Light Beyond the Dome IV

The rat king was dead. Its knot of bodies had burst apart under fire and steel, spilling plague mist that burned away until only ash remained. The skies above the ruins cleared for the first time in weeks, the stars faint but steady beyond the dome’s glow.

We staggered back to the barricade. The line held. The city still stood.

Ulric’s blade dripped black ichor, his shoulders steady as stone. Yamada leaned on one of his cleavers, grinning wide even with gashes across his arms. “You fight like a lunatic, Healer. Swinging those crowbars with no care for your own skin. Almost makes me cautious.”

He said it like a joke, but I caught the flicker in his eye. He had noticed. My body tore and rebuilt as though nothing had touched me. The others only saw recklessness. Yamada saw more and chose not to speak it aloud.

Ulric gave the smallest nod. “The line would have broken without him.”

Karin stepped forward, scowling. “You are still reckless. Idiot.”

I smirked. She knew the truth. She always did.

Kaguya’s quill scratched furiously against her parchment, her eyes gleaming as she tried to capture every detail before the mist swallowed the battlefield again.

The Executors had seen enough. Ulric sheathed his blade. Yamada hauled his cleavers onto his shoulders and barked a laugh. “I’ll report back. The council can chew on it.”

They both bid their farewells and vanished into the fog with their retinues, leaving the quarter quieter than it had been in days.

◇◇◇◇

The gates shut behind us with a groan of iron, sealing the mist outside. Soldiers on the wall slumped against the battlements, too exhausted even to cheer. The dome hummed steady, its lattice burning bright without strain.

We left ash on the stones as we crossed back into the quarter. I could feel the eyes of the guild on us from the balconies and bridges above. Plague doctors leaned over railings, masks glinting in the lamplight, staring down at the three who had walked into the fog and returned alive.

Yamada waved at them with one cleaver still dripping black ichor. “Don’t all thank me at once.”

A few scattered cheers broke out, though most only stared. Ulric ignored them entirely, his sword sheathed, his steps even as ever. I kept walking with the crowbars over my shoulders, pretending the weight of their stares didn’t dig into my spine.

The clinic smelled of broth and ash when we pushed the door open. Karin had stripped down to her undershirt, gauntlets tossed into the corner. Kaguya already had parchment spread across the table, notes scribbled so fast they bled through the page.

“You came back in one piece,” Karin said, eyeing the ichor across my coat. “Mostly.”

“Mostly,” I admitted, dropping into a chair. My ribs had already rebuilt, but the memory of them breaking lingered.

Kaguya leaned forward, quill poised. “Tell me everything. Every cut, every burn, every moment you thought you would not rise.”

Yamada barked a laugh, kicking off his boots by the door. “Rise? He never even slowed down. Fought like he had something to prove, and scared the plague worse than it scared us.”

Ulric said nothing, but his eyes lingered on me a moment longer than the others, unreadable behind that steady calm.

Karin folded her arms. “Idiot. You could have died out there.”

I smirked, meeting her eyes. She knew better, and so did I.

“Don’t smile at me like that,” she muttered, cheeks tight.

For once, silence settled without an argument.

◇◇◇◇

Yamada broke it first, hoisting his cleavers. “As much as I’d love to stay and eat you out of house and home, I’ve got reports to file before the Executors drag me back by the neck. Next time we fight, Healer, make sure you’re still this crazy.”

Ulric inclined his head, more formal. “The council will want a full account. Rest while you can. The city will not stay quiet for long.”

Their boots thudded against the street as they left, the door shutting softly behind them. The house was ours again.

Karin groaned and dropped into the chair across from me, tugging her hair back. “You really are exhausting, you know that?”

Kaguya was already scribbling again, muttering about plague sacs and swarm patterns, quill scratching like she was racing time itself.

I leaned back, letting the warmth of the room sink in. “Funny thing is, it was only a day out there. But it felt longer.”

Karin’s shoulders eased just a fraction. “Well, it was long enough. The house felt empty.”

Kaguya set her parchment down, her gaze flicking to the vacant chair at the table. “It always feels emptier without someone filling that seat.”

The words hung for a moment, quiet as a prayer neither of them would ever say.

I let myself smile faintly. “I was only gone for a day.”

“Too long,” Karin said flatly.

Kaguya nodded, scribbling again as if she could record the sentiment like data.

◇◇◇◇

News had already spread through the quarter by the time we returned. Reika had taken the first batch of soap bars we managed to carve from the dyehouse pots and was marching them door to door like rations. Families clutched them like charms, rubbing the white lumps in their hands as though they were relics. Children laughed at the bubbles, and for once the air smelled of lye instead of ash.

It would not stop the plague alone. But it bought time. And time meant survival.

◇◇◇◇

The lanterns outside dimmed as dusk crept in. Karin rummaged through the cabinets and came up with little more than a sack of rice, some wilted greens, and a jar of pickled fish.

“Reika’s coming to dinner,” she said, kicking the icebox shut with her heel. “All we’ve got is leftovers. Cold rice and scraps.”

“That’s perfect,” I said, perking up.

Karin blinked. “Perfect? It’s dried-out rice.”

“Exactly,” I said. “Leftover rice is the only way to do this right. Grab your gauntlets. I’ll need the biggest flame you can give me.”

She narrowed her eyes. “If this ends in another explosion—”

“It won’t. This time you’re helping.”

I scanned the shelves until I found the closest thing to a wok: a deep, blackened pan with a warped handle. Good enough. I set it on the counter and motioned for Karin.

“Hold steady. I need high heat, not a bonfire.”

She muttered under her breath but raised a gauntlet, heat flaring until the air rippled. The pan glowed faintly.

