The cheers and echoes around Akram suddenly died down, as if everyone had fallen silent at once.
Standing in front of him was Leyla, holding Kravash's head by the hair with one hand, her gaze locked onto Akram's.
Akram didn't answer. He simply couldn't. His throat was knotted tight, so tight he felt like he was suffocating. No sound would come out.
Leyla understood.
She had probably already understood long ago. Since no one had returned. Since the sand bandits had been shouting over and over that the Vulkans had been defeated. And yet, she had kept that fragile hope only a mother can hold onto, sincerely waiting for her son to come back home.
Akram's return had given that hope back to her… but his silence tore it away just as cruelly.
So she let go of Kravash's head. She ran down the entrance of Vulkania and collapsed into the sand, pathetically.
Then her gaze emptied, the hazel color of her eyes fading into a dull, lifeless white.
She stood up and walked toward Akram.
Akram clenched his teeth, ready to take the blows he believed he deserved more than anyone else.
But Leyla did nothing of the sort. She simply passed him, brushing past him, and headed toward the inside of the HQ.
Akram followed her with his eyes, lost, before following her physically.
Leyla entered and went to the main table, where several weapons and pieces of equipment belonging to the sand bandits had been left behind.
She picked up a weapon. A small knife, with a rusted blade and a cracked guard.
Akram understood her gesture. He understood her resentment, understood that she might want to kill him.
However, at no point was Leyla's intention to hurt Akram.
She pointed the knife toward herself and readied the strike.
Akram understood instantly and lunged at her as fast as he could.
He barely managed to grab her arms as she desperately tried to stab herself.
"Stop, Leyla! What the hell are you doing?! Damn it!" he shouted.
Leyla didn't answer. Her soul seemed to have left her body. Her heart hadn't survived the loss of Kra.
Akram struggled to hold her back. She was using almost inhuman strength, absolutely determined to mutilate herself in front of him.
"Argh, damn it… Leyla! Get a grip, please! Listen to me!" he begged, barely managing to restrain her.
The tip of the knife slowly reached the young woman's stomach, beginning its path into her abdomen.
With one last effort, Akram managed to divert the knife by using Leyla's own force, sending it flying several meters away.
He then pulled her into his arms.
"Leyla, please… forgive me… forgive me… I'm begging you… forgive me…" he pleaded, as tears began to run down his cheeks.
Leyla didn't respond. She didn't move. Her gaze remained empty.
Akram collapsed to his knees at Leyla's feet, continuing to beg for her forgiveness.
The other Vulkans had stopped celebrating. They entered the room silently and gathered around the two of them.
They didn't know why Akram was apologizing, but they understood one thing clearly: Kra was no longer alive. And so they came to comfort Leyla as best they could.
***
Two days later.
For two days, the Vulkans took the time to bury their dead, repair and rearm the defenses, and mourn in whatever way they could.
Leyla, however, didn't move. She had become an empty shell, unable to eat, wash herself, or act on her own.
During those two days, the remaining Vulkans thought about the future of the colony and what they would do next. A meeting was organized on the third day, presided over by Akram, who had been named interim leader.
The fourteen survivors—ten women and four men—were gathered inside the HQ.
Akram stood before them, with Elliot at his side. Leyla was also present, sitting quietly in a corner of the room.
Akram glanced at her out of the corner of his eye before speaking.
"Alright, I won't give a long speech. I'll get straight to the point."
The Vulkans listened in complete silence. He had earned their deep respect during the liberation of Vulkania and the defeat of Kravash.
"I never had the ambition to be anyone's leader."
"At least, I didn't until now."
"These past weeks, I failed in my duties. I didn't keep my promises, and I was responsible for the deaths of many of us."
"Maora, Kra, Barid… I'm responsible," he said, his throat tight.
"But I've understood that I can't wallow in my own misery. I owe everything to Vulkania. I owe everything to you."
"And because of that, I will fight for Vulkania until death. From today onward, I make myself its servant—its servant for life."
"I offer myself as the new leader of Vulkania, until death prevents me from fulfilling that role."
"And I solemnly promise that I will rebuild this colony, stone by stone, and turn it into the greatest power on Earth—light-years beyond anything that existed in my era, or in this one."
"So that we never again experience what we just lived through. I swear it. It will never happen again."
"Thank you."
Silence followed his speech.
Then smiles slowly appeared on the faces of the Vulkans."
"That was already planned, Akram," Elliot said, smiling at him.
Akram returned the smile, weakly. He felt that something was wrong.
"But…" a voice spoke from the crowd. "I won't stay."
"Me neither…"
"Me neither."
The voices continued. In total, out of the sixteen people present, eleven decided to leave the colony.
Akram was left speechless, but not surprised.
They had suffered too much here. They no longer had faith in this place—and not enough faith in Akram—to keep living where their worst nightmares had come true.
So only five Vulkans remained: Akram, Elliot, Leyla, the young woman Akram had saved—named Runa—and Baron, a scout.
Vulkania was almost gone.