The wind swept across the open plain where they had chosen to bury the bodies. The sky was a muted gray, heavy with silence. They had no shovels, so they had used whatever they could find—metal trays, broken seat backs from the crash, even bare hands. The two shallow graves were carved side by side, surrounded by a somber crowd. There were no prayers, no final words. Just silence.
Kaia stood with her arms folded tightly around her chest. Her eyes were swollen, her face pale. Some of the others cast glances at her—some sympathetic, some suspicious. After all, death had come fast and brutal to this place.
Zane showed up late. His boots crunched against the dry earth as he approached the gathering. All heads turned. The air grew colder.
"What are you doing here?" Leon asked, stepping forward. "You here to finish the job?"
Zane's eyes scanned the group, resting briefly on the fresh graves. "I have a right to be here," he said.
"No, you had the right before you stabbed Kul," someone else muttered.
"Right?" Zane's voice sharpened. "You want to talk about rights in a place with no laws? No rules? Let's not pretend we're something we're not."
A flashback unspooled in Kaia's mind—yesterday, not long after Kul had dropped to the ground, blood pooling beneath him.
Zane had stood with blood on his hands, the knife clattering to the dirt.
"You murdered him!" someone shouted.
Zane didn't flinch. "He got in my way."
"Because you were threatening the food system!" Leon said then, his voice shaking with fury.
"And who made you king?" Zane spat back. "You think you can tell me what to do? Out here?"
"Out here, we survive together, or we die alone," another voice cut in.
But Zane raised his voice, defiant. "There's no law here! No police. No courts. That man came at me. I defended myself. You think any of you can stop me if I decide to take what I need?"
"You killed him because he tried to hold you accountable!"
Zane had scoffed then. "Kul made his choice."
Back in the present, the silence was bitter and heavy. Leon stared at Zane. "You don't get to stand over their graves and pretend like you cared."
"I didn't say I cared," Zane replied, softer now. "I came to see what's left."
He looked at the graves again, but there was no sign of remorse in his eyes.
Leon stepped closer. "You think we forgot what happened? You think we forgot how your clock jumped after Kul died?"
A murmur passed through the group. Even now, no one could erase the memory: after Zane was tackled and pinned down, his watch flickered. His timer changed. Where once it read 1 month, 3 days, it now read 6 years, 4 months. The shift was instant, undeniable.
Some stepped back from Zane now, as if he carried death like a disease.
Leon broke the silence again. "We bury our dead. We honor them. And if you ever take another life, Zane... we won't let you walk away."
Zane didn't answer. He turned, walked to the edge of the crowd, and stood in silence. Watching. Waiting.
Kaia looked down at the graves, then at the wristwatch blinking quietly on her arm. 2 days, 7 hours. The numbers never stopped.
No one knew what would come next—but everyone knew this: time wasn't just ticking anymore. It was a weapon.
And someone had learned how to use it.