CHAPTER 46: CHAPTER 46: WHAT YOU’RE ASKING OF ME

"We lost."

Adam didn’t respond.

He heard Grace’s words—they were so clear, almost to the point that it rang through his ears and pierced through his skull. But even then, he didn’t understand them.

He refused to.

His breath turned heavier, uneven. His fingers started to twitch, wanting to reach for something—anything—to distract him. His eyes moved everywhere, searching, desperate.

And then, he saw it. The steel pipe resting beside Grace.

He quickly let go of Grace’s hand and grabbed the pipe instead. He squeezed it so tight that he stretched the skin of his palm, almost.

"Where... where is it? Where’s the crystal?" His voice trembled, the words coming straight from his throat.

"Where’s—"

Before he could finish his words, Grace pulled him down.

Her arms wrapped around him before he could escape again, like a mother calming a child after a nightmare.

A nightmare...if only that was all this was.

Adam’s entire body froze, his lungs holding his breath and his mind screaming at him to keep moving—but before he could pull away, another pair of tiny arms held him down.

Little Samantha.

She clung to him and Grace, burying her face between them

"It’s over," Grace whispered. "It’s over... Adam."

Adam was still holding his breath. His wild eyes that were darting everywhere finally settled on the others.

His fellow Red creeps.

No—not anymore.

The Halos that once hovered above their heads were gone.

Even his.

He reached up, fingers brushing through the empty air above his own head, his chest rising and falling with shallow, panicked breaths.

He felt his chest start to tighten. He felt... well, he didn’t know what he felt.

There was a hollow ache. A twisting in his gut. Suffocating.

And slowly, his grip on the pipe loosened.

And then, as it made a soft sound as it hit the grass, Adam felt something inside him snap.

His body, his everything, gave in. He collapsed into Grace’s embrace, his arms wrapping tightly around her and Samantha without thought, without reason—only instinct.

And before he even realized it, before he could stop himself... his lungs could no longer hold his breath, and it burst out. They burst out with a cry so loud.

His tears poured from his eyes, soaking into Grace’s shoulder.

He didn’t just cry.

He wailed.

Raw, broken, loud—like a child who had lost everything. Like a child.

His shoulders trembled, his breaths ragged, his fingers softly gripping onto them like Grace and Samantha were the only things keeping him from falling apart.

And...perhaps they were. They are.

"I’m so... I’m so sorry." His voice cracked, shaking as he clenched his jaw. "I failed... I failed to protect you. I failed to save you both. I promised...I promised and I..."

Grace didn’t let go.

She only smiled, pressing her cheek against his head as she ran her fingers through his hair.

"You did." She whispered. "You did protect us. You did save us, Adam."

"No... no, I didn’t." Adam’s throat burned, but the words still fought their way out. "I’m sorry... I’m so sorry."

Samantha also whimpered.

Her small cries finally sounded like those of a child. A real child, fragile, afraid. She was finally allowed to be a child again. A baby.

Grace only held them both tighter.

"Shhh..." She rocked Samantha gently, her touch and breath warm. "We tried our best. That’s... that’s what matters."

She wanted to cry.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she whispered, her fingers still stroking Adam’s hair, "And what did I say about apologizing? No more, right?"

Adam’s entire body surrendered again. He whimpered against her shoulder, his tears soaking into her skin—until he had no more left to cry.

Minutes passed. Maybe more.

Finally, his breath steadied. His grip loosened.

He pulled back slightly, eyes red, swollen, exhausted. Grace gave him a small smile and reached up, gently wiping the tears from his face.

Adam blinked, his vision blurry, but he gently held Grace’s hand and looked into her eyes.

"...Why are we still alive?" His voice was hoarse.

Grace hesitated. Then, slowly, she looked up.

Adam followed her gaze.

The giant clock was still there. Hanging above them—but now moving backwards.

Thirty minutes, and counting down.

Ticking down.

Grace exhaled, then turned to Adam with a soft shrug, a small, tired smile tugging at her lips.

Samantha followed their gaze—and then, suddenly, once again buried herself deeper into her mother’s arms.

"I’m scared... so scared, Mommy. I’m so scared."

Her tiny voice wavered, whimpered.

Grace’s arms tightened around her. "Shh... shhh."

She pressed her lips together, biting hard to keep her voice steady. Then, as she looked at Adam—her eyes turned completely red, but she refused to give in.

Instead, she gently stroked Samantha’s hair.

"It’s okay, sweetie. You can go to sleep."

Samantha sniffled, gripping onto her mother’s sleeve.

Grace swallowed, forcing her voice to stay calm, steady, certain.

"Nothing’s going to happen. And when you wake up..."

Her lips trembled at the lie.

"...We’ll be at the beach, okay? We’ll be at the beach, having fun."

Samantha blinked up at her.

Then, slowly, she closed her eyes.

"With... with Mister?" She murmured sleepily.

Grace opened her mouth—but she couldn’t speak.

She knew if she tried, her voice would break. She looked at Adam again, pleading with him.

And so, before the silence could stretch too long, he reached out, taking Grace’s hand in his own.

Then, with his other hand, he also gently brushed Samantha’s hair.

His fingers trembled. But still, he whispered—

"Yes. I’ll... be there."

Samantha let out a small, soft breath.

"O...okay."

Her tiny body relaxed, her fingers loosening their grip.

"...I like Mister and Mommy."

And with that, she drifted off to sleep.

They made sure to be quiet after that, letting the clock above them tick down. The seconds felt like hours, and each tick echoed in the empty stadium.

Adam watched the numbers decrease. All the loss, the pain, it crushed down on him—and all he could do was let it. But he wasn’t alone.

At least he wasn’t alone in carrying it all.

"Adam..." Grace shifted slightly, careful not to wake Samantha as she whispered to him.

Adam looked at her, but she didn’t say anything after that. She only looked at her daughter, caressing her cheek. But as a deep, whistling breath escaped Samantha’s lips, Grace reached behind her back and pulled something out.

A knife.

The blade immediately caught the reflection of Adam’s confusion.

He stared at the weapon, not knowing what it was doing there.

But then, Grace offered him the knife.

And he understood.

He felt the weight in Grace’s eyes as they moved to Samantha’s sleeping face.

And he... understood.

It took everything in him not to tremble. The world seemed to collapse around him, and all he could hear was his heart pounding. So hard it might burst from his chest.

This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be what she was asking.

"Can you do it?"