran out of cool ideas, she just made healing summons. No one could have too much healing, right?

"Hey, you're really gettin' good at that," Tanya remarked, staring down at the fine linework on a teleporting dagger. She stretched out her shoulders.

'Bout a third of today's designed so far. Not too bad.

They were halfway through lunch when the shop door swung open, and Ian stepped in, showing off the superhero costume summon. The cardboard chestplate she'd tattooed on him days ago gleamed under a new layer of varnish, duct tape trimmed neatly along the edges like armour plating. It still looked gloriously homemade, but now it sat on him like he'd grown into it. It must have levelled multiple times to look so different.

Tanya brightened immediately. "Oi, look at you," she said, wiping her hands and circling him like a tailor inspecting a suit. "I haven't seen it on you since the day I inked it. Show me. How's it fitting? What are these changes?"

Ian stood a little taller. "I get these options to add parts each time it levels, so I've got one that can block melee attacks and—look—this extra layer of cape looks really cool, but it can also make me fly! Well, float…briefly. It's Level 6 now. Seems to level with me."

"Six?" Tanya whistled. "Someone's been busy."

He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "That's the thing—I've been levelling like mad. The costume gives me stat boosts now. And… well—" He hesitated, excitement practically leaking through his grin. "I think I've figured something out."

She nudged him toward the counter so she could sit down and keep tattooing."Go on then, genius. Tell me."

He leaned on the counter like someone about to unveil a conspiracy board.

"Most people are going to have their lives reshaped by monster cores soon, right? Businesses, constructs, electricity… all the big changes come from them. So instead of me hunting errands or escort jobs, I'm letting people come to me. Anyone afraid to travel alone—or in groups—can call me over. I protect them on their route, grab the monster cores from whatever tries to eat them, then redistribute those cores to the people who need them most."

Tanya blinked. "You turned escort quests into a civic service pipeline."

"Yes." He grinned. "With loot. Ethical loot."

"Genuinely smart, Ian."

Tanya continued her linework, listening to him rattle off half a dozen routes, three near-death scrapes, and one woman who'd cried on him because a core let her bring back her bakery.

He hesitated again."Oh—also, my Concentration went up last mission. Unlocked a load of old stuff in my head. I remembered proper BSL. Structure and everything. Been practising." He signed something that neither Tanya nor Assistant could understand.

Assistant perked up, scrawling FINALLY on a nearby piece of paper.

Tanya opened her mouth to protest—not because she didn't want Assistant learning, but because she felt the familiar pinch of losing her extra pair of hands during crunch time. But she swallowed it. Some things mattered more.

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"If you're teaching it, take your time," she said gently.

Ian gave a decisive thumbs-up. "We'll practise on the walk. I'm heading to Poplar—someone needs escorting across the canals. Perfect chance to teach directional signs."

Assistant scawled a quick SEE YOU SOON, then trotted after him, the cardboard-hero summon bouncing slightly with Ian's stride.

"I forgot to ask. You gonna be at the fight?" Tanya asked before he disappeared.

"It'll be my final test before I go and get my little girl back." He smiled, eyes full of hope.

The door swung shut behind them, leaving the shop quieter, but better for it.

Tanya exhaled, drew another guideline across her shin, and kept going.

Day slid into evening.

She finished another row of tattoos. Locked in more designs. By the time she wiped down her station, her hands were stained, her muscles buzzing, and her mind pleasantly worn out.

She leaned back against the counter, brow damp, chest rising in slow, proud breaths.

It was on the way to refill her water that she spotted Ishita.

At first, Tanya thought she was clearing debris—dragging a rusted-out shell of a car down the street one way, then back the other. But when Ishita turned, the pinched concentration on her face was unmistakable. There was purpose there. Fire. Determination wrapped in a body still healing from its zombie-stiffness.

Mrs Eceer had mentioned something about the Martyr woman's plan to lift her stats high enough to repair her own cursed flesh.

Seeing it in motion was different.

Tanya stood there too long, torn between wanting to help and knowing she couldn't interrupt someone rebuilding their life from the marrow outward.

Still… water wouldn't hurt.

Tanya stepped outside with two bottles—hers and the spare—and walked toward the groaning metal scrape of Ishita dragging the old car.

Up close, the effort was brutal. Ishita's hands trembled on the bumper, jaw tight, sweat streaming. But her eyes… her eyes were sharp and fiercely alive.

Tanya held out the bottle. "Water?'

Ishita collapsed onto the bonnet with a groan.

"This is…" She gulped water. "It's like the worst parts of PE from back in school, but I'm choosing to be here."

Tanya snorted. "Voluntarily is debatable. You look like someone dared you."

Ishita's smile flickered—brief, involuntary, the kind Tanya remembered from long nights planning scavenger runs together. But then a little stiffness crept in, like the moment she remembered who she was talking to. Her gaze dipped. The bottle twisted in her fingers.

"Sorry," Ishita said softly, attempting to laugh it off. "I'm… rambling. I know you're busy."

Tanya waved that off with a flick of her wrist. "Busy doesn't mean I've turned into a brick wall. I can multitask, you know."

Ishita huffed a small laugh, the tension in her shoulders easing—just a millimetre, but noticeable. She ran her thumb along the condensation on the bottle, studying it like it held safer eye contact.

"I'm trying," she said after a moment. "To get stronger. To… not look the way I've looked for months. Fahad keeps pretending he doesn't worry, but he does."

"Yeah," Tanya said, softer. "Kids do that. They try to make the world easier for you."

