Chương 9: Civilization

The walls of the settlement loomed higher the closer they drew. Mark had seen similar sights before—back home, in pictures or on television, or even after the initial chaos when people first started going missing—but nothing like this, and not in person. He didn't know what he expected, maybe clean-cut stone like so many of the castles in Europe. Definitely not this. The fortifications rose from the desert rock itself, thick slabs of stone reinforced with scavenged plates of chitin and shell.

Massive scorpion armor had been bolted into place, covering what looked like the gates. In some places, enormous boulders had been dragged in and wedged along the base, forming crude but effective barriers. It didn't look welcoming. It looked like something built by people who expected to be attacked. Mark tightened his grip on Sarah's hand as they approached, instinctively pulling her and Tom closer.

His neck throbbed with every step, the bandages pulling when he moved too sharply, but he forced himself to keep walking. Stopping out here, so close to safety, felt unthinkable. Even if his body desperately needed rest. It didn't take long for a figure to appear at the top of the wall. The guard leaned forward, silhouetted against the pale sky, armor catching the light. He looked down at them with an icy stare.

"State your business," he called out. His voice carried easily.

"And who you're with." Mark felt his stomach tighten. Ethan stepped forward before Mark could speak. He looked calm, unbothered. Like this was beneath him, and not something as important as finding shelter and safety.

"We just arrived," Ethan called out.

"We've been walking for days, looking for shelter." There was a pause. The guard stared at them for a long moment, eyes narrowing as he took in their condition, blood-stained clothes, Tom clinging to Sarah's side. His expression shifted, surprise flashing across his face before he turned his head and shouted something over his shoulder. Mark couldn't hear the reply, but voices answered back and chains began to rattle. With a low groan, the gates began to open. They didn't swing freely.

They were dragged inward, inch by inch, heavy metal links clanking as they were hauled back. The gap widened just enough for armed figures to spill out. Mark's shoulders tensed as half a dozen guards rushed forward, spreading out instinctively, weapons already drawn. They didn't attack, but they didn't relax either. They all wore makeshift armor and were armed with weapons from medieval times: swords, spears, crossbows. It was so far removed from anything Mark was used to. A woman stepped through the line.

She wore layered armor reinforced with thick white plating. Her stance was strong, her gaze sharp as it swept over them. When her eyes lingered on Mark's neck, something unreadable flickered across her face.

"You'll follow me," she said. Not a request. Mark glanced at Ethan. He gave a small nod. She ushered them inside. Ethan led the way, following the woman as her guards encircled them. Inside the walls, the settlement opened up around them and Mark wasn't prepared for it. The streets were crowded, packed tight with bodies moving in every direction. Stalls lined the paths, rough wooden frames draped with cloth and scavenged metal. Weapons hung from racks. Blades of every shape and size.

Armor patched together from leather, bone, and chitin. Crates of dried food. Waterskins. It was overwhelming. This place wasn't just a camp. It was a city. An old city. Like they had reverted back in time and were now in the Stone Age—but a city nonetheless. Mark felt Tom tug at his pants, excitement breaking through his exhaustion. The boy's eyes were wide, darting from stall to stall, taking everything in at once.

"Mom—look—" Sarah tightened her grip immediately, pulling him back against her side.

"Stay close," she murmured, voice tight. The lead guard glanced back at them, her look sharp and warning. Mark got the message immediately. Don't wander. Don't touch. Don't forget where you are. It struck him then how little this felt like refuge. More like custody. They were guided deeper into the settlement, the paths narrowing as stone replaced sand beneath their feet. Mark hadn't realized how relieved he would feel to have solid footing under his boots. The constant sinking into sand had grown insufferable.

The buildings rose higher the deeper they walked, carved directly into the rock faces, their entrances dark and cool compared to the open streets. The farther they went, the quieter it became. Fewer stalls. Fewer people and more guards. Mark's unease deepened. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. Finally, the woman led them to a structure that dwarfed the others. Its entrance was broad, reinforced with thick stone doors etched with worn markings.

When they passed inside, the temperature dropped instantly. Despite his tension, it was a relief. The interior stretched far back, deeper than Mark expected. Torches lined the walls, their light flickering across smooth stone that had clearly been carved rather than built. His footsteps echoed. So did his heartbeat. They were brought into a chamber set off from the main corridor. It was sparse, with little comfort to offer other than some seats and a table. There were no windows or natural light.

The woman turned to face them.

"Wait here," she said.

"Someone will be with you shortly." Then she left. The door closed behind her with a solid, final sound, leaving Mark and his family alone with Ethan. Mark exhaled slowly, tension finally seeping out of his shoulders. He reached for Sarah instinctively, pressing his forehead briefly against hers.

"We made it," she whispered. He could hear the worry in her voice. He reached down and rested a hand on her bump. He hoped they wouldn't have to go back out there. She was far too pregnant to be out among all that danger. He nodded, though his eyes drifted to the stone door. He desperately hoped this was a safe place for his family. Ethan had told them it was their best option, but that was yet to be decided. After a few minutes, the door opened again. Mark straightened instinctively and moved closer to Sarah.

