Across the gap, on the rooftop where everything nearly ended, three Hollowed now stood.
Still and watching.
None of them moved. They just observed, eyes glowing faint in the daylight.
Like they had no intention of chasing. Like they knew this was enough for today.
And for once, we agreed with them.
Boss took one deliberate step back, placing a hand on my shoulder, and the other on Kaela's.
"Everyone off the roof," he said, voice low but clear. "No sudden moves. Quiet. Now."
Nobody argued. Not with those things standing still like they were waiting for permission.
We came down in silence, boots thudding softly against wood and metal, the air thick with something unspoken. No one looked back up toward the rooftop.
Boss was the last to descend, eyes lingering on the eastern skyline a moment longer before he followed us. At the base of the ladder, he turned to Mira, the camp's medic, his voice low but clipped.
"Check Kaela and Noah. Now."
Mira didn't ask questions. She gave a nod and gestured us toward the infirmary corner where a salvaged examination cot sat beneath one of the solar lamps. Kaela hissed slightly as Mira rolled up her sleeve, revealing bruises deepening into angry purple, with a shallow cut across her upper bicep.
"It's not deep," Mira said, examining the wound. "But it'll scar."
Kaela shrugged. "Better than the alternative."
Mira turned to me next. My shoulder was stiff, aching under the layers of sweat and adrenaline. She prodded gently, then wrapped it with cloth laced in pain-suppressant herbs.
"You'll live," she muttered. "Try not to lift anything heavier than your pride for the next few days."
Kaela snorted softly. I gave a half-smile that didn't quite reach.
Boss was already walking away, muttering something to Tran, who nodded and split off toward the perimeter check crew. The camp had slipped into motion around us, the tension quiet but humming beneath every movement.
Then Boss's voice rang out across the corridor: "Meeting. Twenty minutes. Reading hall."
People paused. Heads turned. But no one questioned it.
And twenty minutes later, as the sun dipped lower and the rooftop had been cleared, perimeter checks reinforced, and nerves partially swallowed, we met in the old reading hall—now just the command room with blackout cloth on the windows and a salvaged whiteboard leaning against stacked supply crates. Boss stood at the front, arms crossed, jaw locked.
I sat near the end of the row. Kaela beside me. Mira. Tran. Leni. Dana. Jace. Everyone who needed to hear what he was going to say.
Boss looked over us. Silent. Calculating. Then he finally spoke.
"They didn't cross the gap. They had time. And distance. And clear advantage. But they just watched."
Dana folded her arms, skeptical. "And that means what? We throw them a thank-you party for restraint?"
"It means," Boss said slowly, "they weren't here to kill. Not then, anyway."
Mira leaned forward. "The one that hit Noah? That wasn't wild movement. It was too precise. Controlled. It knew what it was doing."
Leni nodded. "The rest of them didn't just shuffle around either. They moved like they were trained. Like... a unit."
Tran rubbed his jaw. "Yeah, but that's not new-new. Remember Year Two? Hollowed still moved in sync then. Before they started degrading."
"And they stopped," Boss added. "For over a decade now, they've been slow. Mindless. Night-only movers. But today? They were awake. In daylight. And waiting."
The room fell into a short silence. Kaela kept her eyes on the floor, jaw tight.
"So, what are you saying?" Dana asked. "That they're coming back from the dead… again?"
Boss didn't flinch. "I'm saying something changed. Either an old system's waking up, or something new is driving them. Either way, we treat this like a new phase."
He let the words hang before continuing.
"Effective now. No one leaves without rooftop clearance. All scouting pauses unless I give the green light. Watch shifts double. Curfew's extended past dusk. No exceptions."
A few murmurs rose. No arguments. Just the low rumble of fear trying to find footing.
Under the table, Kaela's hand slipped into mine. I didn't squeeze back. I couldn't. Not with the way silence wrapped around the room like it was listening.
----
A week passed.
Kaela's arm started healing. Mira's bandaging helped. My shoulder bruises dulled, but the dull ache at night never left.
What replaced the pain was worse: the waiting.
Because the Hollowed never left.
They didn't press the camp. Didn't scream. Didn't claw at walls.
They just waited.
Every morning, Leni and the rooftop scouts would whisper the same thing:
"They're still there. Same three. Same rooftop. Watching."
Sometimes they'd walk along the ridgelines. Sometimes just stand for hours, unmoving. But they never stepped closer. Never once crossed that invisible line.
