Chapter 70 A Sense of Crisis

Chapter 70 A Sense of Crisis
Yuan Ying had leveled twice during the day run and once more in the evening. Three levels total. She had been consistently faster to level than the average, which said something about her baseline — her Gene-Seed rank was probably C or above, rare enough to be notable. She came to me after her last kill of the night and didn't ask about stats. She asked: "How do you decide who fights in front and who stays back?" "Observation," I said. "I watch how people move, how they respond under stress, where their instincts go. Then I put people in roles that match what they already are rather than trying to remake them into something they're not." "And what am I?" I looked at her. Three levels in one day. Aggressive at the blade once she committed, fast reaction time, the kind of ego that in combat situations translated to not backing down when pressed. "Frontline," I said. "Eventually. You're not there yet — your technique needs work and your threat-reading is still developing. But the instincts are right." She looked like she had expected something different. Maybe something more guarded. "Okay," she said. "Then teach me the technique." "Tomorrow," I said. "It's dark." She looked at the sky, then back at me, and went to the truck without arguing. --- The light was gone by the time we drove back. I sat in the front of the truck and watched the dark streets go by. No Chitters visible — they were active at night but this area hadn't been heavily colonized yet. Scouts worked the perimeter in the dark, relay-mapping for the hive. The Soldier Castes came later, when the Scouts had established enough data to direct them. We had maybe two weeks before this area saw a coordinated Soldier push. Maybe less. The timing varied by density. We needed to be in Sacramento before that window closed. Ryan was in the back. I could hear him talking to Nathan in a low voice — not about the kills, about the stat allocation, running the math on what the numbers meant at higher levels. He was already thinking ahead. Good. --- Back at the van, Ava had kept things calm. The group that had stayed — Lin Qi, Cora, Priya, two others — had been quiet. Ava had given them tasks: inventory the supplies, check the vehicle fuel levels, map the closest water sources on Derek's atlas. Small, concrete things. The kind of work that kept hands busy and brains from spiraling. When we got back, the supplies were inventoried, the fuel was noted, and the atlas had three new annotations in Ava's precise handwriting. I looked at it. Then I looked at her. "Good," I said. She shrugged. "People do better with something to do." "Yes," I said. --- Zhang Li and Yuan Ying had set up food. Simple — canned goods, some dry goods from the supermarket run, nothing elaborate. But it was organized. Plates, portions measured out so everyone got the same, the water bottles rationed and set at each place. Zhang Li had done the measuring. Yuan Ying had done the carrying without complaining about it. The group ate. It was quiet for the first few minutes — the particular quiet of people who were hungry and tired and processing a day that had contained things they hadn't processed yet. Then the quiet started breaking open into smaller conversations. Jade asking Cora about the dormitory. Nathan telling Derek something about the leveling feel. Lin Qi, who had barely spoken in two days, asking Yuan Ying a question I couldn't hear. I ate and watched. Twenty-six people. The ones who had leveled today were already sitting differently — not dramatically, but there was a quality of groundedness in them that the others didn't have yet. The system didn't just make you physically stronger. It changed how you held yourself in a room. The ones who hadn't leveled could feel that difference even if they couldn't name it. They would catch up. I would see to it. After the meal, the group moved naturally toward the cleanup without being organized into it — Zhang Li started clearing, Yuan Ying joined her, then Lin Qi, then two of the dormitory girls. The others drifted back to the vehicles or found corners to sit in. Kira was sitting against the van's rear wheel with her legs stretched out, the pistol beside her, watching the group with the quiet attention she brought to everything. I sat down next to her. She didn't say anything for a moment. Then: "Three levels for Yuan Ying." "Yes." "That's fast." "Gene-Seed rank," I said. "C at minimum. Possibly B." Kira was quiet. "She doesn't know what that means yet." "No. She will." Ryan came and sat near us, close enough to be part of the conversation, far enough to be deferential about it. He had a bottle of water in his hand that he turned in his fingers without drinking from it. "The dark hours," he said. "What's the threat level tonight?" "Scouts are active," I said. "They won't engage unless we give them a reason. No loud noise, no lights visible from the street, no movement outside the vehicles." "And if something comes anyway?" "Ava has the perimeter. Wake me if she signals." He nodded and stood up. I looked at the sky. The rifts were visible to the south. Three of them, the same three from Ridgecrest. Their edges pulsed in the irregular, slow rhythm that Thorne described as a countdown rather than a signal. Eight to fourteen months. I needed the group at a level where they could hold ground by then. Not just survive a single Chitter patrol — hold ground. The difference between those two things was measured in levels and training and the kind of trust that came from surviving things together. Today was one day. We had enough days to work with. I closed my eyes and listened to the group settle around me. Tomorrow: highway north. Sacramento. Whatever came with it. Tonight: rest. For once, that was enough.