Tom pressed beside her, peeking out from behind her arm as a man stepped into the room. He was young. Younger than Mark had expected. Early twenties at most, maybe even less. He wore no armor, his dark hair tied back loosely, and while his clothes were practical, they were clean—well-kept in a way that stood out after days in the desert. His posture was relaxed, but not careless. The kind of ease that came from confidence, not comfort. His eyes swept over them quickly, sharp but not unkind.

"Go ahead and sit," the man said, gesturing to the benches. Mark sat immediately, easing himself down with care. Sarah followed, guiding Tom between them. When Mark glanced toward Ethan, expecting him to do the same, he hesitated. Ethan hadn't moved. He stood frozen where he was, staring at the man like he'd just seen a ghost. Mark frowned. It was subtle, but unmistakable. Ethan's shoulders were rigid, his expression unreadable but tense in a way Mark hadn't ever seen. Mark wondered, idly, if Ethan knew the man.

It wouldn't have surprised him. A lot of things about Ethan didn't add up, least of all his age. The kid insisted he was eighteen, but Mark had his doubts. Ethan didn't look much older than Mark's niece back home, and she was sixteen. Too young to carry himself the way Ethan did. And yet, there was no denying his strength. Power radiated off him. Not in a way Mark could explain, but in how people moved around him, how danger seemed to bend away or break against him. Ethan was dangerous. Mark knew that.

If the boy hadn't saved his family—more than once—Mark wasn't sure he'd want them anywhere near him. Sarah had voiced the same opinion. Of course she was grateful for him and everything he had helped them with, but after the undead attack she had confided in Mark that she was scared. Scared of the way Ethan cut down those undead so effortlessly. Even though she had seen him in action against the scorpion, there was something different about watching him meticulously cut through human bodies like it meant nothing.

Mark had thought about pointing out that he had done the same, maybe to a lesser degree, but he had still killed something that, not even long ago, had been a living, breathing human. But he stopped himself. Those memories he would rather bury. And he couldn't deny there was something in Ethan's eyes that bothered him. Regret. Or anger. Maybe both. It didn't belong on someone so young. The man cleared his throat, drawing Mark's attention back to him.

"We'll just ask a few questions," the man said calmly.

"After that, you'll be free to rest. I know you've had a rough time out there." His gaze softened slightly as it landed on Tom.

"Especially you," he added.

"What's your name?" Tom shrank further into Sarah's side, fingers curling into her sleeve. Mark felt a flicker of pride when the boy answered anyway.

"Tom," he said quietly. The man smiled and nodded.

"Good to meet you, Tom," he said.

"I'm Alex, vice guild leader of the Broken Dawns." Mark's brow furrowed slightly at that. Ethan had told them what to expect when they reached the settlement. Apparently, all the settlements on this level were run by guilds—groups of survivors that had banded together in hopes of uniting humanity under their order. Ethan had warned him to watch out for them. That they were dangerous and held power over every level. That they were, effectively, the new government, even if there was no clear leader.

Alex turned his attention back to the group.

"Why don't you tell me how you got here?" Mark hesitated, then glanced at Ethan again, expecting him to take the lead since he knew far more about what was going on than Mark himself. But Ethan still looked lost in thought. Mark swallowed and took a breath. If Ethan wasn't going to speak, then he would. He spoke about the desert. The heat. The scorpion. The undead. The running. The blood. He didn't dramatize it, but he didn't downplay it either.

Sarah filled in small gaps when he faltered, her voice steady despite everything they'd been through. Alex listened without interrupting. When Mark finished, the man nodded slowly.

"It sounds like you've been through a lot," he said simply.

"I'm glad you managed to find a guide that got you here quickly. I'd have hated to know you spent more time in the desert than absolutely necessary."

"I'll have some guards take you to get food and a room," Alex continued.

"You'll be safe here. I'll also have someone speak with you later to explain what's happening and why you've been brought into the trials." Relief hit Mark like a physical thing. He hadn't realized how tightly he'd been holding himself together until that moment.

"Thank you," Mark said sincerely.

"For letting us in." Alex inclined his head.

"You're welcome. We would never leave someone stranded." The door opened again, and a pair of guards stepped inside, gesturing for them to follow. Mark pushed himself to his feet, wincing slightly. Sarah helped him, Tom already half-asleep again between them. Ethan finally moved as well. But before he could take a step, Alex spoke again.

"Ethan," he said.

"Mind staying behind for a moment?" Mark paused, glancing between them. Ethan hesitated only briefly before nodding.

"It's fine," he said.

"I'll catch up with you." Mark studied his face, searching for reassurance, but Ethan's expression was carefully neutral now, whatever shock he'd felt earlier buried deep.

"Alright," Mark said slowly.

"Don't take too long." Ethan gave a small smile.

"I won't." Reluctantly, Mark followed the guards, Sarah and Tom close beside him.