novelzi Chapter 673 673: Homecoming (Part 2)
Chapter 673 673: Homecoming (Part 2)
The days quickly blurred together underground.By the second day, Don had stopped trying to keep track of time.
Morning and evening meant nothing beneath layers of concrete and steel.
The artificial lighting never changed, bathing the hidden facility in the same sterile white glow hour after hour.
Metal walkways reflected that light. Computer monitors reflected it. Faces reflected it.
Everything existed beneath the same unchanging brightness.
It made the hours run together.
Most of his time was spent near his family.
Not talking.
Not doing much of anything. Just being there.
Samantha seemed satisfied with that arrangement. She would sit beside him while watching the news, reading reports Winter compiled, or simply staring into space.
Every so often she would reach over and touch his arm, his shoulder, or the back of his hand. Never drawing attention to it. Never commenting.
Just checking. Making sure he was still there.
Don let her.
The injuries across his body healed completely over the following days. The cuts closed.
The bruising faded from deep purple to normal. His ribs didn't protest anymore, and the pain had subsided.
The booster Webb had injected into him lingered in strange ways, leaving occasional bursts of energy followed by stretches where his body felt heavier than it should.
He kept his workouts light.
Basic exercises.
Stretching and mobility work.
When sleep refused to come, he sat with Winter at the workstations and reviewed information gathered during the outbreak. Drone footage. Security recordings. Traffic cameras. News broadcasts.
Anything that helped paint a clearer picture of what Santos City looked like now.
The answer wasn't encouraging.
Entire districts remained damaged beyond recognition.
Some neighborhoods still smoldered days after the incident. Others had become temporary military zones where cleanup operations continued around the clock. Roads were blocked. Businesses destroyed. Residential areas emptied.
A city wounded but still standing.
Don spent hours discussing possibilities with Winter.
How the power structure might shift, which organizations would benefit and which groups had suffered losses.
More importantly, where opportunities might appear once everyone stopped focusing on survival and started focusing on rebuilding.
Chaos created openings.
It always did.
Winter's updates regarding his enemies remained frustratingly incomplete.
Johnny Black had vanished.
Valerie Kross had vanished too.
That alone told Don they were probably alive. Dead people were easy to find after all.
Living people who wanted to disappear however were much harder.
The gangs related to Johnny had taken losses during the outbreak, enough that surviving members had scattered throughout the city and surrounding regions.
The cartel-linked groups Winter tracked appeared to be doing the same thing. No aggressive moves. No retaliation. No expansion attempts.
Everyone was waiting.
Watching.
Trying to determine what the new landscape would look like.
His friends proved even more difficult to locate.
Winter could probably find them eventually if she pushed hard enough, but every time the subject came up she reminded him of the same problem.
UPSDF monitoring.
The military had eyes everywhere right now.
Digging too deeply into communications networks or surveillance systems risked drawing attention.
Attention was the last thing they needed.
So Don waited.
On the fourth day, he sat at his usual workstation with a half-finished report open across several monitors.
Rows of information scrolled across the screens. Surveillance stills. Property records. Damage assessments. Pieces of a larger puzzle he hadn't bothered assembling yet.
Across the lab, Samantha and Miss Claire occupied a larger workstation near one of the wall-mounted displays.
The news played continuously.
Footage of collapsed buildings.
Aerial shots of destroyed neighborhoods.
Military convoys moving through damaged streets.
Interviews with displaced families standing outside temporary shelters.
Samantha watched every segment with the same troubled expression.
Miss Claire's face revealed little.
She sat with perfect posture despite wearing the same clothes for days.
The outfit showed signs of use now. Small creases. Slight wrinkles. Evidence that even she wasn't immune to circumstances.
Amanda sat between them.
Completely uninterested in the news.
The sounds drifting from her tablet involved roaring engines and enthusiastic commentary.
"...and that's a twelve-thousand-horsepower engine—"
Amanda nodded seriously.
A moment later a monster truck dragged something enormous across a dirt arena.
She looked thoroughly invested.
Don stopped paying attention.
Further down the platform, Summer stood beside the unfinished mech.
She'd spent more time studying the machine than anyone except Sylvia.
The two of them circled sections of exposed framework while discussing engineering problems that sounded increasingly absurd every time Don overheard them.
"...the hydraulic pressure needs to distribute evenly across the lower carriage, otherwise the balance algorithms won't compensate fast enough."
Summer tapped a welded section with her knuckle.
Sylvia crossed her arms and examined the area.
