Some time later, hydrated, waterskins full, and fully refreshed under the shade of palm trees that were harvested for slightly tough dates, the group had a breather.

The oasis changed once you weren’t dying. The shade felt like an actual shelter instead of a fragile lie.

The dates were chewy, fibrous, not sweet enough to be satisfying, but sugar was sugar and energy was energy. People ate more slowly now, savoring not flavor but the fact they were chewing something that wasn’t desperation.

Looking above their heads, the Fracture levels never increased; in fact, in Christy’s case it dropped all the way to 29. While Garron was in the low twenties.

Kael noticed the numbers without reacting. It mattered. A stable group meant fewer knives in the back. Less paranoia. Less hunger turning into "logic."

But a few of them were still not too keen on staying in one spot. The old man, for example, has been moving around the bushes and checking if Kael missed a snake or something. He went the long way to prove that whatever anyone did was not good enough, though in Kael’s case, he’ll always end up short.

The hooded guy went somewhere deeper into the oasis. It wasn’t too large, but it wasn’t small either, and his knowledge of the place seemed slightly above natural. Like he belonged here almost.

The skinny kid stuck to Kael’s side for most of the morning until he got interested in what looked like the source of the oasis, trying to find a ’cleaner spot to drink from so he doesn’t have to wait for water to boil and cool down. Garron, on the other hand, was the only one worried about how to fit even more water in his backpack, only to find out it refuses to accept anything inside it that wasn’t in it in the first place.

"Let’s take a look at that foot of yours," Kael said as he finished setting up a small campfire with the skinned body of the snake he caught earlier.

He didn’t make the fire big, just enough to cook and warm, not enough to signal half the desert. The snake meat sizzled when it hit the heat, fat dripping and popping. The smell was strong. Not pleasant, but real. Protein. Survival.

"You’re doing too much," she said.

Her tone wasn’t accusing. More like tired surprise. Like she didn’t understand why anyone would spend extra effort on someone who couldn’t pay it back.

Kael didn’t answer immediately. Of course, he kept an eye on the people around them; they weren’t trustworthy, no one was. But at least one needs to know where the dagger is before it digs into you. With them spread around like this, it was less things to worry about. No one here was the kind to help for no obvious goal, and Kael’s goal was just to survive this floor. And proceed to the next. Safely, and if he had to carry injured people to do so, then he’ll suck it up.

"I know I am. But this is the only way to survive," he removed the gauze from her foot and noticed that her foot was turning red. Not just the blood.

The skin around the wound was angry, swelling in a way that didn’t match healing. Heat radiated off it. The kind of heat that meant your body was fighting something, and sometimes losing.

He clicked his tongue.

"What is it?" She asked.

"Infection, you’ll need to sterilize the wound." He said.

"It’s not like there is a pharmacy nearby." She said.

"There is..."

The voice was unfamiliar. Turning, Kael saw the man who had a cloth over his face the entire time.

This was the first time he spoke.

It wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be. Everyone heard it anyway because the moment someone is quiet and finally talks, the whole room listens.

"Palm trees, their leaves, and the seeds have a lot of tannins. Boil some of the leaves in the water and use them to clean the wound. Crush the leaves and make them into a paste, apply it around the wound, then wrap it with a boiled and sun-baked cloth, which should help."

He said it like he’d done it before. Like it was routine. Then he stood, turned away from the group again, like he hadn’t just given them the most useful information anyone had offered all day.

He then turned around and left.

"You got all that?" she said.

Kael watched the man’s back for a second longer than necessary. The tower had all kinds, mute-looking killers, polite monsters, quiet survivors who knew too much. The fact the guy had medical knowledge in a desert trial wasn’t comforting. It was suspicious.

"I’m still surprised he talked. I thought he was a mute." Kael snorted.

But then, he proceeded to do as instructed.

He collected leaves, boiled water again, and let the mixture darken until it smelled sharp and bitter. Christy flinched when the warm tannin water hit the wound, jaw tightening so hard it looked like she’d crack a tooth, but she didn’t scream. Kael watched her reaction like a gauge, how much pain she could swallow before it swallowed her back.

He crushed leaves into paste, pressed it around the wound, and wrapped it with cloth he’d boiled and dried as best as the desert allowed. It wasn’t pretty. It wasn’t "medical." It was survival medicine, the kind that worked because the alternative was rot.

After a few hours, when the snake was cooked, and bellies filled, and thirst chased away.

Even the old man stopped scowling long enough to chew in peace. The skinny kid ate too fast and almost choked, then pretended he didn’t. Garron ate in measured bites, saving some even though his eyes wanted more. Kael ate enough to keep his body from complaining, then stopped. Habit. Training. Control.

Kael sat down under the shade of a lonely palm tree.

The group’s fracture continued dropping.

Everyone was feeling safe.

Which was good, feeling safe for now means less chances of the group breaking apart. With water available and food for starving bellies, no one should think of starting a massive killing spree.

Kael knew better than to trust "should." But he also knew people were less likely to do something stupid when their stomach wasn’t screaming, and their tongue wasn’t sticking to their teeth.

The night was falling, and the group began feeling the exhaustion creeping in, but this was the good kind of exhaustion. Not one you had to suffer under sun, starvation, and dehydration.

The air cooled into something tolerable. The oasis water reflected a thin band of moonlight. Insects buzzed around the edges, cautious, like even they didn’t want to be eaten by whatever lived here.

Soon, Christy approached Kael, with several leaf petioles wrapped together to make a makeshift walking cane.

She placed it next to the pine tree Kael was leaning on and sat next to him.

"Sup," Kael said.

It came out casual, but his eyes stayed active, flicking to the group’s positions. Safe didn’t mean asleep. Safe meant "less likely to die in the next ten minutes."

"You’re really looking out for everyone."

Her tone was softer than earlier. The kind of softness that usually got punished in the tower.

"I just wanna survive."

"My fracture keeps dropping, means I feel safe." She said.

Kael glanced at her, then down at his own system readout out of habit. It was lower too. He didn’t celebrate it. He’d seen fracture swing like a pendulum. A single scream could send it back up.

"Good to hear," Kael noticed that his own fracture was now below the tens. Which was great.

The air began cooling, not much, but a bit of breeze began passing through the shrubs.

The palms rustled faintly. The shrubs made a soft scraping sound like bones shifting. Somewhere deeper in the oasis, water dripped steadily, slow and rhythmic.

Christy leaned closer into Kael, perhaps for some body heat, perhaps something else.

From where they sat, the shrubs hid them from everyone else.

"Anyone else," Christy said as she turned to face Kael, "They’d have abandoned us. Not provided much help, in your situation, even threatened, and extorted, and no one would say much. You’re strong, absurdly so, but you’re not mean."

Kael stared at her for a second, expression unreadable. Compliments were dangerous in the tower. They made people think you were either about to be manipulated... or about to be used.

"Thanks, I suppose."

"But you’re no fun. When someone is hitting on you, you should reciprocate."

Kael huffed a laugh, low and brief. His eyes flicked toward the group again, checking who was awake, who was pretending to sleep.

"Right here? Right now? In the desert? You got guts." Kael smiled.

"I got more than that," she straddled Kael’s lap. And her eyes widened.

Kael’s hands moved automatically to her lower back. Reciprocating.

"I guess we missed a snake."

Kael smiled, "Well, if you insist on catching the snake, I won’t mind."

Christy grinned and just as she planted a kiss on Kale’s lips.

A notification appeared in front of them.

[Leadership Transfer had occurred.]

[+5 Fracture]