Ishita swallowed, throat working. "And you're… helping everyone, again. I'm proud of you, you know? Even if it's weird to say that out loud now."

The words hit with an old familiarity Tanya had missed more than she'd admitted. She nudged Ishita's shoulder lightly—not enough to jostle, just enough to say I hear you.

"It doesn't have to stay weird," Tanya said. "We're allowed to be people about things."

Ishita let out a breath that wasn't quite a sigh, wasn't quite relief. "Maybe."

Then the flat door a few doors down banged open.

"TANYA!"

Fahad barrelled out, a lanky blur of limbs and excitement. He skidded on the pavement, nearly tripping, then righted himself with a dramatic flourish he definitely practised.

"Tanya, you promised—well, you didn't promise, but you should have promised—you'd come see my lantern!"

He stopped dead when he noticed Ishita, eyes widening. "Uh—sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt—"

Ishita groaned into her bottle. "Fahad, sweetheart, volume."

"I am being quiet," he whispered at full shout.

Tanya snorted. "Trust me, you're fine. And I did say I'd come by. Apocalypse scheduling is a nightmare, but I'm here now."

Fahad straightened, shoulders rising with pride, like being acknowledged officially upgraded him a whole level. "Good. Because I've been practising! And Mum says I shouldn't keep activating it indoors because the ceiling is not 'rated for magical heat events.'"

Tanya raised her brows at Ishita, then turned to Fahad.

"It makes heat now? Good on ya… uhhh I mean, yes definitely don't do that inside."

Ishita pinched the bridge of her nose. "He set off the smoke alarm. I didn't even know it still had batteries in it."

"It was barely smoke," Fahad insisted. "More like… warm mist."

"Warm mist isn't supposed to be made of actual light," Ishita said.

"Go on then," Tanya said. "Show me what you've got before your mum drags us both back inside."

Fahad lit up—literally. The small lantern tattoo shimmered under his skin, a flicker of gold pulsing once, twice, before pulsing out of his skin and into his hand. He tugged Tanya eagerly toward the wider patch of pavement by the estate wall.

Ishita watched them go, then called after them, "Fahad, careful. Don't do the jump you tried yesterday. You nearly broke one of our only remaining windows."

"It's fine!" he yelled back. "Tanya can catch me!"

Tanya glanced over her shoulder with a helpless shrug. "He believes in me more than my knees do."

Ishita gave her a look—fond, wry, and still a little uncertain around the edges. "Thank you. For… this."

"I'm waitin' for me vitality to go up anyway," Tanya said. "And I wanna be here."

Ishita smiled. "Go on. Before he actually tries to jump off something."

Tanya jogged to catch up with Fahad, who was already vibrating with anticipation like a firework on a hair trigger.

"Okay," Tanya said, planting her feet. "Lantern time. Impress me."

Fahad inhaled like he was powering up an engine. The lantern in his hand flared, then unfolded, panels of gold-edged light rotating out from the centre like an origami sunburst. A handle formed beneath his grip; shadows around his feet quivered, then snapped into alignment as though saluting.

"Oh," Tanya murmured. "Yeah, that's definitely more than warm mist."

"Watch this!" He swung the lantern in a loose arc. The shadows stretching behind the estate wall peeled up from the ground and followed the motion like a ribbon of ink. For a heartbeat, they billowed behind him in a dramatic cape shape before snapping back flat.

Tanya barked out a delighted laugh. "You've been practising your entrances."

He beamed. "Entrances are important! Ian said if you don't enter like a hero, you fight like someone who forgot their homework."

"That… sounds like Ian."

"Now the jump," Fahad announced grandly—already halfway through winding up.

"Within reason!" Tanya warned.

He nodded solemnly. Then, with the seriousness of a boy about to perform the single coolest move of his entire life, he lifted the lantern overhead. Light pooled beneath his trainers, thickening into a pale gold disc. He pushed off—and instead of a jump, he blinked upward, reappearing mid-air a couple of metres higher with a soft shadow-pop.

Tanya's jaw dropped. "You can teleport upwards now?"

"Only tiny bits," he said as he landed—graceful-ish—on the pavement. "It's like… stepping between the dark bits. But the lantern has to be on, or it feels like getting stuck in a cupboard."

Tanya clapped once, loud and sincere. "That's incredible, Fahad."

He flushed with pride, cheeks shining. "Mum still makes me practise with cushions on the floor, though. She thinks I'll fall through a shadow and get my arm stuck in the wall."

"That is a very reasonable fear."

He considered that, then nodded. "Yeah. I did almost lose a shoe yesterday."

Tanya wheezed. "Fahad—"

He wasn't done. He swung the lantern again, and the shadows obeyed, this time spiralling upward and coiling around him like a swirling scarf before dissolving into a harmless burst of dark glitter. The lantern refolded itself in his hand, shrinking back down into a small, warm charm etched into his wrist.

He looked up at her, eyes wide, waiting—wanting—to be seen.

Tanya crouched, bracing her elbows on her knees. "Look at you. That's proper hero stuff. Like… season-three power-up level."

Fahad grinned so hard it looked like it hurt. He shifted on his feet, then leaned forward, lowering his voice as though sharing classified intel.

"Mum says…" He swallowed, chest puffing up with cautious hope. "Mum says if I keep training like this… I might even be able to help in the boss fight."

Tanya's breath hitched, not disagreement, just the weight of what that meant coming from a kid who'd seen too much already.

She reached out and fixed the collar of his too-big hoodie. "If—and only if—your mum says so," she said. "But… honestly? You're on your way."

Fahad glowed brighter than the lantern ever had.

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