Girlfriend

John felt a headache coming. No matter how much he had mentally prepared for this, he was meant to miss something. Of course she would think that, why didn't he think of this?

What was he supposed to do, now? He didn't have much time to think before Stephanie could get suspicious so he just spurted the first thing that came to mind. And what was the thing a man should always do? Deny everything.

"No, of course not," he said, his voice laced with indignation. Stephanie narrowed her eyes into slits. Her patience was running thin.

As John contemplated the prospect of constructing a reasoned argument, his past interactions with the other sex came to mind. He had learned through experience that the gender divide extended to disputes, where men might engage in a battle of logic, women frequently attached more significance to the emotional aspect of an altercation. 

For them, it was less about a well-constructed argument and more about how the discourse made them feel. If they perceived a lack of appreciation, no amount of rationality would serve to salvage the situation. John was convinced that treating them with respect and regard was the surest path to a favourable resolution.

"You're not lying, are you?" Stephanie asked, her irritation giving way to a contemplative state.

"Stephanie, I care about you," he began, preparing for an appeal to her emotions. "I want to be with you. Do you think I'm lying?"

Stephanie's stern attitude had begun to waver. John's words had reached her. Perhaps she was in need of closeness, of human connection, but her shell had cracked.

Her eyes had softened and her jaw relaxed. John noticed the subtle changes in her body language and decided he had to strike while the iron was hot. Her shell had been cracked, it was now time for a more logical approach.

"Stephanie, I have your Skill already, I have no need to lie to you if that was my aim. No, my aim was you."

John sported a smile that could melt even the most hardened woman out there. He took one step forward and placed his hands on her frail shoulders. She offered no resistance and John took this as a sign. 

With gentle care, he rubbed her shoulder and tears began to well in the corner of Stephanie's eyes. As the emotional floodgates opened within her, he pulled her in for a heartfelt hug. 

"I... I'm sorry, John," Stephanie cried, her voice cracking.

"It's fine, Stephanie. All I care about is you," John reassured her, almost believing his own words. He tightened the hug and reassured her with sweet whispers, akin to the devil beguiling Eve, coaxing her to take a bite of that forbidden, but sweet fruit.

Stephanie took in his warmth and she cried. She cried not because of what had happened with John, but for everything. The world had almost met its end, she didn't know where her family was, she had cheated on her boyfriend and now she thought the man she cheated with was simply using her. It was proving to be too much for Stephanie.

The duo remained locked in that embrace for several minutes. The world stilled around them, both of them tuning out the sounds and focused on their shared connection. 

Physical connection was important for women and perhaps even more so for men. John felt a heavy weight was lifted as he relaxed and allowed his weary lids to fall shut. It was a matter of minutes until they reluctantly severed the tender embrace.

"Thank you. I needed that," Stephanie muttered. Her voice was coarse and her eyes puffy from the tears, but she wore a kind smile nonetheless.

"Me too," John replied, his thumb tracing gentle circles along her flushed cheek. But his smile vanished before he could get lost in the romanticism again. He had two very urgent matters: to find out more about Theodore's plans and to gain strength quickly.

"You look tired. Get some rest, we'll talk more tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay."

The new couple had parted ways and John roamed the shelter. Alien technology could be found in almost every corner of the shelter, and this was a recent development. Theodore had no reason to hide his connection to the aliens anymore, and this blatant use of their technology was proof of that.

John thought hard about how to approach his mission. How was he supposed to figure out Theodore's plans? The simplest way was to gain Theodore's trust and have him reveal all his plans, but John had a feeling that would not be possible. More than that, he was certain his amicable relationship with Theodore would not last.

He had to find out through other, quicker methods. Out of options, he thought he should not waste time. He could kill two birds with one stone if he ran to Maria's shelter. He could get stronger in the way and then dig more information out of her. 

Considering he had already snuck out of the shelter once, he was now confident he could do it again and he did. 

As his feet landed on the other side of the campus' decaying walls, he ran for cover before he could get spotted by any of Theodore's goons. 

His path led him westward, through the wasteland of shattered dreams. He kept on running, glancing at the skeletal frames of what were once imposing skyscrapers, one of mankind's solutions to the growing costs of properties, a self-inflicted illness that had plagued mankind.

These buildings had once borne witness to the entire spectrum of human emotions. Joy, sorrow and anger. They were all nothing but silent sentinels, scarred by time, tragedy and humanity's inferiority. 

John's swift figure streaked across the bleak landscape. A lone phantom ghosting through a devastated world. John had to wonder just how many people had died. He hadn't come across many people and the monsters were plenty, but not that many. Just where was everybody? He would soon find out...