Anchor

Valenti nodded. "I heard."

"I think Shawn might not be suited for frontline combat." Calvin spoke, his words somewhat halting as he carefully chose them. "Whether it's his personality or his abilities, he still has some—"

"The base will naturally take those things into consideration." Valenti smiled. "Given the current situation, Shawn may indeed not be ready to take on missions yet. But you needn't worry. We won't let any reserve member recklessly face danger before they're prepared. Besides, not every Quicksilver Needle is meant to charge into the front lines. Division of labor and cooperation will always be important."

Hearing this, Calvin finally let out a sigh of relief.

He could not help lightly thumping his chest a few times, as though he had been unburdened, though there was still an inexpressible worry and heaviness in him.

By evening, both Hesta and Liz had returned to the student apartments.

After returning to her room, Hesta collapsed straight onto her bed and fell asleep. She did not wake until after eight at night. The base cafeteria was probably closed by then, so she decided to make herself something in the kitchen outside. But the thought remained only a thought. She lay motionless on the bed for a long while.

It was completely dark outside, though a little light still filtered into the room. Perhaps it came from a streetlamp, or perhaps from something else. At times, she could hear murmured conversation outside, but she could not tell whether it came from downstairs or from a window somewhere beneath the apartment.

Hesta felt that hazy, dreamlike sensation again. She remembered the songs Liz had sung that day. She could no longer recall the so-called Quicksilver Needle battle songs, yet the Askia chant whose lyrics she could not understand had left a particularly deep impression on her.

Liz had introduced her to several members of the base that day. Hesta felt that this was probably because, in the days since entering the base, she had barely interacted with any newcomers apart from her roommates in 403 and a few teachers here.

Liz had created this opportunity both to take her out of the apartment for a walk on Sunday and to help her expand her social circle a little.

Liz must have been an older sister at home. Otherwise, the way she cared for Hesta would not have been so natural and considerate.

Hesta sighed softly. Whether in Duanming Alley or Saint Anne Abbey, her connection to the world around her had never seemed deep enough. Yet in those places, there had always been someone like an anchor, gripping tightly onto her so she would not become a drifting shadow forever hovering at the edges.

Here, it was Liz. At the abbey, it had been Boheng. In Duanming Alley... it had been Mom.

Sometimes, Hesta did not understand why some people could possess so many wishes and so much strength, forever longing for the future, forever burning like a torch.

Thinking of the past, Hesta got out of bed barefoot and walked over to the small side table by the window.

She sat down on the cast-iron chair, her feet resting on the soft carpet.

She gently swung her feet, letting the carpet brush against the tops of them.

Hesta pressed her cheek against the table, hooked her fingertips around its edge, and lay facedown on the tabletop.

Moonlight spilled across the room, illuminating the glass cloche on the side table. She looked at the paper rose standing inside it and felt her heart grow calm once more.

But this alone was not enough. At a time like this, someone should have been standing in the distance.

There should have been a hand gently stroking her hair.

Hesta's gaze slowly shifted to the silver key beneath the rose—the one Chiba had given her a few days ago. She had kept it together with the paper rose beneath the glass cloche.

She stared at the key. After a while, Hesta gently lifted the cloche and took it out.

She got up, turned on the light in her room, found a string, threaded the key onto it, and hung it around her neck.

But after looking at herself in the mirror for a while, Hesta felt that it looked a little silly and far too conspicuous. So she cut the string again, wrapped it around her wrist several times, and tied it there.

With her long sleeves down, nothing could be seen.

After fussing with it for more than ten minutes, the laziness that had kept her from moving earlier had completely faded. Hesta felt hungry again, so she got up and headed outside.

When she opened the door, she saw Liz lying sideways on the sofa beneath the living room window, a book in her hands.

The two silently greeted each other. Hesta walked over to a storage corner beside the kitchen, took out a bottle of purified water, and gulped down several large mouthfuls.

She did not notice that she was standing directly in Liz's light, but Liz said nothing. She merely set her book aside. "Were you sleeping in your room just now?"

"Mm." Hesta nodded. "I got a little hungry, so I came out to make something to eat."

Liz lay there and watched Hesta work. Her idea of making something to eat was boiling two eggs in plain water. Hesta still seemed unfamiliar with the induction stove. Only after she saw the black surface glow red and made sure the thing was actually hot did she pick up a yukihira pan, fill it with water, and set it on top.

The sight made Liz want to laugh.

Perhaps Hesta herself did not realize it, but when she was not smiling, her expression looked a little fierce. That was probably why most people had not taken the initiative to greet her. Every time she went to the grammar classroom and sat down, she gave off an icy aura. Her wary face practically read, "Keep strangers away."

Hesta still looked a little fierce now, but her clumsy movements made her seem rather amusing.

Liz did not go over to help. However, when Hesta looked around for something, she softly said, "The lid is in the cabinet below."

Hesta crouched down at once and quickly found the pot lid.

After getting everything roughly sorted out, Hesta casually wiped her wet hands on her clothes.

When she turned around, Liz had already resumed her earlier reading posture.

"Tulan still hasn't come back?" Hesta asked casually. Over the past few days, she had barely seen either of her other two roommates. She knew Ligo was still receiving treatment in the underground hospital, but it was indeed strange that Tulan was nowhere to be seen either.

"Mm. It feels like she's been pushing herself so hard in extra training lately that she's gotten a little obsessed." Liz shifted slightly. "But the support center said it was best not to interfere. It's good for her to have an outlet to vent through."

Hesta walked over to the large table in the living room, pulled out a chair, and sat down. "I looked up Catra City yesterday."

Liz set her book down again and turned toward Hesta. "Mm?"

Hesta continued, "It seemed to be a Habitable Zone in District 4. When the incident happened, the Quicksilver Needles intervened in time, so there weren't too many casualties... was that right?"

"Mm."

"Then... was there some hidden reason why she's so obsessed with fighting?"

"Mm... how should I put it?"

Liz thought for a while, then continued, "Generally speaking, most Chelated Beings that appear in Habitable Zones come from the wastelands. They use some method or exploit some loophole to bypass the isolation belt, break through the basic defenses around the Habitable Zone, and enter the city. So to the victims, these Chelated Beings are monsters that fell from the sky—we call them 'Secondary Chelated Beings.'"

"And situations like the one you encountered at the abbey, where someone around you became infected and eventually fell ill, are called 'Primary Chelated Beings.'"

Liz reached up to scratch her head, then looked back down at the book in her hands.

"Compared to them, victims of Secondary Chelated Beings tend to hate Chelated Beings more deeply, more purely, and have a stronger desire to fight." Liz paused. "It's... only human, I suppose."