It wasn’t until a little after ten at night that Ethan and Mia finally came out of the room.

They were both tasting the "forbidden fruit" for the first time, and with their strength... it was only natural things would run long.

When they stepped out, Ethan looked refreshed and ridiculously satisfied. Mia, on the other hand, was flushed bright red, head lowered, too embarrassed to meet anyone’s eyes.

"Oh wow, you two finally decided to show your faces?" Chris said with a grin. "I was starting to think you were gonna fight it out till sunrise."

"For real," Big Mike chimed in. "Damn, Cap... didn’t know you had that kind of stamina!"

Ethan didn’t even try to answer. He just coldly changed the subject. "Did anyone make dinner? I’m starving."

"Captain, you literally just ate not that long ago." Big Mike stared at him. "Does it really burn that much stamina?"

"Go find a girl and try it sometime. You’ll get it." Ethan rolled his eyes. "Alright, enough gossip. Tell the kitchen to get something on the table."

He couldn’t let these idiots keep going, or Mia was going to crawl into a hole and die of shame.

She might’ve been bold at the critical moment, but normally her skin was thin as paper. She blushed at the slightest thing.

"Alright, alright." Everyone knew what Mia was like, so they eased off and dropped it.

Emily, though, hooked an arm around Mia and dragged her over to the sofa off to the side, whispering something in her ear.

Ethan glanced over. He couldn’t hear a word, but he didn’t really need to. The way Mia’s face kept getting redder... it definitely wasn’t a wholesome conversation.

Not long after, the food came out—an entire table full, surprisingly lavish.

They all sat down. Ethan eyed the huge bowl of chicken stew placed in front of him and frowned. "Didn’t you say we were running low on mutant chicken? Why are we stewing it again?"

"That one earlier didn’t seem like enough," Chris said, grinning like a criminal. "Figured you might need a second round."

Ethan rolled his eyes, didn’t bother responding, and lifted the bowl.

He drank it down like he was trying to drown his pride.

"Hey—slow down..." Mia, sitting beside him, hurriedly pulled out a napkin and dabbed at his mouth.

"Wow." Emily leaned in, smiling sharp. "Look at Mia—already taking care of him like that."

Mia’s face turned even redder, but her hands didn’t stop.

She’d liked Ethan for a long time, but she’d never dared do things like this before. Ethan’s attitude had always been... unclear. She never knew what he was thinking, so she’d just kept it buried, quietly, in her chest.

This time, when everyone insisted she deliver the stew, she’d seen the setup instantly. She wasn’t stupid.

But she hadn’t refused. She’d planned to use his "weak" state to get closer, to build up a little momentum.

She just hadn’t expected the stew to work that well—things had escalated way faster than she’d imagined.

Now that she thought about it, that bowl probably wasn’t just "nutritious." There had to be something else mixed in.

But she couldn’t bring herself to blame them. If anything, she wanted to thank them—because they’d basically shoved her straight across the finish line.

Otherwise, with how dense Ethan could be, she had no idea how long it would’ve taken him to finally make a move.

And once that line had been crossed, everything after it felt... natural. Even the teasing didn’t feel awkward anymore.

Honestly, she could guess why they’d done it.

It was simple: as long as their captain—Ethan—had done it first, the rest of them could go chase what they wanted without feeling guilty.

Because if Ethan was still single... how were they supposed to have the nerve to date openly?

Feeling Mia’s gentle care, Ethan couldn’t help but smile. For a split second, he thought... maybe this wasn’t so bad.

He’d always worried that if the two of them got together, it would mess with the team’s coordination.

Looking at everyone now, he realized he’d been overthinking it.

"Man," Henry groaned, "I’m already full just watching you two."

"You can call your Vivian over, too," Ethan said with a laugh.

"Yeah, no." Henry waved him off. "We’re not at that level yet. A few hours, man... Jesus."

"Stop," Ethan cut in, pointing his chopsticks like a warning. "Eat."

"Alright, alright."

Ethan set his bowl down, then looked up. "By the way... what’s today’s date?"

"September thirteenth," Henry said. After a beat, his voice turned a little quieter. "Which means... as of today, it’s been exactly one year since the apocalypse."

"...Yeah." Ethan exhaled. "A year. Feels like everything changed."

"Mm."

Who would’ve thought that a year ago they were just college students?

And a year later, they were standing at the top of the world.

It was messed up to admit, but the apocalypse had made them.

If it hadn’t happened, they would’ve graduated like normal and gone job-hunting. With no connections, no background, no money or resources, they probably would’ve lived painfully average lives.

After the apocalypse hit, they’d bled for every step they took—but they’d gotten something back for it, too.

If the Void Realm didn’t exist, they could’ve been living comfortably in Fallen Star City right now, sleeping easy and enjoying the good life.

But the Void Realm hung over their heads like a bomb they couldn’t disarm. Nobody knew when it would go off.

And once it did, everything they’d built could vanish overnight.

The Atlas Federation only had thirteen major compounds left. Every other compound—large, medium, small—was gone.

And if the Void Realm launched a full-scale invasion... how many of those major compounds would actually survive?

The most likely outcome was humanity abandoning the hard-won compounds all over again—breaking apart, scattering into smaller groups, scraping out survival wherever they could. That was the only way to preserve the human bloodline.

But Ethan didn’t want that.

He didn’t want to live like a stray dog, constantly running, constantly hiding.

He wanted to carve out a place for humanity—for the Atlas Federation—to actually live.

People could call him a thief. He didn’t even deny it.

But when it came to what mattered, he still had his responsibility.

None of it meant anything without strength, though. Without enough power, it was all just talk.

By the time they finished eating, it was close to midnight.

After that, everyone headed straight up to the rooftop terrace.

Stargazing to absorb mysterious energy was a nightly requirement at this point.

Once the Nine-Star Dipper appeared, mysterious energy became wildly active—and the Body Refinement Technique had to rely on the Nine-Star Dipper to improve.

So even after they’d built ritual circles, none of them had ever skipped their nightly session.

Time crept forward.

At exactly midnight, the Nine-Star Dipper arrived right on schedule.

But this time, it wasn’t alone.

A star—familiar, yet somehow strange—appeared almost at the same moment.

A blazing crimson star.

Right where Polaris used to be, an eye-searing red point of light ignited in the sky, hanging beside the Nine-Star Dipper like a wound torn open in the heavens.

The instant they saw it, shock rippled across everyone’s faces.

That star hadn’t shown itself since the very first day of the apocalypse.

Back then, Ethan had thought he’d imagined it. He and Chris had been half-drunk and barely coherent.

But later, after meeting more people, he’d realized the truth.

The Crimson Star was real.

It had appeared after Polaris fell.

And almost every Awakened had seen it.

Meaning... the Awakened themselves had been created by the Crimson Star.

But after that first night, it had vanished—never appearing again.

Now it was back.

And whether that was good news or the beginning of something far worse... nobody could say.