World Filter

Chapter 273: Dining peacefully


Mark's head snapped toward Patrica as his pupils widened.

"What are you talking about?" he bit off.

As far as Mark knew, a 'god' was nothing more than an idea—a collection of thoughts and energy given form by countless people. It was immaterial, and because of this property, it erred into the domain of the omnipotent.

Mark had met a couple of Ideals by this stage, and as far as he could tell, they no more knew why they were doing what they were doing than anyone else. They were pure energy given will to embody what their followers believed. The fact that they could do that without the need to learn how was a property of their nature. That's why the Lord of Brillance could remove Corruption when Mark had had to work so hard. Mark had to learn how to manipulate his power. It was made of energy, their starting points were different.

All of this was to say that an Ideal was fundamentally incompatible with a physical being. If Partrica was going to fuse with her god, then either she had to change, or it did, and quite frankly, Mark had his suspicions about who would have to bend.

Patrica looked at Nathan with pursed lips.

"Nate, we spoke about this. I'm doing this. And 'what he is talking about' is that I intend to merge temporarily with my lord."

Sam placed her hand over her chest.

"As in you would become your god? Divine possession?" she asked.

Patrica nodded quietly to herself but there was a powerful light in her eyes.

"He has been gradually revealing this to me for a long time, and I'm finally ready. The term is apotheosis," she said.

Mark frowned as he tried to think of where he'd heard that word. Divine ascension?

"I'm already changing even as we speak. This choice was made a long while ago. The moment that Mark found my Lord was residing within me, I knew."

Lisa wore a firm expression.

"We've already asked her all of this, and as far as I can tell, she's truly ready for it. So we've decided to support her. What I need to know now is if the three of you are still on board. If not, I understand. All I ask is that you stay here until morning—until we return."

Sam pursed her lips and nodded. She looked genuinely worried for the woman, but she was also willing to let her make her own decisions.

In contrast, Jonathan merely shrugged. He wouldn't support or criticize Patrica for her choice, but since they'd been asked by their allies, he'd see the job through faithfully.

Mark's thoughts were probably the most scattered. He'd been in contact with these Ideals and knew just how powerful they were. The honest question was: if Patrica joined with her Ideal, would she still be herself, or would she be overwhelmed by its influence?

Not long ago, Mark would've hated this idea. But after what had happened to Sam and Jonathan, his doubts had eased.

This could be something similar. And while the change might be jarring, it could also bring great advantages.

Still, Mark felt he needed to ask and hear the words from her mouth.

"Are you sure about this? When you let him in, it is almost a certainty that you won't be the same person after this. Are you doing this because you want it or because you think you have to?" he asked

Patrica looked at him with a warm smile.

"Mark, I'm grateful for your care, but I am certain. We have become good allies, and I want your help if you're willing, but I'm doing this because it is what I want," she said.

Mark searched her eyes for even a hint of hesitation or fanaticism, but he found nothing.

"Alright…" he said with a sigh.

Lisa glanced between the two of them and nodded.

"Okay, that should be enough of a head start. We should get going. If you can, keep us covered until we're out of sight."

Mark nodded, and they all lifted into the air and left out the same window the decoys had.

Warm night air hit them as the lights of the city twinkled welcomingly below.

They hadn't seen in what direction the other three had gone, but Lisa led them towards the east.

Below, the dark street stretched out beyond the wall, their isolated concrete completely uninviting.

The flight was not more than twenty minutes from the wall when they landed next to a small library with a cafe next to it.

All the windows had been blown out, and there were books strewn through the street, but otherwise, there was not a soul or Corrupted in sight.

Stepping into the cafe, Lisa ushered them in and closed the simple door behind them. They had arrived in a small, quiet room. Mark noticed a couple of mattresses and a radio set up in the far corner, along with a gas stove and counter setup.

The windows had been boarded up, and of all the things to be here, there was a low hum from a dinge refrigerator. Moving to it, Mark opened the door to find it fully stocked with meat and fresh produce. Almost as though in preparation for their arrival.

Mark looked at Lisa, and she shrugged.

"Patrica said she wanted to cook a last meal, I felt this was the least I could do."

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Mark looked at all the cuts of meat in the fridge. Before the fall, this would have been stuff one could find in any fridge across the states, but now much of it was considered a luxury. They had been processed and delivered here recently.

Jonathan's brow rose at this.

"Did someone bring this stuff in here? After all the trouble you went to sneak out. This seems like a large oversight."

Lisa shrugged, and Nathan spoke.

"I set this up this morning personally. Trust me, no one followed me."

Jon shrugged and peeked in the fridge at all the different delicacies on offer. There was far more than the six of them could eat here, but Lisa didn't seem to mind.

Patrica moved to the gas stove and started setting up her workspace.

"Are you sure you want to waste time like this? Or are you waiting for something?" Sam asked as she watched the woman work.

Patrica kept her eyes on her work.

"There's no rush to this. I just want this evening to be as normal as we can manage. If you're willing, I'd appreciate it if you just spent this time with me."

There was a certain vulnerability in her voice that they couldn't say no to, so Mark rolled up his sleeves and couldn't help the grin that appeared.

"I enjoy cooking. Tell me where you need me," he said.

Sam scratched the back of her neck and went with Lisa to set the table.

