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The main cabin was unusually quiet, filled only with the soft murmur of small conversations and the gentle creaking of the wooden structure as it shifted with the night air. Lantern light flickered against the walls, casting long, tired shadows across the room. Every survivor looked worn down, their bodies slumped wherever they had managed to find a seat. Lately, sleep has been a rare luxury for all of them.
Taph sat among them, tucked safely into the familiar warmth of Dusekkar’s arms. They were practically draped over him, their head resting against his chest while his arm circled them protectively. Taph had always been clingy—seeking comfort whenever they could—and by now, no one even commented on it anymore. It was simply part of who they were.
They nuzzled closer, pressing their face into the fabric of Dusekkar’s clothing as their eyelids fluttered. A quiet, tired sound escaped them.
Dusekkar noticed immediately.
Though exhaustion tugged at his own limbs, he refused to show it. He shifted carefully, adjusting his position so Taph could rest more comfortably. One hand moved to their back, rubbing slow, steady circles in a silent attempt to soothe them.
“Easy… I’ve got you,” he murmured, barely loud enough for anyone else to hear.
Taph blinked and lifted their head slightly, staring blankly at the wooden wall across the room. The patterns in the planks blurred together as their thoughts drifted.
I should tell them… they thought.
Their stomach twisted nervously.
Technically, they were pregnant. An egg was slowly growing inside them, still small and fragile, but undeniably there. It wasn’t painful yet, only strange—a quiet weight that they could almost forget about if they tried. Almost.
But the secret pressed heavily on their chest.
Dusekkar didn’t know.
That fact made everything worse.
Taph swallowed and fidgeted, their fingers gripping the edge of Dusekkar’s sleeve. They wondered how he would react. Shock? Fear? Anger? Happiness? They couldn’t imagine it clearly enough to prepare themselves.
Their gaze drifted downward for a moment, lingering on their own hands resting against their stomach.
Not yet… but soon, they thought.
They stayed there, lost in their head, barely aware of the conversations around them. Voices blended together into a dull hum as they zoned out, staring at the wall without really seeing it.
Time passed like that—slow and heavy—until a familiar voice cut through the fog of their thoughts.
“Hey, Taph… you good?”
Guest had leaned forward slightly, his expression soft and worried. He always had that gentle, fatherly look when someone seemed troubled, and now it was directed fully at them.
Taph startled and blinked a few times before nodding. They rubbed at their eyes with one hand and sat up a little straighter, though they still stayed close to Dusekkar’s side.
“👍. . ❓️” the chat bubble pop up above them.
But their hands betrayed them.
They tapped their fingers together, one after another, in a nervous rhythm. Their breathing grew shallow as their thoughts raced.
If not now, when? they asked themselves.
Before they could second-guess it, a small chat bubble flickered into existence above their head.
“👆🤰…”
The room froze.
Conversations stopped mid-sentence. A few survivors stared in confusion, while others slowly realized what the symbol meant. The bubble hovered there for a few seconds before vanishing into nothing.
Silence followed.
Then voices erupted all at once.
“What does that mean?”
“Are you serious?”
“Since when?”
“Is that even possible?”
Taph flinched at the sudden noise.
They quickly turned and buried their face against Dusekkar’s chest, overwhelmed and far too tired to explain anything right now. Their arms wrapped around him tightly, as if he were the only thing keeping them grounded.
Dusekkar, meanwhile, hadn’t said a word.
His eyes were wide, fixed on the space where the chat bubble had been moments ago. His mind struggled to process what he had just seen.
Pregnant…?
Slowly, instinct took over.
His arms tightened around Taph, pulling them closer without thinking. One hand rested protectively against their back, his grip firm but gentle, as if afraid they might disappear.
“Taph…” he whispered, voice low and unsteady. “Is that true?”
Taph didn’t answer. They just clung to him harder, their face hidden and their body trembling slightly with exhaustion and nerves.
Dusekkar swallowed and looked around at the others, who were still staring at them in shock and curiosity. He didn’t know what to say to them either.
All he knew was that everything had changed in a single moment.
The cabin felt smaller now—too quiet, too crowded, and too full of unanswered questions. Outside, the wind brushed against the walls, and inside, the group sat suspended in a strange mix of concern, surprise, and uncertainty.
For now, there were no explanations.
Only the sound of Taph’s breathing, uneven but steady, and Dusekkar’s arms wrapped tightly around them as he tried to understand what this meant for both of them—and for whatever fragile future waited ahead.