Waking up was never easy, be it after a day of hard work, heavy drinking, or just existing in general. That said, this was the first time Isaac had the displeasure of awakening after almost getting burned alive and collapsing in the middle of the battlefield.

To put it simply. It sucked.

A groan slipped from his throat as his eyes fluttered open, only for the sun's glare to stab through them like needles. He squeezed them shut again, opting instead to focus on his body while ignoring all the noise around him. At the very least, he was about ninety percent sure he was still alive.

The bad news, though? He could barely move.

Sure, his fingers twitched a bit at his command, but the rest of him might as well have been encased in stone. His limbs felt distant, like they hadn't caught up with the fact that he was conscious again. Not that it stopped him from feeling all the consequences of his battle with the Minotaur.

Sharp stinging pain somewhere deep inside his chest. Every muscle aching like he had just run a marathon—which, to be fair, he pretty much had. And worst of all, the itchiness.

It was almost everywhere. His arms, legs, scalp. Like ants crawling beneath his skin. Only parts of his torso and back were spared.

Guess that's what I get after being cooked alive…

Still, despite it all, Isaac once more forced his eyes open after turning his head to the side. He blinked a few times, clearing his vision of the remaining glare and blurriness. He succeeded.

Huh… This doesn't look good.

While with the range of movement currently available to him it wasn't easy to inspect his body, it also wasn't impossible. The first thing he noticed? He was almost naked, lying atop some dirty sheet surrounded by debris from a collapsed building.

What caught his attention next? That honor belonged to the raw pink skin on his left arm. A light tilt of his head confirmed the rest of his body didn't look much better. Only his torso looked a bit different with all the bruises and purple marks.

Well, that explains the itchiness. Could've been worse…

With a heavy sigh, he slowly moved his arms, propping himself up. The effort this small action took was ridiculous, but after a few painful seconds, he managed to sit up and get a proper look at his surroundings.

Organized chaos.

That was the best way to describe the scene beyond the debris. Dozens of people were scattered across the street on more dirty sheets, cartons, or torn clothes. Meanwhile, other survivors were rushing back and forth, carrying more bodies, clothes, or supplies. It looked a bit like an anthill that had just been stepped on.

One thing was for sure, though. Based on the state of some of the bodies in the area, not everyone here was alive. For some reason, he doubted that the man with a gaping hole where his heart should be was walking out of there with just a scar.

A massacre. He grimaced, raising a wobbly hand to his face. The moment his fingers brushed his scalp, he froze.

Wait. My hair.

He had always kept it relatively short, but this? This was like a buzz cut or worse. Hell, as his hand moved further, in some spots, he barely felt any hair. It was like he was half-bald now.

Yet another beautiful consequence of playing with fire.

Not that it really matters. I'm still alive, and my hair can grow back. But those people? His gaze washed over the multiple corpses in the sea of bodies. They are never getting up again…

Isaac rubbed his brow and averted his gaze from the corpses. Instead, his eyes found the small pile of clothes next to him. Atop of it lay his vambrace, looking no worse for wear. The vest and gloves, however, were nowhere to be seen. No surprises there…

Might as well, he thought, reaching for the fresh clothes. They even got him some new sneakers. Getting dressed, though, was another matter entirely. His body still felt sluggish, like he was moving through thick mud. Still, somehow, he managed.

"Isaac!" A voice he hadn't expected to hear again rang out just as he was putting on a fresh shirt. "You're awake!"

He forced his head through the shirt's opening and looked toward the source of the voice. His lips tugged upward.

"Elaine," he muttered.

Despite the grime, the dirt, and all the blood covering her clothes, the woman still looked better than the majority of the survivors in the area. Either she had already cleaned up or had been luckier than most during the battle. Then again, considering he had seen her fighting on the front lines, both were probably true.

"You shouldn't be sitting up yet," she chided. "It's been barely an hour since, well, you know… You should rest."

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An hour… Once more, his regeneration and Origin were showing just how powerful they were. Without them, he, most likely, would have been just another corpse among the many.

"I'm fine. Tired and aching all over, but fine," he reassured her. "I take it I have you to thank for dragging me here and getting me fresh clothes."

Elaine nodded as she sat down on the nearby chunk of debris. "Me and James. But I was the one to clean you up. Hope you don't mind."

"You helping me recover?" He arched an eyebrow. "Of course I don't. If anything, I'm grateful. Really, Elaine, thanks."

She smiled softly. "Couldn't leave you lying there, could I?"

"Considering how I must have looked, I wouldn't have blamed you if you did. I must have been a mess."

That made Elaine wince. "You were," she admitted. "People thought we were dragging a corpse when we carried you out. I will remember that forever."

Isaac looked down. "Sorry."

"Don't be…" Her voice dropped to a whisper. "It's just… a lot. So many bodies, so many dead. It's been only an hour, yet it feels like forever…"

Right… His gaze drifted back to the street, to the bodies scattered among the rubble. "How bad is it really? We won, but at what cost?"

