Day 84 Post-Impact
The formal alliance signing took place in Harmony's main hall, transformed for the occasion into something resembling a proper diplomatic venue. Chen Wei had found tablecloths somewhere. Mythili had arranged the seating with a judge's eye for protocol. And the Singapore delegation, led by Wei Ming and his sister Serena, sat across from the Harmony leadership with the gravity the moment deserved.
"By the terms of this agreement," Mythili read, her courtroom voice carrying clearly, "the Singapore survivor community, represented by Wei Ming Tan, enters into full alliance with Harmony Safe Zone. Resources, personnel, and territory will be shared according to the attached schedules. Defense obligations are mutual and binding."
Wei Ming signed first, his hand steady despite the exhaustion still evident in his face. Sarnav signed second. And just like that, two hundred survivors became part of something larger.
The applause was genuine if subdued. People were still processing the battle, the losses, the narrow escape from annihilation. But there was hope in the room too. The kind that came from surviving the unsurvivable.
"Speech," someone called from the back. Others picked up the chant.
Sarnav stood, uncomfortable with the attention but recognizing the necessity. "Three months ago, I was dying under a collapsed building. The system saved me. Gave me power, purpose, a path forward. But power means nothing without people to protect. Purpose means nothing without others who share it."
He looked around the room, meeting eyes with survivors old and new. His wives, scattered through the crowd. Wei Ming and his people. The soldiers and civilians and awakened who had chosen to follow him.
"We won in Singapore because we fought together. Not as separate groups pursuing separate goals, but as one force with one purpose. That's what Harmony means. That's what we're building here. And as long as I draw breath, I will protect every single person in this room."
The applause this time was thunderous.
Afterward, the hall dissolved into celebration. Nothing elaborate, just people finding reasons to smile after days of tension and fear. Food appeared from somewhere. Someone produced a guitar. Life, asserting itself in the aftermath of death.
Sarnav extracted himself from the crowd, needing air, needing space to think. He found a quiet balcony overlooking the compound and let the evening breeze cool his face.
"Hiding from your own party?"
He turned to find Zara approaching, still in her military uniform though the formality had softened around the edges. Her hijab framed a face that had lost some of its sternness, replaced by something more uncertain.
"Not hiding. Recharging."
"Ah." She joined him at the railing, careful to maintain a professional distance. "The burden of leadership. I understand."
"Do you?"
"I commanded a special forces unit for six years. Every mission, every operation, the weight of their lives on my shoulders." She stared out at the compound. "It never gets easier. You just get better at carrying it."
They stood in comfortable silence for a moment. The sounds of celebration drifted up from below. Somewhere, Minji was teaching Wei Ming's people a Korean drinking game, her laughter bright and infectious.
"You kissed me last night," Zara said finally.
"You kissed me back."
"I did." She turned to face him, and the uncertainty in her expression had crystallized into something more determined. "I've been thinking about it all day. About what it means. What happens next."
"What do you want to happen next?"
"That's the problem." A ghost of a smile crossed her face. "I've spent my entire adult life knowing exactly what I wanted. Career. Duty. Service. Everything was clear, everything was planned. And then you happened."
"I happened?"
"You happened." She moved closer, close enough that he could see the flecks of gold in her dark eyes. "I watched you lead. Fight. Protect. I saw how your wives look at you, how they orbit around you like you're their center of gravity. I told myself it was just admiration. Professional respect. And then the Sovereign was about to kill you, and I discovered I was lying."
"The shield."
"The shield." She nodded. "I've never manifested anything like that. Didn't know I could. But in that moment, the thought of you dying was so unbearable that something inside me broke open. And power I didn't know I had came flooding out."
Sarnav reached out, taking her hand. She tensed but didn't pull away.
"That's not just admiration," he said quietly. "That's not professional respect."
"No. It's not." Her fingers tightened around his. "I'm thirty-two years old, Sarnav. I've never been in love. Never had time for it, never found anyone who made me want to make time. And now I'm standing here, holding hands with a man ten years younger than me, a man with eight wives, telling him that I think I might be falling for him. It's absurd."
"Is it?"
"Isn't it?" But there was no real argument in her voice. Just the last vestiges of resistance crumbling.
"Come with me," he said.
"Where?"
"Somewhere private. We need to talk properly, and this balcony isn't it."
She hesitated only a moment before nodding.
He led her through the compound, away from the celebration, to a small garden that Nisha had been cultivating. Flowers bloomed in defiance of the apocalypse, their colors vivid in the fading light. A bench sat beneath a trellis heavy with climbing roses.
"This is beautiful," Zara said softly.