We layered the walls. Doubled up on foam padding, made the airlocks tighter. Boss rechecked every trap and silent alarm himself. But none of it stopped the growing tension.
Even the children knew something was off. They whispered quieter. Played less. Drew pictures of shapes on rooftops that weren't birds. Some began asking if ghosts could wear bodies. Some began sleeping in groups.
Jace started sleeping in the gear room, too spooked to stay near the east wall. Dana went mute for two days straight. Tran proposed a fallback tunnel west. Boss didn't dismiss the idea.
And me?
I became a rumor.
"It started when he left camp."
"No one saw them before that run."
"Maybe he brought something back."
Kaela shut down the louder whispers. But the quiet ones? They traveled.
I tried to stay useful. Updating maps. Checking jammer sync. Running cable. Keeping my head down.
But silence followed me. A silence that felt full. Like someone breathing too close behind you.
Even my dreams were turning.
In one, I stood in the camp's courtyard, but everyone was frozen. Statues. No one moved. Then their heads all turned at once—toward me. And the Hollowed? They were inside, sitting like they belonged. Eating from our plates. Wearing our coats. Smiling.
I woke up gasping, fingers clenched so hard my nails had cut into my palms.
Midweek. Just after curfew.
I slipped up to the northern rooftop. Alone.
Kaela had finally fallen asleep, curled against my side. I left her without a word.
From the top, I could see the eastern skyline. Sharp. Skeletal.
And there they were.
Three Hollowed.
Still watching.
One of them leaned forward slightly, like it was listening.
I didn't move. Didn't blink.
They didn't turn. Didn't twitch. But I knew they saw me. Knew they wanted me to see them.
Ten minutes passed. Then Kaela appeared beside me. No words. Just her jacket draped over one arm, eyes squinting from half-sleep.
"You could've woken me," she said softly.
"Didn't want to," I replied.
She sat down beside me, pulling her scarf tighter.
We stared across the distance.
"They're not going to attack, are they?" she asked.
I shook my head. "They're not here for that."
"Then what?"
"I don't know."
She leaned against me. Her warmth a reminder that I was still here. Still breathing.
The silence wasn't comforting anymore. It felt like a pause. A held breath. A note stretched too long on a broken piano.
"They've never done this," Kaela murmured. "Not in years. Not since the first waves."
"No," I said. "Not like this."
She stared at them. At how still they were. How patient.
"It's not just instinct," she said. "They're... following something."
I nodded. "Different rules. Different orders."
"What if this is a reset?" she asked. "Like a new phase in whatever we're still stuck inside."
She looked down at the camp, quiet lights flickering through heavy cloth. "Everyone's waiting for an answer, Noah. For something to tell them this is still something we can understand. But what if it isn't?"
I thought of the chip in my satchel. The one I hadn't told anyone about. Not even Kaela. My fingers twitched.
"If they're following orders again..." I began, voice hushed, "...then someone might be giving them."
She turned to me, face pale. "You think EVA is active?"
The question lingered in the air, heavier than the chill around us. I didn't answer. Not because I didn't have thoughts, but because the thoughts I did have weren't ready to be said aloud.
Kaela didn't press. She just stared out again at the rooftop silhouettes, brows drawn tight like she was trying to see something beneath the surface. Like there was a message encoded in their stillness.
A few seconds passed. Then a few more.
"Do you remember what it was like, back in the first few years?" I asked finally. My voice came out quieter than I expected.
Kaela turned toward me slightly. "The fear was constant. But it had shape. Direction. You could track it. You knew when to run. When to hide."
I nodded. "Now it just... waits with us."
We sat in silence again, but it wasn't passive. We were watching the watchers, trying to find a crack in their intent. Trying to make sense of a pattern that didn't exist yet.
"Do you think the others are right?" I asked. "That I brought this back with me? That it started because I stepped outside the wire?"
She was quiet, then shook her head. "No. But I think something followed you. Not your fault. But maybe it chose you. And maybe it's not done."
"Whatever it is, it saw you. And now it's waiting to see what you do next." she added, though it felt more like a question than a conclusion.
I looked back toward the Hollowed.
They hadn't moved and they were still there. Patient. A silent audience.
We, on the other hand, were guessing and hoping the rules we lived by still applied.
Across the rooftops, three Hollowed stood under the moonlight.
Waiting for the rest of the world to catch up.