Chapter 29 - Corpsehaven's Judgement

The main gates creaked open, their heavy metal groaning as if protesting the movement. The sound vibrated ominously through the dead city, a low hum beneath the chaotic chatter of the crowd. They pushed and shouted over one another, their voices rising into a cacophony of desperation. As the first few attempted to force their way into the cradle that had opened, they were stopped abruptly—a shimmering rune formation burst to life. A straight line of inscribed bricks behind the gates glowed faintly, inert until unauthorized contact was made, now radiating vibrant energy that repelled them like an invisible wall.

Guards assigned to duty strode through the distraught crowd. Their presence silenced the mass momentarily, confusion dimming the noise. One of the guards scanned the haggard faces before pointing decisively. “You, you over there, and you with the hat, follow me,” he ordered, his voice cutting through the tension.

“I can’t go with you without my family,” the engineer protested, gesturing to an elderly woman and two young girls clinging to her skirts.

“Bring them along then,” the guard replied brusquely, his gaze already moving further into the sea of faces. He scanned the injured, the gaunt, the terrified. It was nearly impossible to distinguish between citizens of River and Rivermirror now. The apocalypse had erased such distinctions. After what felt like an eternity, his eyes locked onto a figure—the remaining vitaecer. “You come along as well,” he commanded.

Each selected individual was stamped on the back of their hands with an i***a-tattoo brand. The mark shimmered faintly, an identification allowing them to pass through the runic protections unscathed. It was also a symbol of affiliation with the city to be built: Corpsehaven.

The crowd fell silent, holding their breath, hopeful to be chosen next. Their hopes crumbled as the gates began to creak closed, the metallic grind echoing through the still air. Faces twisted in despair, then erupted in rage. A wave of bodies surged against the barrier, clawing, pleading, forcing their way toward salvation. But the barrier responded cruelly—those who made contact dissolved, their flesh melting away like acid to skin. Screams filled the air as the massive doors slammed shut, sealing the city once more.

Desperation turned to primal terror as a piercing screech rent the air. The sound was unearthly, more akin to the cry of a beast than a human. Over the gates flew thick webs, sizzling and disintegrating as they touched the magical barrier. The webs were dense, their size indicating the source—an infected spider, large enough to dwarf a human.

Inside, Evee sat alone in her dimly lit quarters. The weight of her decisions pressed down on her, an oppressive burden she could not shake. The room was bare, save for a single chair and a small mattress in the corner. Evee stood motionless, staring at a blank wall as if it could offer her solace. Her thoughts swirled with guilt, her helping nature clashing violently with the harsh reality of survival.

The silence was broken by the soft creak of a door opening. Evee didn’t turn.

“Why?” Justina’s voice cut through the quiet, not a question but an accusation. “Because the stupid book says so?”

“I don’t need this from you right now. Leave. I would like to be alone,” Evee said, her voice steady yet trembling as she turned to face Justina. She wiped at her reddened eyes, attempting to mask her tears.

Justina’s voice softened, the edge replaced with a quiet plea. “We don’t have to listen to him. We can live our own lives… make our own choices.”

“It’s not that simple, baby,” Evee replied, her face etched with sympathy.

“What is it? Are you afraid of him?” Justina pressed, stepping closer. “You are Evee. You brought River to its knees, yet you fear just one man?”

Evee shook her head. “No, I just believe we’re doing the right thing. We’re just going about it the wrong way.”

The proximity revealed the depth of Evee’s sorrow, and Justina’s resolve faltered. She pulled Evee into a tight embrace. “I’m sorry. I know it’s never easy being a leader. I’m just upset,” she murmured.

Evee reached for Justina’s face, drawing her into a soft kiss. Their bodies pressed together, fitting like pieces of the same puzzle. Evee gently guided her toward the old, stained mattress in the corner of the room.

Justina hesitated, her confusion breaking through. “People are dying outside as we speak, and this is all you can think about?”

“As your leader, I need my thoughts to be clear in order to make the right decisions for your survival. And it is your job to clear my thoughts. So shut up and serve your purpose,” Evee whispered, her tone quiet yet commanding.

The words sent a shiver through Justina, her body warming under the intensity. Her protests melted away as Evee pulled her closer onto the mattress. Evee’s lips trailed to her neck, her hands exploring Justina’s thighs as their bodies intertwined.

Evee paused, her gaze locking onto Justina’s. Her eyes were filled with a mix of authority and tenderness. “What?” Justina asked, her face flushed as she tried to cover it with her arm.

“I understand the consequences of my actions. Don’t take that tone with me ever again. Do you understand?” Evee’s voice was firm but soft, her intensity unwavering.

A long, silent stare followed before Justina nodded in acceptance. She pulled Evee closer, their lips meeting once more as the moment consumed them.