"Nisha's work. She has a gift for making things grow."
They sat on the bench, close enough that their shoulders almost touched. The celebration was distant now, just a murmur of sound. Here, there was only the two of them and the weight of everything unspoken.
"I need to explain how this works," Sarnav said. "The system, the network, the bonding. You deserve to understand what you'd be agreeing to."
"Serena explained some of it."
"Then you know it's not just marriage. It's a connection. Emotional, spiritual, sometimes physical awareness of each other. You'd feel my other wives. They'd feel you. There's no privacy in the traditional sense."
"And you'd feel me."
"Yes."
She considered this, her expression thoughtful rather than troubled. "In the military, we operated as units. The best teams developed an almost psychic awareness of each other. Knowing where your squadmates were, what they were feeling, anticipating their actions. It made us more effective."
"This is more intense than that."
"I assumed it would be." She met his eyes. "I'm not afraid of connection, Sarnav. I'm afraid of losing myself in it. Of becoming just another wife in a collection instead of a person."
"You wouldn't be."
"Easy to say."
"Ask them." He gestured vaguely toward the celebration. "Ask Ishani if she's lost herself. Ask Jade. Ask any of them. They're more themselves now than they were before, not less. The network doesn't diminish. It amplifies."
"And the other aspect?" Her voice dropped, something vulnerable entering it. "The physical aspect?"
"What about it?"
"I'm..." She stopped, started again. "I've never been with anyone. Before. Career military, constant deployments, no time for relationships. And then the apocalypse, and survival took precedence over everything else. So I'm... inexperienced."
The admission cost her. He could see it in the way her jaw tightened, the way she forced herself to maintain eye contact despite the urge to look away.
"That doesn't matter to me."
"It matters to me." She pulled her hand from his, stood, paced a few steps away. "I've commanded men in combat. Led operations that determined life and death. I've never felt inadequate in my life. But this... I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know how to be what you need."
Sarnav rose, moved to stand behind her. Not touching, but close enough that she could feel his presence.
"You saved my life," he said softly. "You threw yourself between me and an S-rank enemy without knowing if you'd survive. You manifested power you didn't know you had because losing me wasn't acceptable. And you think you don't know how to be what I need?"
"That's different."
"How?"
"Combat I understand. Sacrifice I understand. But this..." She turned to face him, and there were tears in her eyes. Zara Hassan, who had faced monsters without flinching, crying over the prospect of intimacy. "I don't know how to let go. How to stop being in control. How to trust someone else to catch me if I fall."
"You don't have to know." He reached up, gently brushing a tear from her cheek. "You just have to be willing to try."
"And if I can't? If I freeze up, or panic, or..."
"Then we stop. We wait. We try again when you're ready." His thumb traced the line of her jaw. "There's no deadline, Zara. No pressure. This happens at your pace, on your terms."
"That's not..." She swallowed hard. "That's not how I want it."
"What do you want?"
The question hung between them. She stared at him for a long moment, conflict warring across her face. And then something shifted. A decision made. A wall finally falling.
"I want you to make me stop thinking," she whispered. "I want to turn off the part of my brain that's always planning, always analyzing, always in control. I want to feel instead of think. Just once. Just to know what it's like."
"I can do that."
"Not tonight." She held up a hand when he moved closer. "I need... I need to prepare. Talk to your other wives. Make sure they accept me. Do this properly."
"They already accept you."
"I need to hear it from them." She managed a watery smile. "Military protocol. Always confirm intel from multiple sources."
He laughed despite himself. "Okay. Tomorrow, then. You talk to whoever you need to talk to. And tomorrow night..."
"Tomorrow night," she agreed. "I'll come to you."
She kissed him then, brief but intense. A promise of things to come. And then she was walking away, soldier's bearing reasserting itself with every step.
Sarnav watched her go, feeling the anticipation building in his chest. Through the network, his wives' awareness brushed against his. Curiosity. Acceptance. And from Ishani, a grudging acknowledgment that the captain had earned her place.
She saved you, Ishani sent. That counts for something.
It counts for everything.
Don't let her hurt you.
She won't.
A pause. Then, softer: I know. I just had to say it.
He smiled and headed back toward the celebration. Tomorrow would bring complications, conversations, negotiations of the heart. But tonight, there was victory to celebrate and a future to look forward to.
Nine wives. One more step on a journey that was only beginning.
[DAY 84]
[WIFE COUNT: 8/32]
[ESSENCE: 876,100 / 1,000,000]
[SINGAPORE ALLIANCE: FORMALIZED]
[ZARA HASSAN: TOMORROW NIGHT]
[NEXT: DEVOTION]