Jonathan and Nathan moved to secure the perimeter, but if he'd already checked this place, then there probably wasn't anything around here for more than a mile.

Mark seared the meat in the pan and used [Telekintic control] to reposition the meat when necessary, seeing as they'd thought of everything save for cooking utensils. Mark seared off a few large chunks of beef for Jonathan, making sure they were bleu, seeing as he would probably want it as raw as it came.

The whole scene felt surreal, but it was only when Lisa found and opened a bottle of red wine that Mark couldn't help laughing.

Here they were in a city ruined by the apocalypse, preparing to have a nice meal. If one ignored the surrounding destruction, he would have mistaken them for a group of friends getting together to have an evening meal.

None of them let their guards down by even a degree, but there was a relaxed air about the evening.

The assumption was that nothing this close to the city was a threat, and while a dangerous belief, they had a certain reassurance that their group could handle just about anything coming their way.

Mark had expanded a large construct over both the cafe and the library. It was so faint that most wouldn't even know it was there, so if anything got close, especially a Corrupted human, Mark would know.

Partica was just finishing up the Greek salad while Mark made a mushroom sauce when Nathan and Jonathan returned.

They sat down to eat without fanfare, digging into their meal with gusto.

Mark chewed a piece of medium rare steak as he pointed to a large bowl with Jonathan's portion in it. It was easily quadruple the amount the rest of them were eating, but no one brought it up.

As they ate, Patrica leaned over and rested against Lisa. It was a simple gesture, one Mark probably wouldn't have thought twice about, but there was a tenderness in both their eyes that Mark recognized. Their strength brought up bittersweet memories in Mark, but he was done running from them.

Lisa put down her glass of wine and turned to Sam with a sly grin curling across her lips.

"So, Samantha," she said with teasing amusement, "normally I wouldn't pry, but it seems like we have ample time on our hands before morning. When are you going to give either of these two handsome men at your sides a chance?"

The fork paused halfway to Sam's mouth, cherry tomato still skewered. Jonathan choked, coughing up a mouthful of meat as he smacked his chest and spluttered.

"Lisa—seriously?" he managed through the coughs.

Mark blinked like a deer in headlights. Why was he being brought into this?

Sam's brows rose as she glanced at Jonathan and then Mark.

Sam slowly lowered her fork and gave Lisa a look.

"Wow," she said, tone light. "Subtle as ever."

Lisa just grinned wider, enjoying the chaos. Patrica also held an interested expression in her eyes as she stared at them. Nathan hadn't even looked up from his meal, but Mark got the feeling he was listening closer than he portrayed.

Sam leaned back a little, eyes sliding to Jonathan, then to Mark. Her gaze lingered on both for a beat longer than casual.

"Well," she began, her voice playful, but with an undercurrent of sincerity, "on one side, I've got someone who charges headfirst into danger because it fun. On the other, someone who cares so greatly for others he forgets about himself."

Jonathan gave a sheepish shrug while Mark opened his mouth to argue but then shut it.

"And both of them have saved my life more times than I can count." She paused. "You don't rush into something like that. You let it grow. Let it become whatever it's meant to be."

Lisa raised her glass in appreciation. "Well played."

Mark exhaled slowly, clearly unsure if that was a compliment or a deflection.

Jonathan leaned toward Lisa and muttered, "You just had to stir the pot."

Lisa chuckled. "You're welcome."

Sam picked her fork back up and popped the tomato into her mouth, her smile never leaving.

Mark shook his head, hiding a small grin as he returned to his meal.

Lisa was just trying to lighten the mood, and honestly, Mark didn't mind. Sam was certainly right about one thing: he needed time before he was able to open up to anyone, anytime soon.

After that, the conversation seemed to flow naturally, and they chatted until all the food was gone.

Mark took out a bucket, and Sam used her [Water Control] to summon hot water so they could wash the dishes.

If they stored them in the system inventory with scraps still on them, the next time they pulled them out, the scraps would still be there. So it was better to clean them now.

Patrica came to help Mark tidy up while Lisa, Sam, and Nathan went out on patrol.

"So, you and Lisa—how long has that been going on?" Mark asked casually. He didn't bother to lower his voice; even if he whispered, Jonathan would hear it anyway.

Patrica blushed slightly but shrugged. "She and Nathan saved me and mine when I first got to the city. That's why I've worked so closely with them. But… if I'm honest, it started back then. It only really changed after the underground collapsed and they found me again."

Mark nodded as they chatted a little more, her voice warm and easy. But when the others returned, Patrica clammed up bashfully, retreating behind a polite smile.

All in all, the night was something Mark hadn't expected to enjoy as much as he did. It felt like he was back in college—relaxing, laughing, just being with friends.

There was only enough room for three of them to sleep at a time, so Mark, Lisa, and Nathan took the first watch. Patrica's transformation was supposed to occur around dawn, so after six hours, Mark handed off his shift and finally laid down.

He must've been asleep for a good while because when he stirred, he felt rested.

Unfortunately, what woke him wasn't someone shaking his shoulder—but the shimmer of his construct.

The barrier pulsed faintly, and then dozens of life signatures flared into view across his senses.

Mark bolted upright in bed as more figures closed in on the café at incredible speed.

"Incoming!" he shouted, already reaching for his gear.

Everyone was jolted awake. They were under attack. And it wasn't the Corrupted.

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