"Too high," Elaine whispered. "Out of the few hundred who were here, about eighty survived. And that's only because over a half of that escaped toward the barrier when the fighting started." She gave a hollow laugh. "It's almost funny, you know? I should be angry. Mad at them for leaving us. But I can't. How can you blame someone for trying to save their own life? We aren't soldiers, after all."

Isaac nodded. He wasn't so sure about his opinion on deserters, but she had a point.

"How are James and Tyler?" he asked to change the subject. "Helping around?"

The woman flinched. "James… James is okay, but Tyler… he didn't make it, Isaac… He… he died during the battle."

He stiffened, his throat going dry. After Elaine mentioned James in the beginning, he assumed that everyone from his team was fine. Apparently, he was wrong. So very, very wrong.

Fuck…

Even though hadn't known the British man for long, he had grown used to his presence over the past two days. To hear that the Minotaur had killed him was… unexpected. And a bit depressing. In the end, Tyler was still their unspoken leader, the first person who came up with the idea to speed-run clearing out Galt.

And now, he was gone.

"How is James handling it?" Isaac asked, breaking the tense silence. "He knew Tyler best."

Elaine sighed. "Hard to say. He barely said a word after we brought you here. I can show you where he is, though. If you're up for a short walk, that is."

"Yes, please."

She offered him a weak smile, stood up, and draped one of his arms over her shoulders. "Up you go then, slowly."

Isaac nodded and, with her help, climbed to his feet. Still, she didn't let him go after and just led him into the sea of bodies. Some people shot them curious glances, but for the most part, they went ignored.

"Who's calling the shots now?" he asked, trying to fill the silence.

"Linda and Brian—a guy from another group," Elaine explained. "And yeah, they have already contacted the camps. We're hoping help will arrive soon."

"What about the other leaders? The Colonel?"

She grimaced. "Either dead or wounded. All I know is Williams is unconscious after somehow losing his left arm."

"Better that than being dead," Isaac muttered as they slowly left the temporary camp behind and headed toward the scorched battlefield. "He is here?"

Elaine nodded. "Yeah, over there," she said, pointing toward a figure sitting on a blackened rock.

"Thanks," he said, pulling his arm away from her. "I can manage from here. You should head back—get some rest. You've done enough."

A small smile bloomed on her face. "I think I will do just that. Oh, and Isaac?" Before he could ask what she wanted, she pulled him into a tight hug. "I'm glad you're alive."

Slowly, Isaac returned the embrace. "Likewise, Elaine. I'm glad you are, too."

Before long, the hug came to an end. Once they separated, they shared a nod and walked in opposite directions. Elaine toward the camp, and Isaac toward their final teammate.

On the way, he tried to ignore the stench of burnt flesh and how, no matter where he looked, he spotted remnants of the fallen. If he could leave this place forever after this, he would be happy.

"Hey there," he called out when he got within hearing distance of James.

The older man turned, his face brightening up just a little bit. "Good to see you up, man. Knew you would pull through."

"Didn't have much of a choice," Isaac muttered, sitting down on the rock. "I heard the news… How are you holding up?"

James let out a bitter laugh as his gaze returned to the battlefield. "Fine," he said after a moment. "Before the battle began, I knew there was a good chance not all of us would survive. But knowing it and living it? Two very different things. Worst of all? I saw it happen."

Isaac stiffened, and before he could stop himself, he blurted out. "You saw?"

"I did." James nodded. "It was after the Minotaur ignited. One of the fire waves got him…"

Isaac bowed his head. "I'm sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about. I just wish I could get the image out of my head. One moment he was just standing there, and then…" James trailed off, shaking his head. "You know what I mean… I couldn't even find the body."

"I…" Isaac tried, only to close his mouth.

In cases like this, he really had no idea what to say. Worse, he had only known Tyler and James for a few days. With Elaine, he at least had something to go off, but here? He had nothing, and saying, 'I'm sorry for your loss' felt meaningless.

Thankfully, the older man spoke up first. "It's fine, really. Just like me, T also understood what we were getting into. I guess somewhere deep inside, I still hoped we would all come out of this alive. Stupid, huh?"

"No," Isaac protested right away. "Not stupid. Human."

James smiled a bit. "Maybe… Thanks, man."

Isaac responded by patting his shoulder. "Ready to go then? Leave this place behind?"

The older man shook his head. "Not yet. You go. I need to be alone a bit longer, if you don't mind."

"No problem," Isaac said, standing up. "Take all the time you need. We will be waiting at the camp."

With that, he walked away, but not toward the camp as he told James. Instead, his feet carried him to the edge of the scorched battlefield, right where the Minotaur had fallen. Its body had long since disappeared, but he felt like he had to see this place one last time.

Besides, there were still multiple notifications waiting at the back of his mind. It seemed like a good time to finally check them out.

Go on, Interface. Hit me with it.

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