Thirstfall - Memory of a Returnee-Chapter 22: Volatile Panic

​The dust settles, but the smell hangs heavy in the air—ignited gunpowder mixed with the sickening, sweet scent of burnt pork. 𝓯𝓻𝒆𝙚𝒘𝓮𝙗𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝒍.𝙘𝓸𝙢

​Veric stares at the smoking crater, his polished armor reflecting the carnage. He looks disturbed, not by the violence itself, but by the casual nature of it.

​"Did she really just..." Veric gestures vaguely at the smoking boots. "Execute him? In cold blood? He was just bullying her."

​​"This is Thirstfall, Veric," I say, my voice flat. "The moment the Oathring went up, morality went down. What were you expecting from him? A written apology before she pulled the trigger?"

​I step past him, walking toward the edge of the blast radius. My eyes narrow. The physical body is gone, vaporized by the chemical reaction, but Trace shows me what remains.

​I activate the skill.

The world desaturates for a second. Amidst the grey smoke, a faint, pulsing blue light hovers near the ground.

​Found you.

​I kneel and dig my fingers into the soot. I pull out a small, crystallized shard. It’s not a weapon. It’s an Echo Fragment.

I pocket it before the Academy. They clean them and box it to the family—digital proof of death. It’s the final shred of humanity, meant to kill a mother’s hope that her son will ever leave the tank.

I need the fuel...

​"I didn’t know you were a grave robber," Veric comments, watching me wipe the soot from my hands. "Is that a hobby or just a lower-class habit?"

​"Resources are resources," I mutter, ignoring him. "Let’s focus on the living."

​I turn my attention to the girl.

​She hasn’t moved. She is sitting on her massive case, pulled away from the main crowd. But something is wrong.

​She isn’t gloating. She isn’t checking for loot.

​She is trembling.

​Her hands are gripping the edges of her white hoodie, pulling it down tight until only her chin is visible. The bear ears on the hood twitch as she rocks back and forth. Her fingers are drumming against the metal case—*tap-tap-tap-tap*—in a frantic, uneven rhythm.

​She’s stimming. Overloaded.

​Veric follows my gaze and straightens up, adjusting his pauldrons. He sees a weapon. He sees value.

​"Leave it to me," he says confidently, stepping forward. "We need that kind of firepower. I’ll recruit her."

​"Veric, wait—"

​He ignores me.

He walks toward her with the stride of a man used to commanding rooms. He stops at a respectful distance—he’s not stupid—but then he makes the mistake. He projects his voice, using his "Noble Command" tone, loud enough for the back row to hear.

​"Impressive work!" Veric booms, smiling comfortably. "High-level chemistry. I am Veric Azure. My squad has an opening for a specialist of your caliber. I will cover your ammunition costs and guarantee your safety within the Azure hierarchy."

​It’s a perfect proposal. Polite. Direct. Lucrative.

​And it’s the worst thing he could have done.

​Lola flinches like he threw a stone at her. She curls tighter into a ball. To her, his projected voice and his shining, polished armor aren’t impressive; they are needles in her eyes and hammers in her ears.

​"Too bright..." she whispers, her voice cracking. Her hand drifts toward the handle of the case. "Metal voice... stop the buzzing..."

​Veric frowns, confused. He thinks she didn’t hear him over the crowd. So, he does what any arrogant leader would do: he steps closer and speaks louder.

​"Miss, perhaps you didn’t understand. I said that—"

​*TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP.*

​Her fingers blur against the metal case. The rhythm is frantic now. Her eyes are glazed over, staring at nothing. The case lets out a low, rising whine.

​Danger.

​I grab Veric’s shoulder and yank him back hard.

​"Stop," I hiss. "You’re broadcasting Heavy Metal to a girl who needs white noise."

​Veric shakes my hand off, offended. "I am offering a fair contract! She’s being irrational."

​"You’re offering noise," I correct him. "Back off. You’re making it worse."

​I step in front of him, blocking his shiny armor from her line of sight.

​I approach her slowly. I don’t stand tall. I crouch down, making myself smaller than her. I keep my hands visible, palms open. I don’t look her in the eyes—I look at her boots.

​"That idiot shines too much, right?" I say softly, my voice barely a murmur.

​The drumming stops.

Lola freezes. She doesn’t look up, but she tilts her head. She’s listening.

​"He doesn’t know how to be quiet," I continue, inching a fraction closer. "The noise... it scratches, doesn’t it?"

​She nods, a tiny movement.

​I feel a moment of relief. I’m getting through.

I reach out, intending to gently lower her hood, just to see her face, to make a human connection. A calculated move to build trust.

​"It’s okay," I whisper. "Let me just—"

​My fingers brush the white fabric of her hood.

​*Click.*

​I don’t even see her move.

One second, my hand is in the air. The next, something cold and heavy snaps around my wrist.

​I look down.

A thick metal bracelet with a digital display is locked onto my arm. The numbers are red. And they are counting down.

​00:10

​Lola looks up. Her eyes are terrifyingly empty, but her smile is sharp.

​"Personal space," she whispers. "You have 10 seconds. Or we all turn into stars."

​My blood turns to ice.

Veric gasps behind me, probably reaching for his sword, but he knows he’s too slow.

​00:08

​"I’m sorry," I say instantly, freezing my muscle movements. "I overstepped."

​I look at her. Panic is clawing at my throat, but I force my voice to remain steady, soft, melodic.

​"You know... I have a little sister. Lili." I smile, a genuine, sad smile. "Lili... Lola... sounds similar, right? She hated loud noises too. She used to say people in armor sounded like... like kitchen pots falling down the stairs."

​00:06

​Lola blinks. The madness in her eyes recedes just a fraction. A small, contained smile touches her lips.

​"Pots," she murmurs. "Hurts the ears."

​00:05

​"I know," I promise, holding her gaze. "Let’s make a deal. You come with us, and I make the noise stop. The ’Pot’ over there?" I point my thumb back at Veric. "He stands in front. He blocks the wind. He blocks the screaming people. I stand beside you. Nobody touches you. Nobody yells."

​00:03

​The timer blinks.

Lola looks at Veric—who looks offended by the nickname but is also terrified of the beeping—and then back at me.

​She tilts her head.

​"Can I explode the ones who scream?"

00:01

​"Only the ones I point at," I say quickly. "That way we save your ears... and my wallet."

​00:00

​The bracelet doesn’t detonate.

It clicks and falls open, dropping into my hand.

​Lola releases a breath she was holding. She grabs a small plushie keychain from her case—a star—and starts stroking it.

​"Okay," she whispers. "The Pot goes in front."

​I exhale, my heart hammering against my ribs so hard I can feel it in my ears.

On the outside, I look cool, collected, the perfect handler.

​Inside, I’m screaming.

For God’s sake!!! This girl is going to be the death of me!

​I stand up, giving her back the deactivated bomb, and turn to Veric.

​"Congratulations," I say, wiping sweat from my palm. "We have an Artificer."

​Veric stares at her, then at me.

​"Did you just call me a kitchen pot?"

​"I called you a tank," I lie smoothly. "Now shut up and lead the way. We still need a fourth."