The apartment was no longer the quiet, clean sanctuary Jack had spent all day creating. By midnight, it had turned into a den of heavy breathing, rhythmic thumping, and muffled moaning.
Jack lay on the living room sofa, staring at the ceiling and pressing his palms over his ears. In his father's old room—the one he had just scrubbed the floors of—Kenlil was busy with a young elven woman. In Jack's own room, Tavros had somehow managed to squeeze in with three beastfolk women. The noises were loud enough to vibrate the thin walls.
"These fucking bastards," Jack muttered into the dark. "They get laid and don't even have the guts to take it to their own houses. Why does it have to be here?"
He realized sleep was an impossible dream. He sat up, grabbed his heavy coat, and slipped out the front door, desperate for air that didn't smell like cheap perfume and sweat.
The night air was crisp and biting as he stepped onto the porch. He wasn't alone. A young woman was sitting on the concrete railing, her silhouette framed by the orange glow of a cigarette. She was a dark elf, her skin a deep, dusky violet under the moonlight, her silver hair tied back loosely.
Jack leaned against the incline of the railing a few feet away, staring up at the stars. For a moment, neither of them spoke.
"Couldn't sleep either, huh?" she asked. Her voice was smooth, with a slight rasp to it.
Jack glanced at her and gave a weary smile. "Yeah. My friends are using both my rooms. I was relegated to the sofa, but sleep would be an overstatement at this point."
The girl snickered, blowing a cloud of smoke into the night. "I had enough of it an hour ago. I tried throwing small pebbles at the window to get them to pipe down, but I think they were too busy to notice. So, I came out here to smoke myself into a stupor."
"I'm buzzed from the drinking," Jack admitted, "and I thought that would be enough to knock me out. But it just wasn't enough to drown out... that."
She chuckled softly, then reached into her pocket. "Here," she said, offering him a cigarette.
Jack walked over and took it, leaning down as she flicked a lighter for him. He sat on the concrete beside her, the tobacco hit grounding him.
"I'm Natalia," she said, offering a hand.
"Jack Sterling," he replied, shaking it. Her grip was firm. He looked at her curiously. "Did you just move in? I haven't seen you around here."
Natalia chuckled, looking out at the quiet street. "Am I really that much of a shut-in? My mom and I have been living in the unit next to yours for fifteen years."
Jack blinked, genuinely surprised. "Fifteen years? I've lived here my whole life. I've never seen you once."
"I'm always huddled up in my room," Natalia explained, a small smile playing on her lips. "I don't really socialize. I'm what they call nocturnal. Plus, I usually use a bit of cloak magic when I move through the halls just to avoid small talk."
Jack nodded, understanding. "That explains it. Cloak magic is a hell of a way to stay private. Why come out tonight, then? Why the sudden interest in the world?"
"I don't know, really," she said, her gaze drifting back to the stars. "I think I just felt like it. Tomorrow might be a different case, but tonight... the air felt like it was changing." She paused. "Where were you before you moved to Marmello?"
"I've always been here," Jack said. "What about you?"
"Friedenhein," she said.
Jack tilted his head, searching his memory of the Republic's maps. "Friedenhein? Is that a town in one of the states? I don't recognize the name."
"No," Natalia said quietly. "It's a small town in the Grendheich Empire."
Jack's eyes widened. He shifted his weight, his body tensing slightly as he stared at her.
Natalia didn't flinch; she just chuckled, as if she were used to that exact reaction. "Don't worry, Sterling. We're not spies. We're just immigrants who were tired of the blood. My mom and grandpa barely made it out alive."
Jack felt a pang of guilt for his sudden suspicion. "I didn't mean... I wasn't thinking you were a spy."
"People give my mom that look all the time," Natalia said, her voice turning somber. "She and Grandpa have the scars to prove where they came from. They don't talk about what happened back there, but I've seen the news. I know what the Empire does to my people. Slaved away in mines, worked to death in factories... or just lined up against a wall because they aren't human."
She looked at her hands. "I was lucky. I was born here, in the Republic. But I can still feel the sorrow in our house. I just wish they had found this country sooner so they didn't have to go through all that pain."
Jack looked at the ground, feeling the weight of her words. He then spotted a folded yellow armband sitting on the railing next to her—the same recruit band he had tucked in his pocket. He changed the subject, nodding toward it. "You're a recruit too?"
Natalia looked at the band and picked it up, running her thumb over the fabric. "Yeah. I signed up this afternoon."
"Nice to know I'll have a fellow airborne neighbor," Jack said.
"Yeah," Natalia replied. "If I can pay this country back for liberating my family, it's the least I can do. Besides... I want to make the Empire pay for what they did to my mother."
Jack took a long drag of his cigarette, the smoke curling around his head. "Don't worry. We're gonna make them pay a thousand times over. Who knows? Maybe you'll be the one to cut that fat Emperor's head off yourself."
Natalia snickered, a genuine spark of mischief in her eyes. "I'll personally see to it. I just hope they actually let women into the combat units."
"If you perform better than the guys in training, they won't have a choice," Jack said firmly. "The Republic needs soldiers, and they aren't in a position to be picky about who pulls the trigger."
Natalia smiled, looking at him with a newfound softness. "Thank you, Jack."
"For what?"
"Nothing, I guess," she said, looking back out at the horizon. "Maybe I just wanted someone to talk to who didn't look at me like a ghost."
Natalia looked at him, her eyes searching his for a long moment. There was a mutual understanding—two people about to be chewed up by the machinery of war, seeking a moment of humanity before the uniform took over.
"My mom is staying at her sister's place tonight to give me some space before I leave," Natalia said, her voice dropping an octave. She looked toward her door, then back at Jack. "My room is quiet. And the bed is much softer than a living room sofa."
Jack looked at her, seeing the invitation for what it was. It wasn't about love or a future; it was about the cold night air and the fact that in forty-eight hours, they wouldn't belong to themselves anymore.
"I think I'd prefer that to the sofa," Jack said smiling softly. Take that you bastards. You're not the only one. Jack said internally