"The software can handle uneven distribution if the sensors provide enough data. But you're right about the delay. You'd need faster processors or a lighter frame."
Summer grunted.
"Processors."
She pointed toward another section.
"Lighter frame compromises impact resistance."
Don listened to them for several seconds.
Neither sounded like teenagers.
At least not when discussing engineering.
Maybe educational standards really were different in this world.
Or maybe both of them were just terrifyingly talented.
Either possibility seemed plausible.
He returned his attention to the monitors.
A few minutes later, one of the screens flickered.
The display changed.
Data vanished.
An incoming connection request appeared.
Don frowned. It was his personal number.
More surprising was the name attached to it.
Mr. Xiao.
He stared at the screen.
Over the last several days only two people had successfully contacted him.
Charles had called first.
Apparently another residence was already prepared in a different city should Don and his family need somewhere else to stay. Transportation could be arranged as well.
Don had told him he'd think about it.
Ash had called as well.
She'd finished her scouting assignments and immediately demanded instructions.
The conversation had consisted mostly of complaints, profanity, and questions regarding where he was hiding.
He'd told her to remain at the camp until conditions improved.
She'd hated that answer.
But she'd accepted it.
Xiao calling was different.
Winter stepped behind his chair.
"Shall I answer it?"
Don considered the screen another moment.
Then nodded.
"Yeah."
Winter accepted the connection.
The monitor flickered again.
A moment later Xiao's voice filled the workstation.
Smooth.
Exactly the way Don remembered.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Bright. I hope I haven't caught you at a bad time."
Don glanced around the laboratory.
Afternoon. He hadn't known.
The concept barely existed down here.
"Not at all, sir," he replied. "What can I do for you?"
"Well." A faint amusement entered Xiao's voice.
"I shouldn't be telling a student this, but tomorrow the UPSDF will officially declare Santos City safe and transfer authority back to the various branches of the Department of Defense."
A brief pause followed.
"But I'm not calling to bore you with our country's bureaucracy."
Don remained quiet.
Xiao continued.
"I'm calling because despite the incident ending, residency will remain problematic."
His tone softened slightly.
Not enough to hide the calculation beneath it.
"I'm sure you and the Monclaire boy shall manage. However, in the scenario that you do not, the school has prepared alternatives."
Don leaned back.
"As things currently stand, the Santos City campus cannot continue operating normally. Arrangements are being finalized to transfer students between campuses. Some local. Some international."
The pause this time felt heavy.
"You should receive an email containing the details."
Don thought about it.
Not the offer itself.
The motivation behind it.
Xiao wasn't calling out of charity.
Students like him represented value, prestige and future results.
The school had invested into him.
Naturally they wanted to keep him.
"I'm still exploring accommodation options," Don said. "But I'll get back to you."
Xiao didn't argue.
"Not a problem." His voice remained pleasant.
"Until next time, Mr. Bright."
The connection ended.
The screen returned to normal.
Don sat quietly for several seconds.
Then Winter spoke.
"The offer is likely related to your status as a valuable asset."
Don snorted softly.
Winter continued.
"Given your reputation, other institutions attempting to recruit you would not be unexpected."
"I'm not interested in school politics."
He stood from the chair.
The seat rolled backward slightly before stopping.
Running a hand through his hair, he looked toward the main platform.
"Send Charles a message."
Winter immediately nodded.
"What message?"
"I need a pickup later today."
"Done."
Of course it was.
Don wasn't entirely convinced Winter waited long enough to process anything.
He started walking toward the platform.
His boots struck the metal stairs with a steady rhythm.
Halfway across the platform, he noticed movement ahead.
Miss Claire had already risen from her seat.
She walked directly toward him.
Graceful as always. Even now.
Her clothes carried wrinkles from repeated wear. Her hair wasn't quite as immaculate as usual. Faint shadows rested beneath her eyes.
Four days underground affected everyone.
Yet somehow she still looked composed.
She stopped in front of him.
Close enough that he could clearly see the fatigue she otherwise hid.
"I was just coming to you."
Her voice remained professional. Though softer than normal.
"There's something I'd like to discuss."
Don studied her for a moment.
Then nodded.
"Alright." He gestured back toward the workstation.
Miss Claire shook her head.
A small movement.
"Somewhere more private."
Don glanced past her.
Samantha wasn't paying attention.
Amanda remained invested in monster trucks.
Summer and Sylvia were still arguing about mechanical design near the unfinished mech.
Nobody appeared interested in their conversation.
He looked back at Miss Claire.
"Lead the way."