Chapter 45-Heartless

Chapter 45: 45-Heartless

"Call me heartless but I have come to learn that being a hero is painful," she confessed, recalling the feeling of dying in her first life.

The worst part wasn’t death itself, it was the hurt that came before. Looking into the eyes of everyone she once saved and protected and watch them remain silent as she was dragged to the edge of her own ship before being thrown off.

Those eyes still haunted her. Her desperate please tobe saved still rang in her ears and the cold indifference in their eyes was engraved in her soul.

"Being a hero isn’t for everyone..." Certainly not for her!

She stirred the pot without eating. "I built this place because I was afraid. I told myself it was preparation, strategy, and common sense. But every room, every locked door, every crate of supplies..." Her fingers tightened around the chopsticks. "Part of me was already imagining being the only one left."

Nathaniel’s expression softened. He hadn’t meant to upset her by making that suggestion, it was just a passing thought.

"Aymara."

"I hate that I’m relieved you’re here." She glanced toward the television, where strangers clung to a rooftop beneath the rain. "People are dying, and I’m sitting here feeling grateful because you survived it. It feels selfish."

"It is selfish," he concluded.

She blinked at him.

He gave her a tired, crooked smile. "So am I. I saw the numbers and thought about you before I thought about anyone else. So don’t beat yourself up so much about it."

Her eyes shone, but she laughed quietly. "That was a terrible thing to admit," she let out, while deep down, she was extremely touched that even this time, he wasn’t going to leave her behind.

"I’ve made worse calculations in my life."

"You have."

He reached across the table, not quite touching her hand. "I don’t know how to survive this without feeling guilty."

Aymara looked at his fingers, then placed her hand over them. "Kindness to others in doomsday is being unkind to yourself. You don’t have to survive it alone but don’t go soft on others. Hearts can’t be trusted in the apocalypse."

His hand turned beneath hers, gripping tightly. "I was afraid you’d tell me I had to be stronger."

"I was afraid you’d expect me to be," Aymara expressed.

For a moment, they didn’t say anything more and simply let the moment be as it was. The storm battered the fortress, and the television continued listing places that no longer answered their calls.

Aymara squeezed his hand. "We can feel terrible and still eat dinner, right?"

Nathaniel let out a shaky laugh. "That may be the least inspiring survival philosophy I’ve ever heard."

"But I’m sure it’s working. Tell me I’m wrong."

He picked up a piece of meat, and they ate quietly for a while. The warm broth steamed between them, a small private weather system neither of them had to fear.

Every now and then, Aymara would add more ingredients to the pot while Nathaniel chose what he wanted.

Sometimes their chopsticks reached for the same piece of food, and their fingers would brush, but neither commented. This time, when their hands met, Nathaniel held on for an extra second. Neither of them pulled away.

Outside, lightning illuminated the ocean. Inside, they continued eating while the television kept broadcasting the destruction.

Another country had lost contact, another region had been completely submerged, and the confirmed death toll continued rising. Rescue operations were being abandoned because there was nowhere safe for rescuers to land.

The old world was no longer simply experiencing a disaster. It was being erased, wave by wave, while the broth between them continued to simmer.

Nathaniel stared at the screen. "I wonder how many people are still alive."

Aymara paused. "I don’t know," and frankly, she didn’t care.

"Do you think humanity can recover from this?"

Aymara looked at the endless water beyond the windows. "Eventually. Maybe."

Nathaniel turned toward her. "You sound certain."

"I’m not." She gave him a small, honest smile. "But if I stop believing that, then all of this becomes a tomb."

He glanced around the fortress. "And what is it now?"

"A home for you and me," the answer settled between them more heavily than the thunder.

Aymara picked up another piece of meat. "And besides..." She looked around the fortress. "We have everything we need in here. Whether humanity recovers or not, we are good to go."

Nathaniel followed her gaze. The fortress was warm, the lights were glowing, and the air was clean.

There was food, water, medicine, power, fuel, defenses, and enough supplies to survive for decades. Most importantly, neither of them was alone in the disaster, they had each other.

Nathaniel looked back at the television. The news showed another city disappearing beneath a massive wave. He watched for a few seconds before turning away, then picked up his bowl.

"I think I’ll have another serving."

Aymara’s eyes immediately brightened. "Really?"

She loved watching him eat, it gave her the morale to eat more and she appreciated having a meal with company and not hearing a single word of judgement.

’So this is what a normal meal feels like?’ she had forgotten the feeling.

"Yes, and I think I’ll eat more. The weather is perfect for a hotpot."

She happily added more food to his bowl. "Here. Don’t hold back then."

Nathaniel looked down at the generous portion. "That’s too much."

"You need to eat."

"I’ve already eaten and..."

"Not enough so please don’t argue and just eat. You said yourself, the weather is perfect for this."

"Aymara."

"Nathaniel."

They stared at each other, and then Nathaniel sighed.

"Fine."

Aymara smiled triumphantly.

Ninety percent of the world was already beneath the ocean. But inside the fortress, two people sat around a steaming hot pot, eating warm food while watching the end of the world unfold on television. The contrast felt almost obscene, yet neither of them apologized for it.

They had not earned their survival by being better than the people outside. They had only been lucky enough to prepare, and stubborn enough to keep breathing. The guilt would remain. So would the fear. But so would the hand across the table, the warmth in the room, and the ridiculous amount of food Aymara insisted Nathaniel needed.

For tonight, that was enough. The world could freeze, the ocean could rise, and the storms could rage. Aymara had built her fortress for this exact moment, and as long as Nathaniel was sitting across from her, alive and warm, she had no intention of letting the apocalypse take anything else from her.

"Wait, system. Where is my gift. You’ve been holding out on me for so long, are you trying to drive me crazy?"

The system didn’t respond to her. Aymara couldn’t help but wish that the system had a physical form, it would have more broken bones from her than missions to her.

She looked around her. There was no sign of the blue screen or that annoying mechanical voice in her ear.

"Don’t tell me you tricked me into cooking for Nathaniel and I’m not getting anything at all," she pouted. Hard. "Why did you even mention the gift if you weren’t going to give me anything?"