“Perfect,” I said, tossing the cold rice in with a splash of oil. The grains clattered and hissed, separating instead of clumping. “See how the icebox dried them out? That’s the secret. Too fresh and you get mush. But this is the foundation of one of the greatest dishes from my world. Fried rice. Quick, filling, and if you do it right, one of the most delicious things you’ll ever taste.”

Kaguya was scribbling furiously already, her voice bubbling. “Fried rice… leftover grain… transformative heat application…”

I cracked eggs straight into the pan and scrambled them into the rice, letting the grains coat in gold. “What I wouldn’t give for a splash of soy sauce right now. Dark, salty, with just enough sweetness to tie everything together. And a dash of MSG.”

Karin tilted her head. “What’s MSG?”

“Magic powder,” I said with a grin. “Well, not exactly. A natural compound that makes everything taste better. No bottle here, but mushrooms carry it naturally, so we’ll work with what we’ve got.”

The aroma filled the room, warm and savory, sharper than anything the clinic’s kitchen had ever seen. Even Karin’s scowl faltered as she leaned closer.

The door creaked open. Reika stepped inside, brushing dust from her coat. “I was told to expect rations,” she said stiffly, eyes darting to the pan. “Not… whatever this is.”

Her nose twitched. Her stomach betrayed her with a low growl that echoed in the silence.

Karin smirked. “Welcome, Captain. Sit down before you fall over.”

Reika flushed red, muttering, “It’s not… I wasn’t…” but she took a seat anyway.

I set the pan down in the middle of the table. “No rations tonight. Just fried rice.”

For a moment nobody moved. Then the spoons clattered, bowls filled, and the sound of chewing filled the kitchen. Kaguya hummed happily between scribbles. Karin ate fast, pretending she wasn’t savoring it. Even Reika caved, devouring bite after bite until her stiff posture finally eased.

“This world is so focused on survival that no one’s really explored food. Not properly. There’s more to living than not starving. Flavor matters too.”

Kaguya scribbled furiously, mumbling, “Flavor… morale booster… secondary survival vector…”

I nodded to myself. “I really need to invest in MSG. Bags of it. Bottles, maybe.”

Reika swallowed and frowned. “What is MSG?”

I grinned. “Make Shit Good.”

Reika sputtered into her bowl. Karin snorted. Kaguya nearly snapped her quill laughing.

The kitchen carried on in its usual rhythm of bickering, scribbling, and the clatter of spoons. Only this time, there was one more seat filled at the table.

◇◇◇◇

The laughter faded, and Reika’s tone grew sharp. “Joking aside, your situation is serious, Ken.”

I looked up from my bowl. “I know.”

“You don’t,” she said flatly. “The council hates how popular you’re becoming. Citizens whisper that you should have a seat among them. But to the guild you’re nobody. No record. No lineage. A stranger who appeared from nowhere and somehow turned the tide of a plague.”

Karin slammed her fist on the table. “He’s the reason people are alive. That should be enough.”

Reika’s gaze was steady. “It isn’t. Rumors have already started. Some claim you’re a spy sent by the plague itself. That you’re here to break the dome from within.”

The words dropped like lead across the table.

Karin’s jaw clenched. Kaguya didn’t speak. Her pen was still in her hand, but she hadn’t written a word since Reika started talking.

I exhaled slowly. “So I’m a savior and a traitor, depending on who you ask.”

Reika nodded. “That’s politics. Misinformation doesn’t care about truth.”

The kitchen fell quiet, broken only by the scrape of spoons.

◇◇◇◇

Much later, when the others had gone to bed, I found Kaguya alone at the reception desk, the lamp burning low beside her. She wasn’t writing. She just stared through the glass into the night.

“You’re awake,” I said.

She didn’t look at me. “Couldn’t sleep.”

I sat down beside her. “You’ve been quiet all evening. Want to talk?”

Her lips twitched faintly. “I suppose a guinea pig like you can listen to my sad backstory.”

I smirked. “Go ahead.”

Her fingers curled against the desk. “This clinic is all my sister and I have left. Ten years ago our father died defending the city.”

I stayed silent. She spoke faster, her words heavier.

“It was during a breach. Not like the ones today. The Sephis were different. Stronger. My father called it a corruption at the heart of the plague. A creature with a core of light wrapped in black tendrils.”

Her voice faltered, but she kept going. “It wasn’t even as big as the ones we fight now. The size of a man, no larger. But it tore through the barrier and the quarter like the city was paper. Civilians fell in moments. Buildings collapsed. It was plague given flesh.”

Her hands trembled. “Its tentacles reached for me. My father stepped in front. It impaled him, but he caught it with his hands. He shoved me back, pressed a fire vial to the creature’s core, and detonated it. When the smoke cleared, both of them were gone. Nothing left but ash.”

I set a hand near hers on the desk. “He saved you. And the city.”

Kaguya turned toward me at last, her eyes faintly wet in the lamp’s glow. “And left us this clinic. The only piece of him we could keep.”

I met her gaze. “Then we’ll keep it standing. No matter what comes.”

Her voice softened. “Karin and I wouldn’t be where we are without you. You’re the missing piece. Karin fights. I research. You fight and think. You take what we do and turn it into something that saves lives. That’s more than either of us could manage alone.”

She swallowed, her composure cracking just enough. “Thank you, Ken.”

The words lingered between us, raw and steady.

I didn’t answer right away. I let the silence hold them.

The lamp sputtered, shadows swaying across the walls.

It was different. I had come here with nothing but a wish to save lives, and now I wanted nothing more than to protect this home that had taken me in as well.

◇◇◇◇