Chapter 37: Anchor

Valenti nodded. "I've heard."

"I think Sean might not be, well, suited for frontline combat," Galvin began, his words halting as he carefully weighed his phrasing. "Whether it's his temperament or his aptitude, there are still some—"

"The base will certainly take those factors into account," Valenti said with a smile. "Given the current circumstances, perhaps it isn't the right time for Sean to be assigned to missions. But you don't need to worry; we won't let any member of the reserve force face danger before they are properly prepared. Besides, it was never the case that every Mercury Needle should be on the front lines. Division of labor and coordination are always essential."

Hearing this, Galvin finally breathed a sigh of relief.

He couldn't help but gently thump his chest a few times, as if to release some of the pressure, though an unspoken anxiety and heaviness remained.

...

By evening, Hesta and Liz had both returned to the student dormitory.

Once back in her room, she collapsed onto her bed and fell asleep, not waking until after eight o'clock. At this hour, the base cafeteria would be closed. She decided to make herself something to eat in the kitchenette outside, but the thought remained only in her mind. She lay on the bed for a long time, motionless.

Outside, the sky was completely dark, yet a sliver of light filtered into the room—perhaps from a streetlamp, or something else. Sometimes she heard the rustling sound of distant conversations, though she couldn't tell if they came from the ground floor or from some window at the base of the apartment building.

Hesta felt that familiar, hazy sense of unreality. She recalled the song Liz had sung earlier today. She couldn't quite remember the so-called "Mercury Needle Battle Hymn," but the Asgier chant, whose lyrics she didn't understand, had left a deep impression on her.

Liz had introduced her to several members of the base today. Hesta figured this was mostly because, in the days since she arrived, she hadn't really interacted with anyone new outside of her roommates in 403 and the instructors.

Liz had created the opportunity both to get her out of the apartment on a Sunday and to help her expand her social circle a little.

Thinking about it, Liz must have been an older sister back home; otherwise, her care and consideration wouldn't feel so natural and effortless.

Hesta sighed softly. Whether it was in Short-Call Alley or St. Anne’s Monastery, her connections to the world around her never seemed deep. Yet, in these places, there was always an anchor—a person to hold onto, preventing her from becoming a shadow drifting forever at the edges.

Here, it was Liz; at the monastery, it was Boheng; and back in Short-Call Alley... it was her mother.

Hesta sometimes didn't understand how some people could possess so many wishes and so much strength, forever cherishing a longing for the future, like a torch that never stopped burning.

Reminiscing about the past, Hesta suddenly felt a wave of loneliness. She climbed out of bed barefoot and walked over to the small side table by the window.

She sat down on the cast-iron chair, her feet resting on the plush carpet.

She swayed her feet gently, letting the carpet brush against her soles.

Hesta pressed her cheek against the table, her fingertips hooked over the edge, and lay there like that.

Moonlight spilled in, illuminating the glass bell jar on the table. She stared at the paper rose standing inside, feeling her heart grow calm once more.

But that alone was not enough. There ought to be someone standing nearby.

There ought to be a hand reaching out to gently pat her hair.

Hesta’s gaze drifted to the silver key beneath the rose—the one Qianye had given her a few days ago. She had placed it inside the bell jar alongside the paper rose.

She stared at the key for a while, then reached out, lifted the glass dome, and took it out.

She stood up to turn on the room light and found a piece of cord to string the key around her neck. However, after looking in the mirror for a moment, Hesta felt it looked a bit silly and too conspicuous. She cut the cord, wrapped it several times around her wrist, and tied it securely.

When she pulled her long sleeves down, nothing could be seen.

After fussing for over ten minutes, the lethargy that had kept her from moving had completely faded. She felt hungrier now, so she got up and headed outside.

As she pushed open the door, she saw Liz lying on the sofa beneath the living room window, a book in her hand.

They exchanged a silent greeting. Hesta walked to a storage corner near the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of purified water, and took several large gulps.

She didn't notice that she was blocking the light for Liz, but Liz didn't say anything, simply setting her book aside. "Were you sleeping in your room?"

"Yes," Hesta nodded. "I'm a bit hungry, so I came out to get something to eat."

Liz lay there watching Hesta work—her idea of "getting something to eat" was boiling two eggs in plain water. It was clear that Hesta was still unfamiliar with the induction stove; she didn't pick up the small saucepan to add water and place it on the burner until she saw the black surface glow red, confirming that it was truly hot.

The sight made Liz chuckle.

Perhaps Hesta didn't realize it herself, but when she wasn't smiling, her expression looked a bit fierce—which was likely why most people didn't take the initiative to greet her. Every time she walked into the grammar classroom and sat down, she radiated a chilling coldness, her guarded face clearly reading "Keep Away."

Right now, Hesta still looked a bit fierce, but her clumsy movements made the scene somewhat amusing.

Liz didn't offer to help, but as Hesta looked around, searching for something, she said softly, "The lid is in the bottom cabinet."

Hesta knelt down upon hearing this and quickly found the pot lid.

Once she had everything sorted, Hesta wiped her wet hands on her clothes.

She turned around to see that Liz had returned to her book.

"Has Turan not come back yet?" Hesta asked casually. She had barely seen her other two roommates in recent days; she knew Rico was still undergoing treatment in the underground infirmary, but it was strange not to see Turan at all.

"Yeah, it feels like she’s been a bit obsessed with her extra training lately," Liz shifted slightly. "But the Support Center said it’s best not to interfere. Letting her have an outlet is probably for the best."

Hesta walked over to the large table in the living room and pulled out a chair to sit. "I looked up Katla City yesterday."

Liz set her book down again and looked at Hesta. "Oh?"

Hesta continued, "It seems to be a livable zone in the Fourth District. At the time of the incident, because the Mercury Needles intervened in time, there weren't many casualties... is that right?"

"Yes."

"Is there... some hidden reason why she is so obsessed with combat?"

"Well... how should I put it?"

Liz pondered for a moment before continuing, "Generally speaking, the Chelates that appear in livable zones mostly come from the Wastelands. They bypass the containment zones or find loopholes, breaking through the outer perimeter defenses to enter the city. So, for the victims, these Chelates are monsters that descend from the sky—we call them 'Secondary Chelates.'

"And the kind you encountered at the monastery, where people around you became infected and fell ill, those are called 'Primary Chelates.'"

Liz scratched her head and looked back at her book.

"In comparison, the victims of Secondary Chelates harbor a deeper, purer hatred for Chelates, and their desire for battle is much stronger." Liz paused. "It’s... only human nature, I suppose."