Harem Apocalypse: Every Moan Levels Us Up!

The building sat in the middle of the capital, close enough to CGI headquarters that the walk wouldn’t be inconvenient. The woman drove us there in silence, showed us the floors with quick, efficient gestures, and left.

Mine was on the second floor. Sherry’s on the fourth. One apartment per floor, connected by stairs, no elevator, either a deliberate design choice or an oversight nobody had bothered to fix.

I stepped into my apartment and stopped just inside the door. A bedroom. A living room with two couches. A television mounted on the wall larger than anything I had seen in twenty years on the plain. A refrigerator humming quietly in the corner. I stood there for a long moment, boots planted on clean flooring, and just looked at all of it.

This is mine, I thought. A room with a lock. A refrigerator. Nobody trying to kill me.

The plain version of me found that funny. The inside version was still getting used to it.

I dropped my bag by the door, pressed it shut with a solid click, and went up the stairs.

Sherry’s door was open. Bright capital light poured straight in through bare windows. She was inside rearranging things that were already organized, moving a cushion half an inch, adjusting a lamp, the specific restless activity of someone who needed her hands busy while her mind worked.

I knocked once on the doorframe and stepped in.

"Hey." I dropped into a chair.

She sighed, a long exhale that carried the weight of the last few days, shoulders dropping as she stood at the kitchen sink.

"How’s the place?" I asked.

"Nice." She turned toward the counter. "Can you help me with the curtains?"

I stood. The curtains lay on the floor in neat piles of light fabric, already measured. She handed them to me without looking.

"I’ll need payment for this service," I said.

She smiled without turning around, a small curve at the corner of her mouth.

Then she turned and I caught it.

"You cut it again," I said.

She looked back over her shoulder. "Is it terrible?"

"No." The short brunette hair suited her perfectly, sharp at the jawline, softer on top, framing her face in a way that made her eyes stand out. "It’s not terrible at all."

I pulled a dining chair over, carried it to the window, stepped up, and started fixing the curtain rail. The metal was stubborn, requiring small adjustments, screws turning under my fingers while the fabric brushed against my arms.

When I stepped down, Sherry was already on the sofa, legs tucked under her, looking around the room with the quiet expression of someone deciding whether a place could become home.

I put the chair back and settled onto the other sofa.

The apartment was quiet. Capital quiet, different from the plain’s vast silence and different from Hogsby’s tense hush. Just the low hum of the refrigerator and the faint sounds of the city far below the windows.

Sherry’s gaze drifted to me. She didn’t speak. Neither did I. We simply sat there in the new space, the weight of everything we had carried back from the plain still settling between us.

"I’m hungry already," I said.

Sherry looked at me, one eyebrow lifting slightly. "You’re really settling in. That’s not something you’d expect from someone who grew up outside."

"Yeah," I said.

She got up in one smooth motion, bare feet padding across the floor to the refrigerator. The door opened with a soft hiss of cold air. She came back with two bottles, handed me one, then tucked herself back into the sofa, legs curling under her.

"Did you ever think about it?" she asked, twisting the cap off her bottle. "That people were actually living like this while you were out there?"

"No," I said, working the cap loose with my thumb. It gave a sharp metallic click. "There was no time to think. The infected didn’t allow it."

She laughed, pulling both feet fully onto the sofa, knees drawn up.

"I actually hated the walls when I came in," she said, watching me take the first sip. "Hated the people inside them. I came with Max with one purpose. Open the walls for everyone." She looked around the room, eyes tracing the clean lines of the walls and the large television. "But when you’re actually inside, you lose the starting point. And now I’m enjoying it." She shook her head slightly, a small, rueful smile pulling at her lips. "What a journey."

"Yeah," I said. "And we’re neighbors again."

She nodded. "Only no hole in the wall this time. Like at Hogsby."

I stopped drinking mid-sip.

"You knew about that hole?"

She laughed. Full, unguarded, head tilting back so the line of her throat caught the light.

We were both still laughing when the knock came, two sharp raps against the door.

Sherry uncurled from the sofa in a fluid twist, bare feet hitting the floor. She crossed the room. I heard a brief, low exchange at the door, then she came back in.

Max Donman was behind her.

The smile was already fixed on his face when he entered, but it weathered slightly the moment his eyes found me sitting on the sofa, the specific adjustment of a man who had expected one thing and found another.

"Didn’t tell you Max was coming," Sherry said lightly, moving toward the refrigerator again.

"Hey, bro," Max said, dropping into the chair she had vacated. His posture was relaxed, but his shoulders stayed a fraction too tight. 𝒻𝘳ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝒷𝘯ℴ𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝑐ℴ𝑚

"Hey," I said.

Sherry returned with a bottle of juice and handed it to him, then crossed straight to my sofa.

"Move a bit," she said.

I shifted. She settled in beside me, almost on my legs, thigh pressed warmly against mine, close enough that it was clearly a choice.

Max watched the whole thing, smile still in place, eyes doing their own quiet calculation.

"Nice place," he said, glancing around the room. "I came to help with fixing but it seems you’ve managed."

"A friend like you can always come," Sherry said. "Anytime, Max."

He wasn’t very lively. His eyes kept moving, between us, the sofa, the space between our bodies. "How was Hogsby?" he asked.

"Best thing that happened to me," Sherry said without hesitation. Then she turned to me. "Not so, Bram?"

"Yeah," I said, reading the tightening at the corner of Max’s jaw.

I stood up.

"You two should catch up," I said. "I’ll give you the room."

"Not necessary," Sherry said quickly.

"We’re fine," Max added, which was the least convincing thing either of them had said.

"We’ll link up later," I said, and walked out.

The door clicked shut behind me with a solid, final sound.

I stood in the hallway for a moment, the quiet of the building pressing in, the low hum of air systems, distant footsteps somewhere above. Then I headed down the stairs, boots soft on the steps, hand sliding along the cool metal railing.

I turned toward my door.

A person carrying a large box came around the corner at the same moment and walked directly into me. The collision was solid. The box tumbled, hitting the floor with a heavy thud. She went down with it, legs tangling, body twisting as she tried to catch herself.

I moved fast, grabbing the box and lifting it clear off her in one motion. The cardboard was warm from her hands, slightly dented at the corner.

Long black hair spilled across the floor like ink. Sunglasses sat askew on her face. Early twenties. Slim frame. The kind of effortless grace that even being knocked down couldn’t fully hide.

[LEWD LEVELING SYSTEM]

[Carrise Vale.]

[Primordial family. Mark required.]

[Build the bond first.]

The notification flashed cold and bright behind my eyes. I looked at her, really looked, and understood that the walls had just confirmed everything Eleanor had told me.

The world isn’t so large, Eleanor’s voice echoed in my mind. Everything finds its way.

"I’m so sorry," I said, voice low. I extended my hand.

She took it.